Page 38 of After Felix
“What’s happening?” he says.
“I think it probably should be obvious, but I’m going home.”
“Wait. What… Why?”
“Because I should never have come in the first place. This wasn’t the place for me, and I don’t think you ever intended to bring me, anyway.”
“Why?” He staggers slightly. “Why not?”
“Because you’re in love with one of the grooms, and I don’t think you wanted to rub my face in it.” I shrug. “Not sure why, Max. I’m only a casual shag to you after all.”
He blanches, his face turning sheet-white. But to his credit, he doesn’t try to lie. “I’m sorry,” he says in a low voice.
“Why?” I ask, glad to hear how calm my voice is.
“Because I didn’t want to lead you on,” he says passionately. “You’re not a casual shag, Felix. I care, and I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Don’t be so bloody patronising,” I say, and my calmness stops him in his tracks. He hovers, breathing hard and watching me. “Iama casual shag. They don’t get much more casual, Max. You didn’t even have to buy me a drink, and I was yours. Don’t pretend to care about me now, because after I walk out of this room, you won’t even miss me. I haven’t made the slightest impact on your world, so don’t give me sweet words to let me down gently.”
“What do you mean when you walk away? Felix, please.”
I stand up. “I have to go.” There’s harshness in my voice now, because this is it. I won’t be with him again. I won’t lie in bed laughing at whatever random thought enters his head. I won’t hear his husky laugh again, smell his scent of sandalwood and feel the silkiness of his hair. Pain twists in my chest, like something is trying to gnaw its way out.
“No, please don’t go,” he explodes, staggering towards me and then swaying alarmingly as though he might fall.
I push him gently until he lies on the bed. He struggles up on his elbows, but the alcohol makes his movements heavy, and he lacks his usual grace. He falls back against the pillow. “Shit,” he mutters. “I’m so pissed. Felix, please don’t go.”
“I have to.” I raise his legs fully on the bed and hate myself for doing it.
“I never meant to hurt you,” he says, and there’s so much sadness in his voice that I feel tears in my eyes. “You were so valiant and sassy, and I wanted you the instant I saw you. I thought I could have you, and it wouldn’t mean anything to you. I thought you were hard, but you’re not, are you, Felix? You’re soft and wonderful, and I’ve hurt you, and Inevermeant to.” His voice is so earnest and melancholy. “If I could have loved anyone else, Felix, I would have chosen you.”
“Andnowyou’re being cruel,” I say steadily, pulling back. “You need to stop talking, Max, and go to sleep.”
“I don’t want you to go,” he repeats stubbornly.
“I think it’s blatantly obvious that neither of us is getting what we want tonight.”
“I don’t want to love him,” he slurs, and I want him to stop talking right now. “It’s just always been him, and I can’t do anything about it. I would never do anything to spoil his life.”
“Shame you didn’t have the same consideration for me,” I say sharply and then shake my head. “Ignore that. It was a shitty thing to say.”
“Love is fucking awful,” he says slowly.
“I know. Believe me, I know.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” I say. “And I sincerely mean that. It’snothingand will never be anything.”
His eyes start to close, and I pull the covers up over him. “Goodbye, Max,” I say steadily. “I hope you have a good life. Maybe stop drinking so much. It’s not doing you any favours.”
“I don’t want you to go,” he says. “I need to talk to you when I’m sober. I need to explain.” He grabs my hand. “Please don’t leave me. Promise you won’t leave me.”
His eyes are flickering shut. He’s on the verge of passing out, and I stare down at him, committing his face to my memory. The wavy dark hair, the high cheekbones and the full lips. As his breathing levels and he starts to snore softly, I lean down and press a kiss into his hair, inhaling the scent of sandalwood greedily for the last time.
“No,” I say softly. I grab my suitcase and leave the room.
I don’t look back, and on the long and costly journey back home, Isteadily pack away all the love I felt for him that was so tender and new, and lock that shit down tightly. And by the time I reach London, I’m resolved to hate him for making me so vulnerable.
