Chapter Text
DECEMBER 20TH. OXFORD. ENGLAND.
Love, we are so often told, is the most important thing in our lives. All you need is love- that’s how the song goes, isn’t it? Love, everyone claims, actually is all around. Especially at fucking Christmas when you work in publishing. You’re trying to sell everyone love- make them want it- or make them think they have it. But most of the time they don’t.
Sometimes you stumble across real love, and it burns so brightly you wonder how you ever thought the tiny tea light in your hand was replicating it. That one-in-a-lifetime love, when two people are so entwined together that you simply could not imagine them as separate beings. Or a bond so strong, a love so deep, that no amount of time could ever erase the scar that person being gone leaves. There is true love out there; real love that must make your life give off that rosy-warm glow careful lighting and manipulative words try to replicate on an advert for the newest coffee machine. But, for the rest of us, we pretend that the love-substitute is the real deal. We drink our diet love and try to recreate the sugar rush we see others having. We pretend this, day in, and day out, until finally something earth-shattering hits you over the head and makes you realise the thing you had thought was love had never been- and now could never be. And your life shatters into a thousand sharp pieces as you stand there and watch.
When his world was broken apart in front of his eyes, Edwin Payne just stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to shout or blink or take his eyes off the scene in front of him. Somehow, the only thought that was going through his brain was the realisation that his twenty-year relationship was falling apart because Esther (boss from hell and scariest woman in the whole of England) had demanded he go and get her a new red pen so she could properly make corrections to his latest article before either of them was allowed to leave and join the Christmas party that was now in full-swing. Edwin had half-heartedly thought of asking her to get a new pen herself or offering her one of the multitude of black, blue and green pens that adorned her desk- but even as the thought was crossing his brain he was rising out of his chair and thinking of the two weeks he would have off work as soon as these corrections were done. One trip to the stationary cupboard and he would be done, what could be the harm?
It had taken him a good minute to process what he was seeing when he opened the door. As his eyes had adjusted to the dimmer light, the movement had caught his attention. Two figures, one upright and one bent over in the corner and oblivious to his presence. Their breathing ragged, a shuddering moan filling his ears. It was a noise he knew, and he wondered momentarily if he was going to throw up. Then his eyes started to relay information to his brain. Like, the fact that the figure who was standing up was still wearing the matching Christmas jumper that Edwin had brought them for this party. That the boxers he could see pooled around his knees were the ones Edwin had washed and ironed and folded on Sunday night. He noticed how tight Simon was griping onto the other man’s hips and the way the light made his bare arse look particularly pale. He noticed how he didn’t want to shout or cry or break anything. He noticed, suddenly, the complete lack of love he had been imagining was in his life.
He had to tear his eyes away from Simon’s exposed arse- feeling mesmerised by the unexpected sight of it here in this darkened cupboard. He wondered if it had looked so absurd when Simon had fucked him- and felt a wave of revulsion that it had been a thing he’d ever allowed, let alone enjoyed. With effort, he dragged his eyes up to the face of the man who was bent over- hands braced against the shelves as he took each thrust. It was, Edwin noticed with a huge wave of relief, a face he was barely familiar with. One of the interns- no one Edwin knew. One of their joint friends had not conspired against him, giggled with Simon about Edwin’s cluelessness. Instead, it was just some stupid boy, far too young to know or care about the lives he was uprooting- too foolish to see through whatever offer of power and status Simon had undoubtedly held in front of him, carrot like, to get him semi-naked and being used for his enjoyment.
“Simon.” Edwin spoke his name. He had expected to stumble, to cry, for it to lodge in his throat. But somehow, he spoke it as if he was about to ask what he wanted for dinner or his thoughts about the end of the film. It was the name, until a few moments ago, he had thought he would be saying for the rest of his life. The shiny new ring on his finger was testament to that. Every Christmas, every birthday, every Friday night take away and every Sunday morning run. He had thought Simon would always be by his side. Now, suddenly, he couldn’t imagine another moment together.
“Oh, fuck.” Simon turned his head slightly, letting out a groan as their eyes met. “Just. Let. Me. Finish.” He thrust into the boy on each word, his words slightly slurred. Edwin recoiled. What had he expected? Apologies? Tears? Saying it all meant nothing, blaming the booze and begging Edwin to forgive him? Instead, he got the words Simon so often spat at him when Edwin dared to speak over him, to have an opinion of his own: just let me finish. And now, here he was, chasing his own orgasm rather than the man he supposedly loved.
