Simple words

The week that followed was probably the most stressful week of my life. It was hard to measure all the different things going on, because someone stole Dad’s car and he spent most of his time stomping around shouting at the insurance company and getting irrationally angry about me having to drive him to work.

Dad did not take the bus. He kept saying he hadn’t worked his entire life to take the frigging bus.

I wasn’t keen on the bus either. Didn’t mind the train. Preferred to drive.

I had most of the week off, which drove me crazy, and I bounced around the house like a ping-pong ball, wondering what people did at home all day. I tried to watch TV. Gathered all the clothes up from underneath my bed, then got frustrated and threw them right back down on the floor. I used to treasure my days off, having the house to myself, watching TV and lounging around. Making food. Tidying up. Letting the hours pass by while I did nothing.

I couldn’t even be bothered to try.

I liked my own company. I liked being alone. I always had. Things were easier when it was just me. But it wasn’t just me anymore, and it was driving me mad.

Gray kept disappearing to meetings for hours on end and said he couldn’t talk about what was going on but tried to reassure me it was all good, when I could tell it was anything but. He barely ate and kept throwing his hands up in the air and making angry, frustrated sounds like he was blowing hot and cold.

He promised it wasn’t me.

I wasn’t so sure anymore, but I went with it. Sorted out food. Put him to bed. Lay there quietly while he fell asleep in my arms, my fingers tangled in his hair.

Me. Him.

Fuck.

I was back to making lists in my head.

Reasons I should refuse to move in with Gray.

Reasons I should go back to school and get an education.

Reasons why that would be a stupid idea because I would be totally broke.

Reasons why I should throw him out and block him and stop this utter nonsense.

I was also looking at furniture and picking out bed linen for a king-size bed. Like the total idiot I obviously was.

By Saturday evening, I was scooting around like a Duracell bunny. I’d been off work again, and Gray had been away since early morning. Not a single text all day. Now he was back.

“Hey,” he said, like this was normal.

I felt like a frustrated housewife, demanding to know where he’d been. Not that I actually did that.

Or maybe I did.

“Things are really weird,” he continued.

“How?” I asked. Like this was a normal conversation to have.

“Everything has…stopped. Management are completely silent. No messages. All numbers go to voicemail. There’s just nothing. Silence. Flatline.”

“Okay?” I wasn’t following.

“But at the same time? Things are moving,” he said quietly, now sitting at the kitchen table, then getting up and flicking the kettle on, while I just stood there with the frigging tea towel in my hand.

“And?” I didn’t know why I was asking when I had no idea what was going on.

“I sat down with your dad yesterday when you were out shopping. Went through my income and outgoings and things that I need to get on top of. I don’t know why I haven’t done it before. Perhaps because it felt really frightening to actually crunch the numbers.”

“Dad’s good at that,” I said.

“He’s really good. Explained it all to me in simple terms. Small steps. So most of my income in the next two months will have to go to this new law firm that we’ve taken on. We’re suing for breach of contract, and…lots of big words. We also need to stop this shitty new album that’s due out. It’s not even me singing on it, even if it sounds like me. It’s all session singers and AI. Total bullshit. If we win, we get some kind of compensation for the past ten years of working for peanuts. Then, hopefully…we can all move on.”

“And if you lose?”

“We’re not going to lose. We have people for that. And we’re filming our interviews with these financial people, and all our meetings are recorded, like some messed-up reality show. In fact, there are people making that documentary at the same time, so if we lose, well…” The kettle boiled. He added teabags to two mugs and filled them with water. “The way that Michelle explained it, it’s about us getting it angled right. We don’t want to come across as whinging children who didn’t understand what we were doing. We always knew they were screwing us over. We just didn’t realise how much. I trusted them. We all did…up to a point.”

“Of course you did. I mean, it’s a job at the end of the day. You trust that your contract is solid and if you do the job, you get paid accordingly.”

“Yeah,” he said, dunking the teabags. “I just feel so stupid. Like I was the last one to do something about it. Turns out Lee has been working behind the scenes to get us a better deal. He’s been right in their faces, all this time, and now he’s terrified he did more damage than good. At least he was doing something. I just sat in my bloody ugly house moaning about some idiot stalker. It was all my fault anyway because I was the one who befriended him. I let him hang out and invited him in and gave him the keycode. Then when things got weird, I was the one who forgot to change it. How stupid was I?”

“Stupid,” I agreed. “But he still got convicted, didn’t he? Wasn’t your fault that he was a bit of a psycho.”

“Psycho, and psycho.” He grabbed a piece of kitchen towel. Blew his nose. “I’m one to talk. I just barged in here and decided you were my boyfriend. How messed up is that? I know how to be a decent person, I just don’t…do very well at it.”

“You are a decent person,” I said softly, walking up to him and wrapping him up a hug. “You’re decent and kind and very generous. Even though you don’t pay any rent.”

He snorted. He had tried to pay rent, but my dad had yelled at him not to be so bloody stupid with money and reversed the payment, seeing as he was barely here anyway.

Dad made me pay rent.

“Idiot,” I murmured into Gray’s neck. No wonder my dad loved him. “He’d let you get away with murder, d’you know that?”

“Yep. You still love him, though.”

