Page 63 of Cream & Sugar
“And if you were bad?”
“Then I’d sneak to the fridge after Mum went to bed and squirt it directly into my mouth.”
Shaun swallows. “Sounds unsanitary.”
I give him a sideways glance. “Only if the tip went in.”
Even in the low light, I can see Shaun blushing. Behind me, the fire crackles and spits, the dancing embers reflected in his eyes.
I take a sip of my mocha. The bitterness is a surprise, but as soon as it passes, I’m overwhelmed by the sweet flood of dark chocolate.
“Good?” Shaun asks, his voice soft and curious.
I lick my lips. “Very.”
Between the ruffles of his beard, a sad little smile tugs at Shaun’s lips. He opens his mouth like he’s going to speak, but bails out, closing it again and dropping his gaze to his own cup.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yeah.” Shaun wrestles with his words for a moment. “Freddie, can I tell you something?”
My heart clenches. “Of course.”
He picks at his sleeve, rubbing the material between his thumb and forefinger.
“Back at Andi’s, you asked what I had to be anxious about. I… I don’t really know if this is appropriate. And I don’t usually speak about this to people, because it’s not that easy for me to talk about. And I wouldnevernormally talk with a brand-new colleague about it, but, well, I guess you’ve realised that I like spending time with you. And you’re right; I wouldn’t normally take an employee out on a trip like this but you’re really fun to be around Freddie and I guess, for some reason, I trust you.”
He trails off, struggling to meet my eye. I can tell he's trying to speak but the words aren't coming.
“It’s okay,” I say, unsure where he’s going with this. “Take your time.”
Shaun takes a deep breath.
“Thanks. The thing is I don’t really have many close friends. I spent my twenties throwing myself into so many things—work, uni, rugby—and the older I got, the more I realised just how draining I found it all. It became harder to maintain relationships, people got married or just sort of drifted away. I didn’t really have anyone to check in with or tell me I was doing a good job. I felt, sort of,lonelyI guess.” Suddenly, he closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Sorry Freddie, you don’t want to hear this—”
“No, I do!” I scoot my chair forward. “You can trust me.”
Shaun takes a moment, steadily breathing in and out.
“Then I met Lara and it was different. For a bit. Her confidence was infectious. We started off fine, but more and more I felt like I was just, sort of,fakingit. She was always dragging me to theseparties, and I hated every minute of it. I’d always end up hiding in the bathroom or leaving early but I could never figure out why. It felt more and more like all I did around her was put on a mask. Don’t get me wrong, Ilovedspending time alone with her, but the longer this went on, the worse I felt and so last year I finally went to see my GP. I filled in some forms, got a referral and…”
Finally, he looks up and I’m shocked to see his eyes are full of tears.
In a trembling voice, he says, “I was diagnosed with autism." Shaun sniffs and takes a deep breath. "I had no idea. And though it made complete sense, it also changed everything.”
At his words, my whole agenda evaporates. I don’t know what to say. I feel a rush of sympathy for him and overwhelming humility that he trusts me enough to be so vulnerable. I want to hug him, hold him close and tell him what he should already know: that it’s nothing to be ashamed of. I lay my hand palm-up on the table, in case he needs it.
“Thank you for telling me, Shaun,” I say. “I think it’s awesome.”
Relief shines through him and the tears fall. He takes my hand and squeezes it tight and I let the moment run its course. At his touch, something blooms inside me, like a balloon, soft as down but tougher than steel.
After a moment, Shaun clears his throat and says: “Sorry, I'm being silly.”
“Whoa there!” I say, as though to a wild horse. “You have nothing to be sorry about. Never apologise for being who you are.” The words come naturally; it’s what Mum would’ve said to me if she was here. I rub my thumb gently along his. “Have you told many people?”
Shaun dabs his eyes with a napkin and shakes his head.
“A few old friends. My parents. Anna. Lara.” He lets out a shaky sigh. His free hand trembles violently and he hides it under thetable. “When I got my diagnosis, everything just made so much more sense. I finally had a reason why I struggle with things most people find easy. But also, it gave me permission to finally be who I really am. Lara didn’t take it so well. She thought I was using it as an excuse not to spend as much time with her.”
