Chapter Fourteen Lonely This Christmas

chapter fourteen

Lonely This Christmas

Rick packed.

Folding another shirt, fabric creasing under the pressure of his trembling fingers, he sighed as he tucked it alongside the others in the small suitcase holding the parts of his life worth salvaging. There was a finality in each article of clothing he stuffed inside, a silent acknowledgement that this was it. He was leaving. As he should have done a year ago, when all the lurid nonsense started. He shouldn’t have expected it all to blow over. Die out. It was a hard bump down from the top of the success ladder, clawing back up it at his age caused more stress and strain than it was worth.

He stepped back, his bedroom feeling more cramped than it ever had. The walls were closing in and his breath came out in short huffs, the air tasting of dust and the metallic tang of fear.

Of defeat.

His insides swirled with nausea, with the lump in his throat the size of the baubles hanging on his Christmas tree Jayden had helped decorate. He wasn’t sure gulping it down would help the turmoil rising to the surface to make him vomit.

Jayden .

That was the worst of it.

Jayden’s face . When he’d heard the word ‘pervert’. When Georgia had brandished it like a weapon of mass destruction. Jayden’s once bright eyes and infectious smile diminished. Gone. As he would be.

He stuffed another jumper into his case and zipped it shut. This room, this flat, for the past week had felt like home again. It really had been the most wonderful time of year. With Jayden there to share it with him.

Not anymore.

One revolution around the sun, and Rick was right back where he started.

Alone.

He gathered Jayden’s belongings into a bin liner and put it by the door. He wasn’t sure if he would see Jayden again. Perhaps he could drop it by his Halls before jumping on the train back to Yorkshire? It felt so wrong. Cruel. To put everything that was Jayden into a bag the way he was, but he didn’t know what else to do. His head was a mess. A wretched mess. His thoughts were a chaotic heap of fairy lights thrown carelessly into a box. Untangling them was hopeless. It was better to abandon them to the scrap heap than try to coax one more season out of mangled, dulled, past their sell-by-date decorations.

He was about to grab his coat when an insistent knock thundered through the flat. Maybe it was Simeon asking for a condom again? Maybe he could give Jayden’s belongings to him. Kill two birds with one stone. Give Jayden his stuff back, along with a new potential man. The thought made him retch. So he lifted the suitcase from his bed, straightened his back, the weight of his years bearing down on him, and made his way to open the door.

“Hey,” Jayden said from the other side and that one word laced with worry had an edge to it. A steeliness denying his usual warmth.

“Hey,” Rick breathed out in dejection. Jayden’s presence was like a burst of colour against the drab backdrop of his existence. “How did you get in?” It shouldn’t have been his first question, and it wasn’t his last. But it was better to start somewhere that wasn’t the immediate, ‘ why are you here?’. Because he wasn’t sure he could handle the answer to that.

“I pressed the wrong number. Flat four thinks they have a pizza delivery.”

Rick snorted despite of himself.

“What’s going on, Rick?”

Rick raked a hand through his hair, then scurried back from the door to allow Jayden entrance. He didn’t need to answer. The bulging suitcase at his feet spoke volumes, along with the dust settling on his life.

“Your belongings are there,” he said instead, pointing at the bag. “I was going to…” Give them to Simeon? God, he really was a rotten scoundrel. A heartless wretch. A piece of crap not even worth scraping off a shoe. Better to throw the entire thing away.

Jayden stepped inside, glancing down at the bin liner, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Are you fucking joking?”

Rick flinched at the ferocity of Jayden’s curse and the look on his face had him reeling with shame. “It’s all there—”

“You chucked my stuff in a bin liner ?” Jayden untied the handles of the bag and checked inside.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t spare a case. I need them for—”

“What the actual fuck, Rick ? ” Jayden bowed his head, tempering his laboured breaths. “You knew. You fucking knew !”

Oh God, he had known. Jayden had told him how every time social services moved him onto a new foster home, or temporary accommodation, they always gave him a bin liner to pack his worldly possessions in.

Fuck .

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Too wrapped up in his own problems to even consider what that might do to Jayden, Rick was the ultimate selfish arsehole.

“Jayden, I’m sorry.” Rick’s apology sounded feeble, even to his own ears. “I didn’t think. I was too busy—”

“Running away?”

Rick held his gaze, chest rising and falling, hoping Jayden would see his plea for him to understand and not make this more difficult than it had to be. For them both.

“I thought you’d want nothing more to do with me after…what happened today.”

“What did happen today?” Jayden’s stance relaxed, but the intensity in his eyes burned brighter.

“You were there. You heard.”

“I heard what other people said. Why I’m here is because I want your version.”

Rick rubbed his forehead. He was in danger of crying. But he’d done that before and it hadn’t got him anywhere. He couldn’t bear for Jayden to think less of him. To believe the lies. He couldn’t care about anyone else.

But Jayden…

“It’s complicated.” Rick forced a mirthless chuckle, hoping it would lighten the mood, inject a sliver of humour into the grim reality.

It fell flat.

So Rick backed off into the living room, collapsing to sit on the armchair and burying his head in his hands.

