15. 15

"Ifucked up," Joq said as soon as his mother opened the door.

"No kidding," she retorted. "Come in. That poor boy," she ushered him inside. "I can't figure out where I went wrong raising you, I thought I did such a good job."

Joq groaned. Then he whirled on her. "How do you know he's upset?"

"We were at the dinner," she said and closed the door, glided past him and tossed her scarf over her neck as she did so. "The dinner he'd organised for you," she said with a pointed look on her way. "And then all those calls, that poor boy. Where were you?"

Shit. The dinner. He trailed after her and watched her put the kettle on, pull out two mugs, drop in tea bags.

"Well? And did you apologise? You had him worried sick, all of us, but he was a wreck," she shook her head, propped her hip against the counter and folded her arms. "First you waste twelve years of your life with that other one, and now you mistreat the good one. Don't think I missed how long it took you to include him in our dinners, and I understand wanting to keep your place, but that man has forever stamped all over you. Did he accept your apology?"

"I don't know why I talk to you," Joq replied and went and sat in the armchair in the sun room.

"Because no one else is brave enough to tell you the truth."

The kettle pinged. He listened to her pour. She brought over his tea.

"I haven't apologised yet," he said.

"Joaquin!" she said. "Why?" she held up her hand suddenly. "Don't answer that."

"Okay," he said readily because he didn't have an answer. He'd been sitting in the house for two days with Delia, staring at the wall and wondering where he went so wrong. The feeling had paralysed him. He had no answers. He missed Chris desperately, but he had no explanation and he had treated him like shit, never fully letting him in.

His mum sat down beside him, crossed her legs and blew on her tea before setting it aside.

"Do you actually love him? Of course, it's fine if you don't, I know you'll be fine on your own, I know I got that part right at least. You're very self-sufficient," she smiled at him, fond. But then she sobered. "But you can't do what that other awful one did to you to someone else."

"I don't mean to and I'm not, it's not the same."

She waited for him to go on, picked up her tea and blew on it again.

"I just, I saw George," he took a deep breath. "With his son," he finished heavily. "Did you know about that?"

"Everyone knows about that," she said dryly, sipped her tea. "Look, I can't stand the man, you know that, and the way he's parading around with that beach bum gives me a migraine, but when all's said and done, who cares about him, he wasn't right for you. The bigger problem was why you put up with it for so long. Did something happen? Did someone else do something to you when you were a boy that I don't know about?"

"Of course not," he replied but his mum was smiling like she knew it too.

"Well, if you're going to apologise you might want to do it soon. Two days," she shook her head at him. "If your father waited two days to make amends with me, I'd divorce him."

"Yeah, well, you're terrifying, so even if you're wrong, he's going to apologise."

"I'm never wrong," she smiled, winked. George always said she was like a terrifying version of Catherine Deneuve—Joq wasn't aware Deneuve had another side, but the point was she wasn't, she was actually a lot of fun, a lot of witty self-awareness in her remarks. It was her way of showing she loved you if you saw that side, which is probably why George never did.

Chris though, Chris thought she was hilarious.

"You like him," Joq said now.

"Chris? Of course I do, he adores you."

"No, I mean, you personally, you like him as a person."

"Well, yes, who wouldn't? He's lovely, charismatic but not full of himself, wealthy but even without the money he'd have the gravitas. But all that is irrelevant if you don't love him."

"Hmm," Joq thought about Chris. His mum was right, he was all that, and he was kind but he didn't want too many people to know that, and he was an exceptional partner. Joq did not miss the way he carved out their time and wouldn't let it be disturbed for the world. But none of that was why he loved him. He loved him because he was the best guy Joq had ever met and when he was with him, he felt like he was the best version of himself. He trusted himself again.

"I'm such a fool," he said again.

"Hmm," his mum sipped her tea. "I know, your father knows, your friends from work know and I'm pretty sure Chris' lawyer friend knows and wants to kill you. The point is, what are you going to do about it?"

"Apologise?"

"Two days," she shook her head again. "It's got to be your father's fault."

Joq laughed and she smiled at him, the sunlight catching her in a glow, the decades doing nothing to diminish her beauty.

He picked up his tea.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Drinking my tea?"

She huffed. "Get out of here and go and apologise."

Joq laughed. "Alright, alright," he set the tea down, leaned down to kiss her cheek. "Thanks, mum."

"Anytime. Now go on then, enough affection."

Joq left, feeling, well, not confident, but at least sure in his decision.

Chris wasn't in his office.

"Where is he?" he asked Terry.

She sat back and rocked in her chair, eyes narrowed. "He's busy. Somewhere else."

"Okay," Joq said slowly. He'd rather not wait. Now he'd decided to do this, he needed to do it now. "I think he'll want to see me."

"I don't," she replied.

