Chapter 16

The light kiss on his head felt like a shield. It infiltrated his veins, tingling through him. Like he'd drunk a courageous potion.

It gave Carl strength.

He flew to Melbourne, then to Tassie, then bussed all the way to Earnest Point, arriving to the scene he'd once painted for Grayson: sunshine over quaint cottages and colourful gardens with falling autumn leaves.

It looked even prettier than he'd remembered it, and except for the storm of anxiety brewing in his stomach—and in his heart—no one could wish a pleasanter home.

A gust whooshing over the town square sprayed fountain water over Carl's face. He chuckled. Not the first time that'd happened! What a proper welcome.

He wiped it off with his sleeve, and his chuckle froze as he glimpsed Cora in her signature red crossing the street—

She halted on the footpath, scarf fluttering around her, a bright magazine crushed against her chest. Eyes that Carl had looked into a million times held his, and filled with tears.

Ten seconds, twenty. Neither could move.

I believe in you.

Carl swallowed thickly, and took a wobbly first step towards her.

They talked for a long time—untilthe air had chilled, and their embraces became buffers against the wind. A conversation he'd dreaded and avoided and run away from. One single conversation, and they were fundamentally changed. In the space of a few honest words, they'd become closer. Formed the beginnings of a new bond.

"Mum," he said a couple of times, and Cora began weeping.

"Patricia's your real mum. She raised you."

"Yeah. But indulge me this once? I've wanted to say it for years."

"I've secretly wanted to hear it, too." She hugged him fiercely, the magazine she held slipping to Carl's lap as she peppered sweet little kisses atop his head. He squeezed her back. Tight, tighter. He wouldn't let her go.

She laughed again and pulled back, swiping the dribbling mascara off her face. "I always thought horoscopes were silly, fun nonsense I indulged in. I never thought they could be so right." She prodded a finger at the magazine on Carl's lap. "It said something great would happen. Something I'd cherish for the rest of my life." She laughed even as more tears streamed down her face. "Both my sons have acknowledged me. Forgiven me."

Sons.

He closed his eyes on the heaving warmth in his chest.It was almost too much, and he curled one hand tight, feeling the ghost of Grayson's in his like he had while practicing this conversation. "You and me, we have lots in common."

He picked up the magazine, flicked through it, and read out the fateful horoscope while sneaking peeks at her joyous, laughing face.

"See? Pretty insightful. What's yours?"

Carl glanced over his own, nodded, and snapped the magazine shut.

"What does it say?" Cora asked, nabbing the magazine back. "Is it apt?"

Like it could've been written about him. "It's got a lot of integrity, this one. I know what I have to do."

"Ah, talk to Pete," Cora said. "Have you seen him yet?"

Carl shook his head.

"Well. Speak of the devil." She was looking over his shoulder, and Carl held his breath and turned around.

Pete and Nick were walking around the fountain, hand-in-hand. When Pete spotted him, he murmured something to his fiancé and moved alone towards Carl.

Cora gave him another quick peck as she rose. "I'd best leave you to it."

Pete worecasual jeans and a grim smile; Carl had seen this smile once or twice in their many years knowing one another, and it meant Carl was in the proverbial doghouse.

He tensed on the park bench and Pete plunked himself at the other end, leaving a good amount of space between them. Something that might, a year ago, have felt like a punch to his gut, but today... today it didn't bother Carl at all. He could've done with more distance.

Pete scrolled an assessing eye over him. "You look wrecked."

"I came straight from the airport."

There was an acknowledging glance at Carl's suitcase, and a tight nod.

"I thought you were acting off these last few weeks. I couldn't understand your sudden fascination with the sergeant. Turns out, it wasn't you at all."

Carl wished, desperately wished, he'd practiced this conversation with Grayson, too. He swallowed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Why?" Pete asked.

Carl blurted, "I was pretending I was okay with it. That it didn't hurt every time I saw you together. But, back then, it did hurt. And I couldn't bear being your best man, so I..."

"Dreamed up the insane plot to have your brother act in your stead?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Why didn't you tell me it was too much?"

Carl paused at this, frowned, and slowly met Pete's gaze. "Why didn't you know?"

The disappointment in Pete's eyes shifted to uncertainty and he looked away, swallowing. "You're right. I should have." His brow crunched. "I was so lost in Nick, I... I became selfish."

"You became selfish, and I became stupid. I'm sorry for lying to you, Pete."

After a few quiet moments, Pete murmured, "Did I break your heart badly?"

Carl's throat stung. "At first it seemed dashed to pieces. Irreparable."

"At first?"

"I've had a lot of conversations over the last few weeks. Each one has been piecing it back together. Not only fixing it but making it stronger. Now it beats harder than it ever has before."

Pete observed him quietly.

Carl had been reflecting on those conversations; he hadn't realised he was smiling. He fingered the curve at his lips, and it deepened.

"Who's that for?" Pete asked.

Carl looked over at him, and laughed. He stood and took hold of his suitcase.

Carl spentthe night in his own house and had dreams, lots of them, all of Grayson in grey, staring at him with insanely dark eyes. Carl kept running towards him, but every time he got close, poof, the guy vanished. It was all extremely irritating. So close to toppling into him, so close to a few moments of pleasantness... Honestly, it was like Dream Grayson was teasing him. There was even the quirk of his lips each time Carl narrowly missed flattening him to the ground.

Carl woke cursing the Scorpio for stirring him up. Grayson would have to take responsibility for this.

So he texted Grayson something along those lines.

It wasn't enough. There was something else he had to do.

He found his trusty bike, pumped up the flat tires, and raced into town. As he hit the centre, his convenience store in sight, a familiar, spine-chilling "Oi!" had him coming to a whooshing, tire-squealing halt.

Oh, hell. Not even twenty-four hours, and he'd already incurred the wrath of Sergeant Owen.

"What have I done now?"

Owen folded his arms. "You're back, I see."

"And despite falling for my twin, you're set to give me another ticket?" Carl looked around, trying to figure out what he'd done wrong.

Knuckles rapped his helmet. "I stopped you out of sheer shock. You're wearing one of these."

Carl hopped off his bike, leaned it against a bike stand and took Toto off. He'd been surprised to see Grayson's trusty red helmet stowed away inside his luggage. And unnerved. Had Grayson thought of this as a parting gift? In case Carl...

He crushed the helmet close to his chest, like it was one of those popping-out hearts that he was trying to rein back in. This was why he was racing here. He needed to see Jason. Tell him he'd got himself in a few predicaments back in Wellington. Get his okay about things. Tell him he was going back.

Ideally, he should've barged into his neighbour's place last night and talked then, he'd be halfway back by now. But... Sergeant Owen could be scary. He'd glimpsed the two entering their place entangled in one another's arms, and wisely decided against interrupting.

Said neighbour, the town policeman, his soon-to-be-in-law-probably, was still speaking. ". . . you."

"What?"

A slow blink. "You haven't changed that much. I was saying thank you."

"You're thanking me?"

"For being an idiot and thereby making me the happiest man in the world. Your brother—" Owen's smile dazzled. "He's quite something."

"Quite something?"

"My everything."

Carl was all out of sorts. He wasn't used to Sergeant Owen without a chastising frown. But if it meant fewer tickets in future, and if it meant Jason had found love and was happy...

He smiled and nodded.

Owen shook his head. "Off you go."

Carl dashed for his convenience store.