Jayden followed, slow and cautious. Stood in front of him, his familiar scent enveloped Rick with a warmth he didn’t deserve. “What happened, Rick?”

“I had an affair.” Rick peeked at Jayden, testing the water. Jayden didn’t move. Didn’t give off any sign that the word itself was enough to repel him.

“With a married man?”

“Yes. Although, in my defence, I hadn’t known he was married. So technically, it wasn’t my affair, but his.” Rick fell back in the chair, unable to look Jayden in the eye, fingers drumming on the armrest and blood curdling at recalling the sordid time. Once beautiful, bright memories were now tainted by the truth. “Derek was a fellow actor. We worked together on a few plays. He was young. Idealistic. Talented. Rather stunning.”

Jayden lowered his gaze to the floor and chewed on the inside of his cheek. Maybe he was jealous? Or maybe it was because Rick had used those words to describe him. He was a creature of habit, after all. Captured by the beauty of unique talent. But whatever it was taking Jayden’s eyes off him made Rick want them back. To keep them on him. No matter the consequences.

“We became close while working together on A Midsummer Night’s Dream . He was playing Puck—his first big role. And I, Nick Bottom. We fell into a physical relationship quickly.” He peered up, biting his lip, realising everything sounded so familiar. It was catastrophic. “Most of those encounters were here.” He gestured to his flat. “He claimed he lived in a house share with other actors. I never questioned it. We all start off in those and he wanted to keep us quiet because he worried his housemates might think he was…sleeping his way to the top.”

Rick scoffed down the ironic laughter. “For two years, I believed we were in a relationship. I believed every word he said because I wanted to. Then last Christmas, as the fucking song would predict, I gave him not only my heart but a key to this place. Hung it on an expensive chain, put it in a jewellery box and wrapped it up. He was in a play just off West End. New production. I’d asked my company to play the understudy for Christmas Eve so I could watch him perform. Afterwards, I went backstage, into his dressing room to give him his present. Let’s just say things got a little frisky in there. Mid act, his door opened and in comes his wife. Georgia.”

“Oh, Rick …”

“I had no idea who she was, of course, but she had no qualms introducing herself as the mother of his twins. Derek, panicked, reeled off a string of lies about how I’d seduced him. Forced myself on him.”

“And she believed that?”

“He cried , for fuck’s sake. Like I said, talented. He had her fooled. The entire production staff fooled. They all believed him. That I, Rick Thornton, had used my position to coerce Derek into it.”

“Didn’t you tell them what happened? Say your side?”

“I was…blindsided. To be honest, I thought I’d stumbled on some after show prank, end-of-run wind up. I laughed. Actually laughed . I thought it absurd . Wasn’t until security ushered me out I realised what had happened. It was too late then. My silence, my laughter, my lack of defence thereof meant everyone believed Derek. It didn’t matter what I said. Because after then, I discovered his whole web of deceit. He had twins . Morgan and Madison. Three years old. An entire family. A house in the suburbs. He was leading a double life. And I…lost myself. Completely bereft. Locked myself at home, turned my phone off, ignored the press and refused to look online. I’d broken up a family .”

“No, that’s on him . He did that. Not you.”

“Maybe. But that’s not how the world saw it. Or, rather, my world. The theatre world. And he came to me a few days after. Begging me to forgive him and tried to explain. He loves his wife. His girls. He’s sorry that we got, and I quote, ‘out of hand’. He’d been in a bad place after the twins’ birth and gone off the rails.” Rick rolled his eyes. “Apparently, I was nothing more than a distraction from post-natal depression. A trauma response.”

“So why keep his lie?”

“I didn’t. Not really. I just chose not to say anything . He chose to keep his family. If I told the truth, that we’d been in a relationship, then I would be the one to break them apart. And I think you, of all people, know the tragedies that occur from a family breaking up.”

“Not all kids end up in care.”

“No, but how could I watch those girls lose their daddy?”

“So you lose your career ?”

“Honestly, I thought it would all blow over. I believed, eventually, people wouldn’t remember. The whole ‘yesterday’s news is today’s chip paper’ mentality. Marianne and I agreed the best course of action to maintain my innocence was to land another role. Keep going by keeping myself relevant. But whichever way you look at it, I don’t come out particularly well in the story. I’d been foolish. Na?ve at best. And no matter how many feelers Marianne put out to companies, a role never materialised in an entire year. Whereas Derek’s career went from strength to strength, and the higher he climbed, the more he trod my name into mud. I was cancelled. I hit rock bottom.” He glanced up at Jayden. “Emily took a chance on me.”

“Then you need to tell her the truth. She’ll take you back.”

“No, she won’t. And I wouldn’t expect her to. That was a commotion no one needs, especially not in a Santa’s grotto.”

“So, what are you going to do?”

“Go home.” Rick’s hands, once steady under the theatre’s lights, trembled as he held Jayden’s gaze. He clasped them together, a simple gesture to steady himself, but it felt like trying to hold on to sand—grain by grain. His resolve threatened to slip through his fingers.

