8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

The house had been closed up for a few weeks due to the lead up to Christmas then the New Year activities keeping them in town, so first order of business was airing the place out. Sebastian walked around the small cottage, opening windows and doors, allowing the fresh salt-tinged air to flutter the sheer curtains. Then he put away the groceries he'd brought with him, frowning at the ingredients for dinners for one. Usually Owen would be with him, asking him about the meals they were going to have, planning barbecues, and picnics on the beach. Now he was talking to himself as he put the solo steak onto the refrigerator shelf. He closed the fridge door with enough force to cause the bottles to rattle then put on some music. That's better. Music was better than the silence that only served to remind him he was alone.

Needing more distraction, Sebastian put away his clothes, and made up the bed with fresh linens, before running a duster over all the surfaces. Usually, he didn't care about the fine layer of dust that built up while the house was empty, but Owen did. He'd run the vacuum over the floors and dust the furniture, while Sebastian checked the outside of the house making sure all was in order.

God, so many little things that Owen does every day to take care of me, to make us a home.

He sighed and tossed the duster into the laundry tub and returned to the living room, sinking onto the couch and looking around despondently.

The doubts hit. Had he done the right thing? Maybe he'd been too hasty in leaving Owen by himself? But, hell, he couldn't just sit by and allow things to continue the way were going. He'd had to do something . Sebastian swung his feet up stuffing a scatter cushion between the arm of the couch and his head. He stared at the ceiling as he contemplated what had gone wrong. It was so bloody frustrating that Owen was so hard on himself. Ever since his accident, he'd pushed himself to get better, following doctor's instructions to the letter, and undertaking the recommended therapy. At the first sign the healing process wouldn't be simple, he'd put on a brave face and kept on going. He'd been positive and upbeat doing everything in his power to make sure Sebastian wasn't dragged down by his troubles. But that's the problem, isn't it? We should be facing this together.

Sebastian was in it for the long haul. The good times and the bad, as the saying went, and he didn't need protection. But Owen ignored all his efforts to reassure him he understood the situation. Owen wanted to shield Sebastian from his pain instead of leaning on him. Worst of all, he really seemed to believe that he was holding Sebastian back and that he'd be better off without him.

Sebastian sighed. Once again, he hoped he'd done the right thing. He hoped the space he'd given Owen would give him time to think without having to curb his behaviour all the time. Owen wouldn't have to always put on that brave face and pretend he wasn't hurting, or that he wasn't exhausted from the lack of sleep. But he'd hopefully heed the wakeup call and realise that he didn't have to go through this alone if he trusted in their relationship, trusted in Sebastian, and in the strength of their love.

A bird called outside. Sebastian looked to the open window where the curtain still blew in the gentle breeze. Through the greenery he glimpsed bright blue sky. It was a perfect afternoon and the outdoors beckoned. He hauled himself up from the couch. Fresh air and some exercise, that's what he needed. Maybe after a couple of hours kayaking he'd be able to sleep well instead of tossing and turning as he worried about Owen, and stressing about the two of them and how things had reached this point.

Owen's phone buzzed from the bedside table and his first response was to ignore it. It was nearly eleven at night—not that he was able to sleep anyway but he still didn't fancy having a conversation with anyone. Only the thought it could be Sebastian had Owen reaching for it. The caller ID displayed Matt's name and he was tempted to ignore the call. However, he knew Matt would only call back—as he'd done a few times already. He swiped the screen and fell back against the pillows.

"Matt."

"Well, hello to you too."

"Not in the mood, Matt. What can I do for you?"

"Is that any way to greet your friends?"

"Like I said, not in the mood." Owen could hear Matt sigh on the other end of the call, but damn him, Owen wasn't in the frame of mind to have a friendly conversation.

"Maybe it's time you did get in the mood." Matt's voice had bite, not that Owen blamed him. He just couldn't get up the energy to snap back.

"What do you want, Matt? Why are you calling so late?"

"You wouldn't answer your phone any other time. I wanted to see how you're doing, but I guess I can tell that without you saying much of anything. Grumpy old bugger, aren't you?" Matt's words stung, but Owen remained silent. "You haven't returned any of my calls…"

There was silence for a couple of moments until Owen felt tempted to fill it. "Yeah, sorry about that. I've been busy."

Matt snorted. "Busy? That's bullshit. Not too busy to be able to fit in a phone call. Listen, I've been worried about you."

Owen felt a little guilty. He plucked at the bedclothes, smoothing the sheet over his lap. "Sorry," he said without much enthusiasm.

"How are you getting on with Sebastian not being there?" Matt cut straight to the chase.

"I'm fine," Owen said automatically. "Hey, how'd you know about that?"

There was silence for a moment before Matt answered. "Seb called me. Told me a bit about what happened."

"He asked you to check up on me, didn't he?"

"Maybe. Listen, he's just worried about you. I know you guys had an argument—"

"An argument? More like arguments plural."

"He just wants what's best for you, Owen."

Owen's chest grew tight. "I know."

"I hope you don't mind me butting in—"

"It's a bit late to stop you now," Owen said, the sarcasm heavy in his tone, "so go right ahead."

Matt didn't wait for further permission and showed no reluctance in saying what he wanted to say. "I've known you guys since you first met. I don't think I've ever met a couple more suited to each other. Fuck, I'm totally jealous of the two of you, but you've got to get it together, mate."

Owen sat up straighter. "Now wait a minute. There are two sides to every story. How do you know I'm the one with the problem?"

Matt huffed into the phone. "You're right. I'm sure things aren't perfect, and you both have your faults, but even I've seen you pushing Sebastian away."

"What?" Owen gripped the phone tightly, conscious his voice had risen an octave.

"I don't think you even realise you're doing it, or maybe you do, but for some reason you keep voicing doubts Seb doesn't even have, sabotaging your own relationship. It's like you want him to leave you."

Owen glanced at the empty side of the bed, a hollow feeling in his stomach, suddenly feeling that perhaps it would be good to speak to somebody. "Maybe he'd be better off without me." Through a tight throat, Owen finally voiced the thought that had been plaguing him for months.

"Oh, for God's sake, cut the crap." Matt's voice was angry. So much for him providing a sympathetic ear.

Owen's own anger rose in return. "I'm falling apart, Matt," he spat. "My shoulder is fucked and it's not getting any better. I can't sleep properly. I'm short-tempered and a miserable bastard to live with. I've let some things fall through the cracks with the business. What do I have to offer Sebastian? A falling apart old man. He deserves someone closer to his own age, not fifteen years older. He deserves so much better. He deserves someone who can do everything with him."

"Owen? You are everything to him." There was a long pause, as if Matt was gathering his thoughts. "Listen, mate, I can't tell you what to do or how to think, but I can tell you what I know and see, and I'm sure if you step back a bit, you'll see it too. That boy is crazy for you. You could be sixty, hell, eighty, and he'd still be madly in love with you. But if you don't wake up to yourself soon, it might be too late. Don't let the best thing that happened to you—to both of you—get away."

There wasn't much more to be said. Matt had made himself perfectly clear and given Owen something to think about. After somewhat reluctantly agreeing to meet Matt for lunch the next day, he placed the phone on the bedside table and stared at the shadows on the ceiling.

Matt had basically said the same thing Sebastian had said. Maybe there was some truth to it, and he should start to believe Sebastian. Believe in them.