Tears came then, finally, as Edwin stumbled away backwards before turning to run. The tears weren’t for the man he left behind him- but for himself. For twenty years of thinking he was loved and now, suddenly, knowing he had never been. Never been loved and never loved someone- not really. Because if he had loved Simon surely there would be a pain in his chest. Would he not have thrown punches or broken things? He’d always suspected there had been others- too many late nights and lame excuses- but to have it confirmed should fill him with righteous anger. Instead, all he felt was a sadness at the confirmation that he had been right in thinking he was entirely unlovable.
“Hey, Edwin. Did you finally escape Esther’s clutches?” Edwin jumped at hearing his name and blinked rapidly at the speaker. Sophie, from three desks down. Nice-but-dim Sophie with her flashing earrings and her slight swaying from the glass of cheap prosecco in her hand. He didn’t know how to react to any of this. The conversation with Esther had been a year ago and Christmas, surely, was now happening on a different continent all together. Life couldn’t just be expected to go on when everything was now different.
Somehow, he’d run straight into the depths of the party which insisted on carrying on; despite all the evidence that the world should have, if not stopped spinning, at least paused to give Edwin a chance to work out what the fuck was going on. But instead, Mariah Carey was insisting he was all she wanted for Christmas over a gaggle of over-excited and probably highly inappropriate party chatter. The room was full of the glistening tinsel and the smell of vol-au-vents that had been left out for a few hours too long. Edwin wanted, with every fiber of his being, not to be here. If blinking out of existence right now was an option, he would take it without a second thought.
“I did, yes. Unfortunately, it has left me with a bugger of a headache though, so I’m going to make a swift exit.” Edwin forced a smile. He could still speak, still breathe, still smile. He was going to get through this.
“Oh, you poor lamb.” She said- not too sincerely, her eyes already seeking out someone else to gossip with. “Make a move quickly, before the speeches start. Is Simon going to be here for your big announcement?”
The announcement. Oh God. Now he had forgotten how to breathe. He tried to drag in lung fulls of air but it felt like there was a band tightening around his ribs. There was white blurring at sides of his vision and he wondered if this was the start of a panic attack. It had been years since he’d last had one- he’d been working so hard.
It was that thought alone that let him pause the swell of panic. The years of work, the hours after hours of self-reflection and analysis. The journaling and the fucking yoga he’d put in to make himself feel good. He wasn’t going to let fucking Simon push him all the way back into the depths of panic. He wouldn’t let it happen. 5. Flashing lights. Pink party dress. Silver shoes. Christmas jumper. Another, much worse, Christmas jumper. 4. Receipt in his pocket. Jumper on skin. Socks on ankle. Sweat on his brow. Glasses on his nose. 3. Oh, I wish it could be Christmas every day. Glass being put on a table. Squeaky shoe. 2. Tuna? Was it tuna? Oh god Tuna was the worst. Spilt beer. 1. Tea. Back in the room. Back in the moment. Keep it together. Get out of here.
“No, I don’t think Simon will make it either- I’ll tell Geoff now, before I go.” Edwin half-mumbled as he pushed his way forwards through the crowds. His boss was walking towards a make-shift stage with a microphone in his hand and Edwin just needed to reach him before he could start talking. But everyone in the room seemed determined to get in his way. The new gold band that had sat clumsily on his ring finger for the past week seemed to invite conversation from people who would usually avoid him at all costs. They touched his shoulder and muttered congratulations as if he had something to be proud of. An engagement that was over barely after it had started? A lifetime of being with someone who had settled for what you had out of convenience?
“Twenty years together, aye? Suppose it’s time I made this official.” That was what Simon had said as he’d sunk to one knee beside the table in their favourite restaurant on the night of their anniversary. When Edwin had re-told the story he’d made Simon seem witty, maybe even a tad bashful- not wanting to make a romantic statement in front of so many witnesses. But, really, maybe Simon was just being truthful. All he wanted was an official seal on their relationship. Half of everything Edwin owned in exchange for a ring that cost five hundred quid at most. And the possibility of pushing for that joint property Edwin had held out on for so long. He wasn’t a stupid man, Simon. He knew a good deal when he saw one.