Jayden blinked. “What? Home as in—”

“Dore. I should have done it when all this first happened instead of hoping it would all go away.” The Yorkshire accent he’d spent years polishing away crept into his voice at the thought of stepping back into the embrace of home. “Time didn’t work to stop the spread of hate. Mileage might.”

Jayden searched Rick’s face. “When?”

“I already had a ticket booked on the last train out on Christmas Eve, but I’ve swapped it.” Rick checked his watch. “For the one in an hour.”

“Fucking hell , Rick.” Jayden tumbled back as if Rick had physically pushed him away. “When are you back?”

Rick couldn’t answer. Because it could be never. And those words would taste like ash on Rick’s tongue. But the absence of any reply had Jayden spinning, marching away, grabbing the bin liner, and yanking the door open. Then he fled. Into swathing darkness.

The slam of the door rocked both the flat and Rick to his core.

* * * *

Jayden’s strides were brisk. Aggressive. And he navigated the labyrinth of Tottenham Court Road toward his Halls of Residence, Christmas lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of harsh glares mirroring his turmoil, clenching his fist around the twisted handles of another bin liner filled with his stuff. He hadn’t ever felt this angry .

This betrayed.

Hurt .

Not even when his mum hadn’t kept it together long enough for him to stay with her for more than a month. Nor when the swathes of potential carers rejected him on first sight. Or when the foster family who’d promised to adopt him sent him back to social services as if he were a stray dog unable to be re-homed.

There wasn’t a strong enough word for what he felt right now. He should be used to dismissal. To being cast away with the ease of turning off an unwanted show. Of being left hollowed by abandonment. But it didn’t get any easier. Rick hadn’t just packed a suitcase and turned his back on the truth. He’d packed up every ounce of trust Jayden had invested in him and stuffed it into a bin liner meant to be for rubbish, and not his worldly possessions.

He fucking hated bin liners.

Reaching the familiar gates to his university entrance, he pushed on through the eerie campus toward his building, footsteps heavy with a resentment he’d thought he’d shed. He let himself inside, where the corridor echoed and seemed vast, like it had grown a mile in his absence. On opening the door to his room, he barely had time to fling the bin liner onto his bed before his phone buzzed with an incoming call. Fishing it out, his thudding heart expected to see Rick’s name.

He didn’t.

“Hey, Nita.” Jayden wasn’t able to remove the gloom from his voice.

“Hey, stranger!” Nita’s voice, however, had that familiar drawl, a playful tone sprinkled with light, bringing Jayden back to a time when he’d thought it was okay to be alone. “Where you been hiding?”

Jayden flopped down on his bed with an elongated sigh. “Rick’s,” he said, clambering up to sit against his metal headboard and stare at four walls akin to a prison cell.

“Oooo, so Jayden won’t be lonely this Christmas?”

“No, Jayden will.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Single bells, single bells.” His soft huff of laughter as he sang the Christmas ditty, bitter and self-deprecating, failed to mask the ache in his chest. It was stronger now. As though granting himself hope for a future where he wasn’t alone had unearthed a stronger desire not to be.

“Fucking hell, mate, you go through men quicker than kids do wrapping paper.”

“Wasn’t my idea.” He bashed the back of his head on the metal poles. “Can’t even make Santa hang around until Christmas Eve.”

“I doubt that’s true. What happened?”

Jayden sighed. Then recounted the whole thing. What happened at the grotto, what Emily had confirmed, what Rick claimed was his version. Getting it all out made him even more furious with the whole rotten situation. How could Rick give up? Walk away? Not fight for himself? Why let a liar and a cheat win?

“The worst thing about it all is that I sort of understand where he’s coming from,” Jayden finished. “There’s always rumours about people in the public eye. Even denying them doesn’t help once it’s out there. Rick thinks it’s easier to accept it than fight it.”

“Oh, Jayden, I’m so sorry.” Nita’s voice softened, but Jayden could hear the steel beneath it along with the thoughtful frown. “I hate being so far away. Wish I was there. We’d have a cracking Christmas. Even if I don’t celebrate it.”

“Yeah. We would. Who needs Christmas, anyway?”

“Not us.”

A smile tugged at Jayden’s lips despite the ache in his heart. It hadn’t meant to end this way. He was supposed to be an elf . Cheeky. Cheerful. Spreading joy and warmth. Not left alone in a freezing room all by himself. It was the realisation steeped in resignation that stung. Not self-pity. The world spun on, indifferent to him and his yearning for a connection. With someone. With Rick . But he was strong. Resilient. Could withstand most storms. He had to. Etched into his bones from the moment he’d left his mother’s arms for a stranger’s, he was robust.

Strength never filled the emptiness, though.

“You gonna be okay?” Nita’s quiet question seemed to bounce off every wall.

“Yeah. Course.”

Nita didn’t believe him, but she closed the call anyway because what else could she do? Jayden settled under the covers, the weight of loneliness and what could’ve been, heavier than it had been before he’d met Rick.

Christmas would come.

As it always did.

And Jayden Collins, ever the survivor, would greet it in the same way he always did.

With indifference.