Page 63 of Tribute Act

Mack and I walked back to the flat, side by side, both of us quiet. It was a cold night, and we both had our hands stuffed in our pockets, shoulders hunched. My breath plumed white on the freezing air, and the cobbles under our feet were a little slippy with incipient frost.

I debated whether to say something about the evening, or just let it lie. In the end, I figured an observation couldn’t hurt.

“That was generous of you,” I said quietly. “Singing Derek’s song, and saying those nice things about it. I could tell it meant a lot to him.”

Mack glanced at me. His expression was uncertain. “Do you think?” he said. “I’m not good at stuff like that. Been too long on my own, probably. I’m rubbish at telling people how I feel.”

I smiled at him, probably a sad sort of smile if how I felt was anything to go by. “You’re not the only one. It’s not easy to open your heart.”

Mack stopped walking.

“Nathan,” he said hoarsely. “About what you said. Last week—”

Oh fuck, no. Not now.

“It’s fine, Mack,” I said quickly. “I shouldn’t have said—”

“No, listen, I—”

I turned to him. “Please don’t.”

“But— Jesus, Nathan, please listen, I’m so sorry that I hurt you.”

Humiliation tore at me. “It’s fine, honestly. Can we not do this?”

“But what if—what if I’ve changed my mind? Maybe it’s time I gave something like this—us—a try.”

What. The. Fuck?

I stared at him, unable to parse what he was saying to me. What was he saying? That he was prepared to give me some kind of trial run? Test drive a relationship with me like I was a solid but not very exciting Ford Mondeo?

The surge of anger that overtook me at that thought surprised me.

I was fed up being everyone’s rock—dependable old Nathan.

I was fed up coming at the end of every queue.

I was fed up being taken for granted.

I felt so hurt that I couldn’t even speak. I shook my head.

Mack looked suddenly worried. He stepped toward me, reaching out a hand to me. “Nathan? Did I say something wrong?”

“I think I better take a walk,” I said, whirling round and setting off.

“Wait,” Mack said, hurrying after me. “I’ll come with you.”

I paused my step, glanced over my shoulder. “I need to be alone right now.”

He froze, dark gaze wounded.

“Okay,” he breathed. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” I said shortly. And in that moment, I meant it.

I stalked down to the seafront and made my way onto the beach.

Ignoring the biting wind, I sat on the cold sand, huddling into my jacket as I stared at the black waves, letting the soothing rush and whisper of their ebb and flow wash over me. When I’d left home for university, I’d missed that sound more than anything.