Page 25 of Too Good to Be True

Rowan

I return to Seth’s house after a hell of a day at the office, spent almost entirely alone. Paul had been in court all day. He rang me at lunchtime to tell me not to make any plans for tonight because I’d be at his mercy, but then he never turned up, which, to be honest, I don’t mind.

I hate celebrating my birthday. It’s something I try to avoid every year.

But my friend Paul won’t leave me alone.

It seems to mean more to him than it does to me.

So I let him. Usually it’s a night out, in a nightclub, or at most a short getaway just the two of us, but this year he was more cryptic than usual, which worried me a lot.

I close the door behind me, walk past the entrance and into the unusually dark and quiet living room. As I am about to turn on the light, someone else does it for me.

“Surprise!” They shout in unison, almost giving me a heart attack.

“What the hell…”

“Happy birthday!” Seth says loudly, coming towards me with a flower necklace in his hands. He puts it around my neck, then plants a kiss on my cheek. “I guess hats and blowers aren’t your style, so I chose a flower necklace, which, oh my! Even this looks good on you! How is that possible?”

I laugh, I can’t help it.

“What’s going on?”

“Oh, well, your friend Paul,” Seth points behind him, along with the others, under a banner that reads ‘Happy Birthday’ in large, colourful letters, there’s my friend. “He told me it’s your birthday today, so…” He shrugs. “We thought we’d throw a little party for you.”

“A party?”

“Within reason, of course.” He laughs, nervously. “It’ll just be a low-key family dinner. A kind of larger family. I hope this isn’t a problem,” he said, chewing on his lip.

I look at the people behind him. The children, Paul and Vanessa, Mr Yang and Ross, then I turn back to him.

At another time, in another place, with another person, I would have felt uncomfortable, surprised, even ambushed, but with him, in this house, with these people around…

I don’t know, everything takes on a new meaning.

A meaning I had never thought of, but which is becoming more and more clear in my eyes every day.

“Not at all.”

“Oh, good,” Seth smiles, now calm. “Just get comfortable and relax. Dinner will be ready soon.”

“Did you cook?”

“Don’t say it in that tone,” Seth pouts.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything… I’m sorry. I’m sure whatever you made is perfect.”

“I made stew,” he says, his voice dropping as embarrassment takes hold of him.

“I consulted a thousand different recipes and asked the butcher who sold me the meat for help, I even spoke to the chef at the pub where you usually get it. It was Paul who gave me the name. I hope, with all my heart, that it’s at least acceptable. ”

I can’t speak. The emotion catches me off guard, closing my throat.

I should feel violated in my memories and confessions, but strangely, I don’t.

“I’d better go, or I’ll burn it like everything else, and I really don’t want that to happen tonight.” He plants another kiss on my cheek, his fingers barely squeezing my arm as he leans towards me. “Enjoy your party, Mr Kennedy.”

Seth walks away, leaving me in the deafening confusion of my mind. His words collide with the ones I have been holding back, the sweetness of his eyes breaking through the memories of my past.

I didn’t expect this.

I didn’t expect him.

And I didn’t expect to start wishing that this was real.

And mine .

Completely and unconditionally mine.

AFTER GREETINGS, hugs and pats on the back, Paul approaches me with a colourful drink that he tells me Seth has prepared. He even has a small umbrella.

“He’s trying hard tonight,” Paul alludes to the drink. We know that Seth is not much of a cocktail maker. “I've already had one, don’t worry,” he winks at me.

I can barely smile, still reeling from all this.

“I hope you’re not mad at me for telling Seth about your birthday.”

I deny slowly. At another time, I would have punched him in the face, but tonight I am so overcome with emotion that all I can do is hug him.

“Oh, okay. I wasn’t expecting that,” Paul says, my arms around his neck. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I know you’re human somewhere too, and that you have real feelings for people. For me, of course, but also for someone else.”

I break away from him and turn my attention to the kids who are setting the table with Ross. They had to add another small table next to the kitchen table.

“He’s doing a really good job with them,” Paul comments. “It’s not easy raising three kids who have recently lost their parents. Still, he makes it sound so…”

“Natural,” I say.

“Exactly. It must be a gift.”

