Page 81 of Milo
I breathe in and look at Niall, worried that he’s going to thump Thomas, but instead he’s staring at me, his head cocked and his expression challenging. Then he jerks his head at Thomas as if prompting me. For a second I stare at him, feeling all the complicated emotions well up inside me for this wonderful man who I now see is nothing like Thomas. He’s brave and fierce butforme, not against me. He’s on my side but he will never take over. Instead, I suddenly know he will always stand by my side ready to fight anything but alongside me, not in front of me, because he really knows me.
And in a flash my fears of what could go wrong vanish like smoke in the wind because this is Niall. He would never hurt me like Thomas did because he isn’t Thomas. He’s a much better man, and I feel ashamed that it’s taken me this long to work it out. I’m filled with so much love towards this wonderful, irrepressible man that it makes my heart hurt. So much love that I can’t keep it in.
“I love you,” I breathe and Niall jerks.
“What?”
“I love you,” I say firmly. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to know it, to realise that you’re nothing like him. You’re so different and so bloody precious to me and I love you.”
He stares at me, something like jubilation flowing over his face that settles into blazing happiness. “I love you too,” he says clearly, ignoring Thomas’s huff of disgust. “I always have and I always will because you’re bold and beautiful.”
“Not always.”
He smiles. “Yes always. Just sometimes it was a bit hidden. It took some seeing.”
“But you did see it,” I say slowly, thinking of him as a young man encouraging me to talk and patiently listening. “You always have.”
“He must have had X-ray specs then,” Thomas huffs and rage fills me that he’s still here interrupting the best moment of my life when Niall Fawcett has finally told me that he loves me. I know it wasn’t declared on a mountaintop or in front of my friends like I’d dreamed of when I was fifteen but rather in a crowded gallery in front of someone I hate, but still. Niall Fawcett loves me and I love him and nothing is going to rain on my parade.
I turn to Thomas who, rather unwisely given their past history, is sneering at Niall. “But then you’re just what I expected he’d end up with. An ill-educated yokel with nothing between his ears.”
“You leave him out of it,” I say sharply, rage filling me. “Don’t you even look at him because you’re not fit to lick his fucking shoes.” Thomas inhales a shocked breath but I’m finally on a roll now. I suppose better late than never. “He’s wonderful. He’s funny and doesn’t think that being kind will lead people to assume that he’s got a small penis. News flash, Thomas, you have.” I look at the man hanging on his arm. “It’s the size of a chipolata but they’re more useful than what he’s got between his legs.” The man pouts and moves back and I glare at Thomas. “You’re a bully,” I say slowly. “A horrible bully who ruled my life for too long. And why?” I look him up and down. “I don’t know why I let it happen for so long. You’re hardly a catch. Your breath smells, you parrot other people’s ideas thinking they make you look clever, and your humour is cruel.”
Suddenly I’m sick of him. I’ve yearned for so long to say what I think, but now he’s hardly worth the time when I have a gorgeous man standing by my side with a smile playing on his full lips, ready to take me home.
I take in a bolstering breath. “I’m going,” I say. “I’m going home with Niall to a wonderful house in the woods and a sociopathic cat. And I’m going to live there for the rest of my life.We’re probably going to have children and definitely some dogs. I’m going to restore paintings and we’ll cook for each other. And I’m going to be so fucking happy because I’ve had the worst and now I have the best. Someone who’s clever and funny and who loves me regardless of the fact that I sometimes stutter and lack confidence. Someone who knows that real love takes teamwork. Not a self-obsessed little man whose looks are fading.” I look at his paintings and shake my head. “And your paintings are terribly boring. They’re so pedestrian that they’re practically passed out on the pavement.”
Thomas opens his mouth to say something but Niall steps forward suddenly. He’s a big man and the move is so elegant that the power in it takes us by surprise, and Thomas makes a funny squeaking noise and jumps back.
“I can’t decide what to do with you,” Niall says in a very conversational tone.
Thomas looks worried. “Is there a choice?”
Niall hums and smiles. It’s not a nice smile. “Lots of different choices. I can’t make my mind up on whether to punch you in the balls or push your head through the wood panelling. Or maybe kick you in the arse.” He sighs happily. “It’s like a tin of Quality Street, mate. So many lovely options.”
Thomas stares at him and something like fear runs through his face. I don’t blame him. Niall’s voice is lovely but there’s a wild aggression in it at the moment. Thomas steps back instead and the flinch in his face shows that he knows he’s conceded something and lost face. He looks at me spitefully.
“Enjoy your life, Milo. It sounds terribly boring.”
“No. Boring was you, Thomas. Niall is so far from that it’s actually laughable.”
Thomas opens his mouth but Niall shakes his head. “I’m bored of you,” he says coldly. “Let’s not do this again.” Thomas looks at him and Niall leans close. “Let’s noteverdo this again,”he says, and there’s a chilling quality in his voice. “Don’t contact him. Don’t ring or email or write. He’s gone from your life and I see you, Thomas. I know you’ve realized what you lost but it’s too late because he’s mine now, and I swear on my life I will fucking hurt you if you try to touch what’s mine. Do you understand me?”
“Can you hear him, Milo?” Thomas says. “Can you hear that he thinks you’re his property? Why would you put up with that?”
“Because he does it properly,” I say, tugging on Niall’s hand to get him moving. He’s seemingly stuck staring coldly at Thomas as if he’s contemplating dismemberment. “And I own him right back.” I look him up and down. “Have a nice life, Thomas. Or not.” I shrug. “I really don’t care either way.”
We push our way through the crowd and all the time we’re getting our coats and manoeuvring our way towards the door I can feel Niall behind me, some deep emotion making his hand tremble in mine.
Finally, we’re out and I inhale the cold sea air deeply, feeling it replace the hot staleness of the gallery.
I tug my coat on and pull him to the side of the gallery, following the path down the cobbled street until we’re standing in a quiet corner of the quay lit by the glow of light from a house nearby. All around us the air is filled with the sigh and creak of the boats along with the musical tinkle of the rigging. Water slops along the steps and the air is full of the scent of brine. A wind is blowing, catching the edges of my scarf and whipping my hair back, and rain speckles my face.
I turn to face him and he grabs me, pulling me into his arms. “Did you mean it?”
“What?”
“That you love me.”