Joq studied her. Chris never gave the impression they were particularly close, but Joq got the feeling she was well taken care of and was very fond of Chris as a result. Plus, whenever Joq heard him talking to her, it was direct, professional, but always respectful. They seemed like a handy team. Of course she was protecting her boss.

"Look, I just need to apologise, so if you can tell me where he is, I can go do that."

"Seems like the time to do that was after you left him high and dry," she retorted.

Before Joq could defend himself against yet another disgusted woman, she shook her head at him in revulsion and told him Chris was at a board meeting. Joq knew the building.

"I'm telling you because he said I always had to tell you, remember? And he hasn't rescinded that. Yet," she said heavily. "He should. In the meantime, you can wait in the lobby down there."

"Thank you," he walked off. He wasn't waiting in the lobby, he needed to do this now.

The board were convened in one of those glass meeting rooms so when the elevator doors opened, Joq could see the entire table of them, a series of suits. He was looking for one suit.

Chris was at one of the end of the table, one leg cocked across his other as he leaned back and listened to what someone else was saying. His hair was longer than when they first met, and it hung now in a mess of shaggy curls. As Joq watched, Chris ran a hand over his face, rubbed his mouth and seemed to sigh heavily.

Joq wasn't sure what the etiquette was here—pop his head in and say, ‘Hi, I need to talk to you,'—but he got his feet moving and approached.

Chris glanced his way, looking tired, but he roused himself when he recognised Joq.

Joq took a deep breath and kept moving.

"You can't go in there," a woman's voice said from his left.

"I just need a word," he started and darted his eyes back.

Chris was on his feet, eyebrows raised.

Fuck it. Joq pushed the door open.

He felt the eyes of every person in there swing his way.

"Joaquin? Is everything alright?" Chris asked and that he immediately reached for concern—not anger, not secrecy—compounded Joq's guilt.

"Fine, good, sorry to interrupt, but I needed to say something and then you can get back to it if that's alright?" Joq said.

"What could you possibly have to say?" Brendan asked. Joq glanced at him sitting to Chris' right.

"Brendan," Chris said, but his focus never left Joq. Joq met his eyes and took in how exhausted he looked. "Give us a minute," he directed at the room but before he could move, Joq just had to say it.

"I'm a fool," he said.

"Would you like to do this another time?" a woman asked.

Joq ignored her and it appeared Chris did too; he was frozen, standing there, eyes on Joq, waiting for him to go on.

"I'm so fucking sorry it took me two days to come after you," Joq said. "I should never have let you walk away. I'm sorry for all of it, missing dinner, holding back. And, well," he shrugged helplessly, "the house is lonely without you. Come home."

Chris' chest moved with his breath but he wasn't saying anything.

"That's all I came to say, sorry to interrupt," Joq tried to smile at the people around the table but it came out forced. "I'm sorry," he said again quietly just for Chris.

"Which part are you sorry for?" Brendan interjected. "Ghosting him? Failing to turn up to the bloody proposal dinner he planned? Or refusing to get a prenup?"

Joq glanced at him. "What proposal?" he trailed off. He returned his look to Chris. "Oh, no."

"You're getting married?" that same woman piped up again. "Without a prenup? Not if you're running this company you're not."

But Chris' eyes never left Joq's face; he wasn't smiling, he wasn't giving him anything, and he looked so beat down it was painful to look at him.

"I'm sorry," Joq said again.

Chris swallowed. "If everyone could give us a minute," he said to the room.

Joq was peripherally aware of people getting up and leaving, of Brendan grumbling, of the rumblings of what it would mean for the share price if Joq refused to get a prenup. He almost laughed—how could he refuse something he didn't know about?—but Chris' blank look stopped him.

The door swung shut on the last person and Joq breathed out the words again, "I'm so sorry."

Chris nodded, his eyes lifeless. He didn't speak; he looked like he was trying to figure out what to say.

Finally, he exhaled roughly and said, "I love you so much, you know that?"

Joq nodded awkwardly; he felt like his heart was going to burst.

"But I can't," Chris' voice cracked and he looked down. "I'm sorry, I can't go through this again."

Joq felt his heart shatter, and he nodded because he didn't quite know what else to do, which is when he realised he'd never imagined Chris rejecting him, because he never really had—even that brief rejection in Thailand had turned into a layer of kink in their sex life that'd brought them closer together.

"I understand," he managed, his voice unrecognisable. "I'll just," he took a step back.

Chris jerked his chin in acknowledgement but wouldn't meet Joq's eyes.

Joq had to get out of there. He turned, stumbled for the door and ignored all the eyes on him as he crossed for the elevators. As he stepped in and looked back, he saw Chris, his hands tucked in his pockets, head down, still as a statue as his board reconvened around him.

Joq blinked and felt a tear track down his face, it was hot; he didn't remember tears feeling hot before.