Page 54 of After Felix
“I’m not fucking eighty.”
He shrugs. “But you’re too old to adapt well to changing feelings. You never realised in all that time with Felix, but I saw it. I saw how soft you were with him. How fascinated you were by him. He was dancing along and drawing you with him but…” He hesitates.
I make a gesture. “You’ve come this far. Give me the truth.”
“The awful truth is that you fucked it up and you may not get another chance with Felix even if you want one,” he says quietly. He looks at me searchingly. “Do you want one? It might be too late to even try.”
Cold dread steals over me. It’s only now in this moment, after I acknowledged how much I love him, that I realise I might not be able to mend the trouble I caused.
“I do,” I say, and it’s a vow I’ve never made before.
With Ivo, I’d never seen the use of making such a promise, and now I realize it had made things safe for me. I could keep my heart protected, because I believed there was no chance for being happy. The irony is I could have been happy with Felix and the only person who broke that is me.
“Felix is very closed off to emotion,” Zeb says musingly. “Probably because of his upbringing. Like you, he never intended for any of this to happen. I think you’re a shag that got very complicated for him. He just realised the truth before you did.”
“That’s because he’s infinitely braver than me,” I murmur, my heart clenching at the thought of him on that boat. So valiant and sparkly despite being all alone. I look up at Zeb. “I need to see him to tell him…” I hesitate. “Do you think he still feels the same?”
He sighs. “The truth is, I don’t know, Max. He doesn’t confide in me at the moment. I’m too close to the whole situation. If anyone will know, it’ll be his cousin Misha or his friend Charlie. He tells them things. Maybe go and see them. I’ve got Charlie’s address because Jesse lives with him.”
He stumbles over Jesse’s name, and I narrow my eyes. “Ah, the mysterious Jesse. You make him sound very edible.”
I watch in disbelief as he flushes. “Well, he is,” he says quietly and then slaps the arms of the chair. “But that’s neither here nor there. I’m with Patrick, and Jesse is far too young for me.”
I let it go, planning to revisit it when he least expects it. “Okay,” I say peacefully, and he smiles with what looks like relief.
“Go and see Charlie and ask how Felix is and whether he still cares for you. From the way Felix talks about him, Charlie will tell you the truth, but kindly.” He pauses. “But you might have left it too late, Max. I don’t think Felix is the type of man who’s happy playing second fiddle to someone else,and he doesn’t forgive things easily. You’ve left it a long time to suddenly pop up and want him back.”
“Iwantedto see him,” I mutter. “Every day I picked up my phone to call him, but then I thought about what you said in Cornwall and that maybe he was better off without me, so I put the phone down again.”
Zeb bites his lip. “He’s been different this week. Almost brighter. Be careful this time with him. Listen to what he says, and if he doesn’t want you back, you must accept it. You’ve done enough damage.”
I did go to find Felix only to realise that Zeb was right. I was too late, and he was involved with someone. But I still tried. I went to his boat and waited for him. I told myself that this new man was just a fling, and if Felix saw me, those hazel eyes would light up with that shy pleasure that so belied his snarky persona. The look that he seemed to direct only at me.
I was determined to split him up from this man who didn’t deserve him, who wouldn’t appreciate what he’d got. I was that much of a bastard.
But then I saw that this unworthy stranger might be good for Felix. He looked well. Happy and healthy. Zeb’s words rang in my ears, and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t sweep into Felix’s life again and upset everything when he was moving forward. I had nothing to offer him. I was a jaded ex-journalist with more scars than I’d ever acknowledged who hid them behind bluster and booze. Why would someone as vital as Felix want me when this new man could obviously give him more?
The stilted conversation that followed bore no resemblance to any of the sparkling ones we’d had when we’d been together. Those had been lively and snarky, like drinking champagne when the bubbles burst cold on your skin. Instead, I stumbled through an apology, and he tried his best to look interested. It had killed me to see that look on his face, so I’d walked away and picked up a bottle of vodka at the corner shop and a man in a club later. I don’t think I was sober for months after that.
However, no matter how many men I buried myself in, I couldn’t replace Felix. And deep inside, I never gave up the tiny hope thatrested in my heart that I could get him back. Somehow and at some point, we would find a way back to each other because that much feeling and love can’t be wrong.
It’s why I hang around when anyone else would have been driven away—first, by his anger, and then by his disinterest and the knowledge that other men are with him. They get to fuck him and laugh with him, and all I have are the memories and the zing I still get from being near him in a group. It’s made more painful by the knowledge that I could have had all of Felix and more, if I’d only opened my eyes in time.
My phone rings and I try to shake off the horrible memories. I groan when I see the name on display. He has impeccable timing.
Clicking to connect, I say, “Zeb?”
“Max,” he says, concern deep in his voice. “Are you okay? Felix said he’d run you over.”
“Did you think he’d finally snapped?”
“I wouldn’t have put it past him, but then I really thought about it.”
“And you realised he’d be much more vicious in the way he ended me,” I say.
He gives a startled bark of laughter. He pauses and then says, “So, he told me he’s staying with you because you have a concussion. Are you okay? Do you want me to come down? I can stay with you and?—”
“No,” I interrupt. “No, Felix is going to stay with me.”