I nod. My head feels light as if I have been drinking, and yet, I have not yet touched a sip of alcohol.

It’s Seth who has this effect on me. His closeness. His smiles and laughter. And his kindness. His chaos. And the way he welcomed me into his life without even blinking.

Seth turns towards us as if he can hear my thoughts about him. He smiles at me, in his slightly shy, slightly oh-so-sensual way, and I feel that I am one step away from flushing fiction, the past and everything that holds me in suspense, down the toilet to make room for him alone.

“ARE YOU OK IN THERE?” Seth’s voice tells me from outside.

I locked myself in the bathroom. I could not contain my emotions.

“I’ll be out in a minute.”

“I assure you that my stew is not that bad.”

I laugh and wipe my eyes, then get up and open the door.

“Why do I feel like I did something wrong?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… It’s not you, I swear. It’s just that I’m not ready.”

“For what?”

For you, for sure. And for what you make me feel. And for what I wish with all my being to feel and make you feel now.

“I haven’t celebrated my birthday in years.”

Seth slips inside, then closes the door behind him.

We are alone. Our breathing keeps us company, the chatter from the kitchen in the background. His eyes search mine for confirmation that he has done nothing wrong. Mine look to him for confirmation that what I am feeling right now is not wrong.

“It was a surprise.”

“Well, that was the idea. I hope it wasn’t unwelcome.”

“No, not at all. Please don’t think you’ve done anything wrong, because you haven’t.”

“I wouldn’t want to exaggerate, because you know I tend to do that.”

I laugh and shake my head.

“Would you like to come outside with me? The others are setting the table, the stew is ready and there’s cake. The kids made it for you and…”

I take his hand and pull him closer, my fingers gently caressing his face as I press my lips against his.

Before he can remember who I am or what I’m doing in this house with him, I kiss him.

Just enough time to feel the softness of his mouth on mine, to taste his breath, and to wish this moment would last forever before I finally let him go.

“Oh…” Seth says, brushing his lips with his fingers. A light blush appears on his cheeks. “This… Um…”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

Now it is his lips that press against mine, just long enough for him to forget who he is and what he is doing here, with me; to feel the desire on my lips and hold my breath before leaving me alone again.

His face is bright red and hot; I can feel it under my own fingers.

We look at each other for a few moments, our eyes locked, our breathing quickening.

Then someone knocks at the door, calling us back, breaking the spell of that shared moment, leaving us feeling lost together for just a while, somewhere in the world.

“We’re coming!” Seth says to Mason, his face turned towards the door.

He waits a few more seconds, then looks at me again. “I’m sorry.”

I shake my head with vigour. “I was the one who started it.”

“True, but… don’t apologise, will you?”

“Only if you don’t either.”

“Will you get out of there?” This time it is Emily’s voice that calls us back.

“We’d better…” Seth points to the door behind him.

I nod and reluctantly feel him slip out of my arms, aware that I still want him, and want him so badly, and that I have just complicated everything and with one damn kiss.

“THIS IS GOOD, Seth,” Vanessa says.

“Thank you, you are kind to say so,” Seth replies.

“That’s right, Uncle Seth. It’s really good,” Logan remarks.

I can’t speak, I can’t even swallow, and not because this stew isn’t good, but because with every spoonful a flood of memories invades me, threatening to jeopardise this moment, the days with them, and my whole life.

I would like not to remember. I wish I could just live this moment and experience it with the serenity it deserves. I wish I could wipe out the past in a breath. To forget who I was, the suffering, the loneliness. To forget that I was vulnerable. To forget I had a broken heart.

Seth smiles happily. “As you all know, or almost all of you,” he looks at Vanessa and Paul, sitting next to each other, “I’m not good at cooking.”

The kids giggle.

“In fact, I didn’t even try to make the cake. I wanted to get it at the bakery nearby, but the kids insisted, and so…”

“Mr Yang helped us,” Logan says.

“Thank you all. You shouldn’t have bothered.”

“We need a toast at this point,” Ross suggests. “A toast from the birthday boy.”

The last thing I want to do is talk, but it would seem rude to me now to refuse to do so. I pull back my chair and stand up, pick up my glass and clear my throat. All eyes are on me, but I look only at his, kind, sweet and truer than my own name.