Page 2 of The Mission

It is NOT okay.

Mark, at his best, was lovely, but at his worst, not in the least lovely.Lovelyhad still outweighednot in the least.Yes, I know it shouldn’t have.Good thing the only person around to point out his stupidity was himself—to himself. Though Conrad had occasional moments of panic wondering if others saw him as too passive and weak.

Because you are! Idiot.

It was Conrad’s birthday and Mark had arranged to meet him at a shop in Notting Hill. Conrad had thought they’d go there together at lunchtime—after all they worked for the same company, though their offices were on different floors—but apparently Mark was coming from somewhere else.

Conrad had arrived at the shop early and while he waited, he looked around wondering what it was that Mark was going to buy him, because why else would he want to meet here? Not a suit, obviously, but maybe those blue enamelled cufflinks that were calling—maybe yelling—Conrad’s name, or perhaps a tie. If Mark was going to let him choose, he’d go for the cufflinks. He couldn’t stop looking at them. They were so pretty. If he wasn’t careful, the shop assistants were going to think he was contemplating nicking them.

Mark strolled in—twenty minutes late—by which time Conrad was familiar with every item in the shop, and the two assistants had barely taken their eyes off him.

Mark beckoned him over to the suits. “This is the one…” He pulled out a charcoal grey jacket with a pink lining. “What do you think?”

Conrad caught a glimpse of the price and gulped. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be bought something that expensive.

“It’s…okay,” Conrad said.

“More than okay. I think I’d look great in this. What’s your opinion? You’re good with clothes.”

The compliment was lost as Conrad’s heart sank to somewhere below his knees. Probably under his feet so he could trample on it himself.Not for me. Nothing for me. Why did I even think it might be?

“Well?” Mark asked.

“It’s okay.” Conrad couldn’t bring himself to sound enthusiastic. He was now wondering if Mark had even remembered it was his birthday.

Mark sighed. “I don’t think this is working.”

Conrad allowed himself a moment of trying to think what that could refer to other than the obvious. Then he clenched his teeth. If he was being honest with himself, he knew Mark didn’t want him anymore. He’d seen the signs, the way Mark now turned his charm on for anyone but him, arranging things without asking him and just assuming Conrad would go along with his choice.I’m being ghosted. I feel like a ghost. And it’s my own fault. I have to change. Ihaveto.

What he hadn’t expected was that he’d get dumped on his thirtieth birthday. He turned for one last look at the present he wasn’t going to get.Goodbye, beautiful cufflinks.

He had a moment of hope when Mark spotted the direction of his gaze and asked to see them. The assistant took them out of the glass display case.

“Why isn’t it working?” Conrad asked.Oh God, I could make a list of reasons.Self-awareness was no excuse for weakness.I’m pathetic. Who would want me?His ribs clamped around his heart. Well, it felt like they did and it served him bloody right.

“It’s my birthday.” Conrad wanted the words back the moment they’d escaped. He’d also said them too loudly. The shop assistant perked up, thinking he’d get a sale but Conrad had lost hope of that. What he should have said was—You’re dumping me on my birthday, you bastard?

But he didn’t. He’d spent so much of his life—his childhood—being told to be quiet, to keep his opinions to himself, to know his place, that he felt trapped by the barriers he’d built up in his head. Maybe he ought to see a therapist. That was progress, thinking that. Wasn’t it?

He waited for Mark to at least say happy birthday, callous dickhead that he was, but he just shrugged and it was the shrug that nailed down the lid on what they had. Their relationship was dead and buried. Was that all he was worth? A shrug?I should have seen through him right from the start.Mark had to be admired, had to have everyone’s attention. His sense of self-importance was mind-boggling. Conrad had fed Mark’s ego and he had to stop it. Right now.

Yet when Mark actually bought the cufflinks, Conrad still felt a flare of hope.I’m a complete idiot.Was there a course he could sign up for that showed you how to grow a pair of balls? He needed to walk out now. Accept it. They were done.

As Conrad moved towards the door, proud of himself for finally walking out on him, somehow Mark stepped into his path and a display of wallets went tumbling.Oh shit, did I do that?A security alarm went off and Conrad groaned.Oh God.He didn’t think it was his fault but he bent to help pick up the fallen goods and so did Mark.

“What have I done wrong?” Conrad whispered.

“Things like this,” Mark hissed. “You’re fucking embarrassing.”

Conrad tensed. How did ‘adorably dorky’ end up as ‘fucking embarrassing’? In the end, it was Mark who stalked out of the shop as the sales people helped Conrad rescue the display.

“I’m so sorry,” Conrad found himself gulping.Do not cry!Though he could feel himself welling up, his throat thickening. He pressed his lips together and sank his teeth into his cheek.Stop being a baby.

His own thoughts were hurting him, memories of his parents flinging those words at him every time he got upset blocked his throat, filled his eyes.

These were not the sort of assistants who’d take pity on him, more like ones who’d look down their noses at him because he was obviously not worthy to lick the shoes of the god who’d just walked out. Why did everyone love Mark? Conrad just didn’t get it.

Yes, you do.

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