“I do,” I agreed. “Almost as much as…” I stopped myself saying it.

“I love you too,” he whispered, stroking up and down my back, slow, comforting movements. “I actually do. And you don’t have to say it because I know. We just…you know?”

“I know.” I wasn’t sure what I knew, other than that we needed to have a talk about the boring stuff. “Can we still pay the bills on the house if you have no income?”

“I’d rather talk about how much I love you,” he complained with a snuffle. “But I’m not completely bonkers. I have savings and some income. I was hoping that one day, I could just stop working, walk away from it. Turns out that I could quit now, and you and I could live in that house, happily ever after. Well, I have enough to not work for a year—two if we don’t actually spend any money on things like food.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“The rest is tied up in this lawsuit. And Blitz industries will have had all their assets frozen next week while they’re being investigated. It’s a big thing. A lot of money. Asif—that’s Musa’s cousin—he’s a super bright guy. He was headhunted into the law firm he’s with before he’d even passed his exams, and he doesn’t come cheap.”

I still didn’t understand what was going on. Neither did Gray, it seemed, as he once again threw his hands in the air and shook his head. Blew air out of his nose.

I laughed. “You’re full of shit. You expect me to believe that? You’re only saying that so you can guilt trip me into agreeing to your madness.”

“What madness?”

“Even Dad is on about how we could pay less rent living with you than we pay for this shithole. And we’d be in a central location.”

He lit up. Grinned and grabbed my face. Smashed his lips on mine.

“Secure parking. Your dad agrees. It’s a good option.”

“Fuck you.”

“Reubs. Honestly.”

“Gray.” I sighed.

“Come with me tomorrow. I’m meeting with Michelle again, you know. Scary agency lady.”

“Brr.”

“She’s nice.”

“They all are. Until they fuck you over.”

He rolled his eyes. Handed me a cup of tea.

“I’ll draw up contracts for us, Stewart and I talked about it. A ten-year plan. No bloody stupid clauses. Just a rent agreement, which would mean I pay for my bills. You pay for your bills. We have set—”

“Stop,” I said firmly. “Too much.”

“Okay.” He took a sip of his tea. “One day at a time, yeah? And anyway…” He grabbed his rucksack, rummaged around inside. Held out a bunch of keys. “I picked up these from Agnes, had to get an Uber since the drivers…well. No more drivers for now. Agnes had all the locks changed this morning. The movers are getting my stuff in tomorrow after lunch, and then there’s a cleaning and styling service coming in. We could…if you wanted to…we could sleep there tomorrow night.”

“Stop!” I shouted. “Just…let me breathe for a second.”

“Okay.”

He took his tea to the table and sat, while I hyperventilated.

“You always do this. Too much, too fast, too soon.”

“There are no rules here,” he argued.

“Oh, yes there are.”

“Look, Reubs. We can’t keep sleeping here. My back is killing me, and you can’t even stand up most mornings, complaining your arm is numb. But go on. You’re the expert problem solver.”

Rude, maybe, but he made me laugh. He was so bloody dry.

“Gray,”

“I love you. Remember that.”

“It’s only been fucking weeks, Gray!”

“One year, seven months, three weeks and two days. I checked. Since I was drunk at the BAFTAs.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t. You love me. And we have a house. That’s another thing I asked my solicitor about today.”

“The one who’s suing your company and making you broke?”

“No, that’s someone else. Also employed by Blitz. Fuck. But anyway, he’s sorting out the sale of my old house and the purchase of our new one, so I’ll have some money in the bank. I asked him to put your name on the deeds. It makes it fair and also gives me a bigger tax break. Then we’ll own it fifty-fifty.”

“Arsehole,” I grunted. “You can’t do that. You can’t just give me half a house.”

“I can. I mean, what you gonna do about it?”

“This is bullshit.”

“No. No bullshit. Your uncle is a tax expert, remember? Stewart rang him last night. It’s all fully deductible, and as a first-time buyer, it means you…”

I let my head fall into my hands and screamed. For real.

“Trust me,” he said.

I laughed. “I one hundred percent don’t trust you.”

“Well, I trust you. And your dad.”

“Yeah, but you have trust issues. Let me make you a long list why this is the most fucked up thing I have ever heard!” I was shouting, and I wasn’t even ashamed of it. “First off, we can’t just set up house after a few weeks like we’re a thing!”

He shook his head. “It all boils down to three simple little words—oh, hang on, I think you just wrote some lyrics, right there. Ha! I’ll put you down as the co-writer. Bam. Royalties for you too. And I can do that, you know, because even though you don’t think you deserve all this, that I’m the one being stupid here, we are a thing, Reubs. You and me.”

“Doesn’t mean you can buy me with gifts. Like…half houses or whatever.”

“No but I can make sure you’re safe. That you’re looked after. And perhaps you could let me, seeing as you do so much more for me. You rescue me when I need it. Bring me food. Let me suck your dick. You know. Normal things. We look after each other. Remember that. You and me.”

“Simple words, eh?” I muttered. “The dick thing doesn’t count.”

“It does. Want that in the contract too?”

“No,” I shouted, but I was laughing too. “Stop it. Now.”

“I love you,” he said. “It’s that simple.”