Edwin swallowed, tried to clear his head as he continued to walk forwards. Geoff was on the mic now- God help them all. Whittering about how even though the office wasn’t technically closing over the holidays they were hoping to get by with a skeleton staff. Edwin stood at the side of the stage, waiting for him to finish so he could have a quiet word. He wouldn’t tell Geoff what had happened, just that they were going to wait until after the holidays to make any announcements. Then he could tell a few people the truth in a low-key manor, gossip would spread, and no one would dare ask him about it directly. Edwin bounced slightly on the balls of his feet, resisting the urge to bite his nails.
“And, here he is- the star of one of our announcements!” Geoff called, extending a hand to Edwin and beaming as he beckoned him up onto the small stage. “Edwin Payne, we have had official confirmation that wedding bells are going to be ringing in the new year.” Edwin heard a whisper of excitement pass through the room from anyone who didn’t already know. He closed his eyes and wished the ground would swallow him up. “So, come on up and tell us all about it- who popped the question?”
“No.” Edwin said, shaking his head vigorously.
“No?” Geoff laughed. “Well, I never thought I’d hear the day the Edwin Payne was rendered speechless. The thought of a big summer wedding keeping your brain too occupied to speak? Too busy planning your tiara?” He laughed again and Edwin thought how thoroughly unfunny the CEO really was.
“No. There isn’t going to be a wedding.” Edwin said in a quiet voice. The room seemed to fall silent at his words, and Edwin knew there was no going back. No quiet withdrawal. Going big then going bloody home.
“What?” Geoff gaped and Edwin stepped up on to the stage, feeling the boards creak beneath him. He lent over and took the microphone, happy to note his hands were steady despite it all.
“There isn’t going to be a wedding.” Edwin said in a calm voice into the microphone. He scanned the room, making sure he had everyone’s attention. He only intended to say this once. Everyone stared at him- still and silent. Then he saw Simon pushing open the door at the back of the hall, tucking his shirt back into his trousers as he entered. “There isn’t going to be a wedding because I’ve just walked in on Simon shagging the intern in the stationary cupboard and it’s made me realise that I never want to see him again, and that I haven’t been in love with him for a long time- if I ever was.” Edwin had never before experienced one of those hear a pin drop kind of silences, but right now he was sure he could hear a single hair fall from someone’s head. Edwin smiled. “Merry Christmas everyone, see you all in the new year.”
He handed the microphone back to Geoff and turned neatly on the spot before heading towards the exit. His heart was thumping uncomfortably hard, and he heard voices grow from whispers to near shouts. He was sure he could hear his name being called but he carried on until he pushed open the fire exit and was hit by a welcome blast of freezing December air. He closed his eyes for a second, taking deep breaths, when he felt a hand on his shoulder forcing him back around.
“What the fuck do you think you were doing?” Simon hissed, standing so close Edwin recoiled automatically. “I know those people. I work with them. How dare you-”
“I work with them as well. Including the one you were fucking in the cupboard five minutes ago. Not so concerned about you bloody reputation then, were you?”
“That was different. That was private, no one was ever going to know.” Simon spat and Edwin let out a huff of laughter. How many other times had he done this and got away with it?
“You disgust me.” Edwin took a few steps back.
“Oh come on.” Simon rolled his eyes. “It’s just sex- it’s not a big deal. Not that you’d-”
“Don’t you dare put this on me.” Edwin said darkly.
“I’m just saying that if you didn’t constantly have a headache or a deadline I might not-”
“You would. Of course you would have done. Because you never really wanted only me. I was never going to be enough for you. Never good enough, sociable enough, sexy enough. Not like- what was his name?”
“Tyler.”
“Tyler. Of course it was. And how was it with Tyler? Did you have fun? Does he do it for you?” Edwin poked. Because he wanted to know it all now- wanted to hear all the ways he wasn’t enough. All the things he could never be.
“He has a six-pack and calls me daddy, of course he does it for me.” Simon laughed as if this was all a game- as if Edwin was the punchline.
“Because you’re old enough to be his bloody father!” Edwin spat back. He turned and started to walk away, hating the tears that were stinging his eyes.
“Oh, come on, don’t be like that!” Simon called. “Where do you think you’re going?” There was a teasing quality to his tone, as if he still didn’t believe Edwin would ever truly walk away from him. He’d always thought he was better than Edwin, that Edwin should be grateful they were together. Apparently being caught cheating had done nothing to dispel that belief.
“I’m going home. Don’t you dare follow me.” Edwin called over his shoulder. Then he paused and turned around, looking into that smirking face for what he hoped would be the last time. “Oh, and if it wasn’t entirely clear- I am breaking up with you, you utter twat.”
Edwin walked. And he walked. Normally, he would catch an uber or get a lift from Simon to get from his house to work- so he didn’t really know how far it was. And now, although he could see his tumble-down cottage appearing at the end of the lane, he still couldn’t have given a figure on how long he had been walking. All he knew was that the tears had started, hot and fast, as soon as he’d been sure Simon wasn’t coming after him.
He hadn’t wanted him to come after him, would have told him to piss off if he had, but still- twenty years. Surely it was supposed to mean something. Surely one of them should be fighting for it. Instead, all he wanted to do was run away as fast as he could.
The lane down which he was walking was, undoubtedly, beautiful. Snow was falling gently onto the dusting already lying on the ground and the trees and bushes sparkled in the winter glow. The windows of his house were lit- exuding warmth and home. This should be an ideal Christmas scene. It should be impossible to feel this crushing emptiness in this serene setting. Sadness should be confined to damp, rainy days in the middle of grey concrete jungles. Not here. Not now.
Automatically, he unlocked the front door and shut it. Took his boots off and placed them on the rack by the door. Walked through the living room and absent-mindedly stroked Boots, his elderly black and white cat who yelped at being awoken from her armchair slumber. He should feel more at ease now he was here- now he was home. But all he felt was a gratitude that he had never given in to Simon’s constant pressure that they should sell both their houses and buy a property together in the city- close to the central office and potential clients. Edwin had always stood firm- liking his own space, never complaining about the commute or the occasional stay in a central Travelodge. Now he wondered if there had been part of him that had always known it wouldn’t last- that he would be wise to have something to call his own.
Before he knew where he was, Edwin was opening the cupboards in the kitchen as if he’d been programmed to do it. He looked at the packets that were neatly lined up there. A testimony to a life of trying to be happy. He wondered whether there were enough. What would happen if he emptied each one into his hand, then his mouth? Drank the wine he’d been saving for a special occasion and just-
“No.” Edwin said aloud. Slamming the cupboards shut. “Fuck’s sake. No.” He’d spent enough years trying to be happy with Simon- he wasn’t going to let it all go now. No.
Edwin turned quickly, trying to put distance between himself and that few seconds of madness. He strode over to his sofa and grabbed the laptop that sat carefully on the side table. Pulling it on to his lap, he powered it up and logged on to his work emails. Because that was what he did, apparently. Five days until Christmas with no family and now no boyfriend. No real friends- only ones that put up with him because he was Simon’s boyfriend. Had been. Now who was he? The guy who checked his emails alone at home with his cat. Fuck.
Edwin groaned, putting the palm of his hand to his head. What was he going to do? Suddenly, a faint ping pulled his attention to the corner of his laptop where a text box was flashing. He clicked on it, because what else was there to do? His brow furrowed as a website he vaguely remembered opened, a speech box in the middle. It was some home exchange website Simon had made him sign up for, years ago, when he’d been complaining about how much money they were wasting having two properties. Surely, though, no one actually used this thing any more in this age of air b&bs and cheap hotel chains?
>hello?
>
> I know this is weird but I was just wondering if your house was available this week at all?
Edwin looked at the message for a few minutes. He wondered if he was being scammed and then wondered if it really mattered? Twenty years of taking the safe choice- of arguments and antidepressants and telling himself this was happiness. Now he needed something, anything, that he would never have done before.
>Hello. Yes, the cottage can be available but only if you are able to do a home exchange.
He held his breath before carrying on typing
>We swap houses, cars, everything. How does that sound to you?
>That can be arranged. When can you travel?
>Tomorrow, potentially. Where are you located?
“Please be far away.” Edwin closed his eyes and sent his prayer out to anyone who was listening.
>USA. California. Does that work for you?
>Sounds amazing. I’m Edwin, by the way.
>hi. I’m Crystal. Very normal (I promise). 30s. Single. No kids. No pets. Film producer. Just need a change of scene.
>What about you?
>Similar. I’m 36. Neat freak. Non-smoker. Work in publishing. Just found out my boyfriend is a cheating scum bag who’s ruined my life.
>Also, I have a cat. She’s much better than the boyfriend ever was.
>lmao. I think we’re going to get on great.