Chapter 5
The Dulcys, Marie and Edward, stayed at Pete and Stitch’s flat. They took the bed, while Pete and the puppies took the couch. Captain sniffed Stitch’s shoes and whined, while Beefheart never left Pete’s lap. Pete tried to explain that Stitch would be back and everything was fine, but the dogs seemed unconvinced. Pete wondered if they knew something he didn’t. It seemed like everyone was in on some secret from which he’d been excluded.
Pete had expected Stitch’s parents to be hung up on Pete being a man, but they were warm and supportive. Edward was quiet, but he made small talk about the dogs and Pete’s cooking. Marie was also reserved, but compared to her husband, she was a chatterbox. They never talked about why they were there, but they often talked about Stitch. Pete ate up every story of Stitch’s youth and was thrilled when Marie produced a photo album. There was even a picture of Stitch and his lesbian “girlfriend.”
“Honestly,” Marie sighed, “the only thing they had in common was that they were both in total denial. It was sad, really.”
From Marie, Pete learned that Stitch has always been a “troubled soul” who took everything too hard.
“He was always so bright and handsome and so intelligent and so talented, but he never believed. Even as a little boy, he never believed he was good enough.”
Pete held Marie while she cried and Edward looked painfully uncomfortable.
xxx
When Pete and the Dulcys returned to the hospital, they were surprised to learn Henry had been transferred to the psychiatric ward. Pete was prepared for the worst, but he found Stitch looking downright cheerful in his hospital-issued bathrobe. He explained that he’d been transferred of his own accord.
“I need to get my head on straight,” Stitch explained as he twitched and shifted in his seat. “I’m too old for this bullsh- this nonsense. Sorry, Mum. I have committed to thirty days of sobriety and I’m going to give everything a chance and get better and… I’m so mortified. I feel like such a tit. Sorry, Mum.”
Henry’s father spoke for the first time. “Heroin? Why? I just can’t…”
“Edward!” Marie snapped. “We’re here to support Henry.”
“I don’t do heroin,” Stitch said firmly. He was less self-assured as he continued, “I do coke sometimes. The psychiatrist thinks I might have some sensory issues… The point is, I got some cocaine from Dave. Shit. Sorry, Mum.”
“I knew that boy was on something,” Edward said quietly. “That whole family was on something.”
“So don’t go telling everyone, but yes, Dave gave me some cocaine, and he warned me that it was really pure and to go easy, but then I heard Charles and I got anxious and I took too much…”
Marie scowled at the mention of Charles.
“Charles? That two-timing piece of you-know-what?”
Stitch gave a tight smile. “That Charles. Anyway, I was stupid and I don’t know if I was O.D.ing on the coke or just having a panic attack, but Charles shoved some heroin in my face and told me it would help, and then everything went black.”
“Why would you trust anything from him? You know he’s a liar and a creep,” Marie was clearly torn between wanting to be soothing and her loathing of Charles. “It could have been anything.”
“We’re sort of friends now,” Stitch explained, while staring anywhere but at the people in front of him. “Can I have a moment with Pete? Please?”
Xxx
Pete stared at a soothing mural on the wall as Stitch explained that, as far as his parents knew, the first time Charles had cheated on Henry was the end of their relationship.
“I don’t want them to know how pathetic I am,” Stitch said bluntly. “I’d prefer they stay in the dark on that one, if you don’t mind.”
Pete wondered if the soothing mural had been created for its purpose, or if someone had just seen it and thought it would be good for a psych ward.
“Do you mind?” Stitch asked quietly. “Because you can tell my parents the truth. Tell them anything you want. I’m in no position to ask you for favors.”
Pete shook his head. “I won’t tell them anything, Stitch.”
He wished he and Stitch could be alone, without any staff quietly observing them. He wanted to crawl into Stitch’s lap. He was too far away from Stitch to feel properly safe or secure.
“Please look at me, Pete.”
Pete wanted to look at Stitch; he just couldn’t seem to get his brain to calm down, no matter how hard he stared at the soothing image.
“When Charles first asked me out, I was so flattered. He was so far out of my league in every way and tried so hard to impress me back then. I wasn’t used to that much attention, so I fucked up and I was an arsehole, and then he found other people…”
Pete couldn’t look Stitch in the eye, but he reached out for one of his hands. Stitch had beautiful, long-fingered hands that made Pete’s look tiny and childish.
“Charles’s mate thinks you both like games.”
“What mate?”
Pete felt strangely guilty. If he’d gone looking for Stitch instead of dutifully living in denial, maybe things would have turned out differently. Maybe not. If Dave’s coke was too strong for Stitch, it would have knocked Pete on his ass. He still remembered the first time he’d tried poppers with Stitch. He’d been completely off his tits and terribly confused by how it had made him feel. He’d already had a crush on Stitch, but the poppers had made him want Stitch with a kind of desperation he had never felt before.
“Some bloke named Arthur.” Stitch frowned at the name, but Pete continued. “He bought me a beer and was kind of chatting me up, I guess.”
Stitch muttered “motherfucker” under his breath. Pete took it as a sign to continue.
“He said Charles was after you because he couldn’t control you, and…” He couldn’t repeat the hint that Charles and Stitch were still sleeping together, and there wasn’t much else to say.
“He must have sent Arthur to distract you,” Stitch mused. “But why? So he could give me heroin? It doesn’t make sense.”
“I think he just wanted to get you alone in the men’s room, Stitch. Pretty sure his creepy mate was the one watching us the last time we…” Pete glanced at the staff member who was trying very hard to pretend not to listen. He lowered his voice and continued, “I don’t know how much of this he planned or what he knew…”
That was the real question. There was only so much of the evening that Charles could have manipulated on his own. Had he seen Stitch and made a move, or had he come to the club knowing Stitch would be there? Maybe even that Dave would be there and holding.
Pete waited for Stitch to speak, but after what felt like a long silence, he finally looked directly at Stitch, who was staring off into space with a familiar but unreadable expression on his face.
“What is it, Stitch?”
“I told him where we were going to be. I didn’t even think about it. Charles doesn’t give a shit about me, but he would love to see me ruin what I have with you. It would make his day to see me fuck this up.”
“Pretty sure he does give a shit, Stitch.”
Pete looked into Stitch’s eyes and willed the older man to say something that would make everything okay.
“Have I fucked this up? I know I have, but… irreparably?” Stitch asked. He looked so painfully sad that Pete forgot about acting like a civilized adult and jumped into Stitch’s lap.
“I’m the poster boy for codependence,” Pete reminded him. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
Xxx
It was nice having Stitch’s folks around. Pete hadn’t seen his Mum since two Christmases earlier. She had married a philanthropist and they traveled the world, advocating for the downtrodden. Pete was proud of his mother and stepfather, but he envied Stitch having his parents so available. Pete was aware his birth had been an unexpected surprise that had taken his mother off track from her ambitions. Stitch, on the other hand, had been very much wanted. Marie said it had taken three years of trying to get Stitch. Pete found it fitting that, even before conception, Stitch had played hard to get. If Stitch were a manipulator like Charles, the world would surely be at his feet.
“You should open a restaurant,” Edward suggested after tasting Pete’s lemon pancakes with blueberry compote.
“My gram had a restaurant. It was really hard work.”
Pete had never had a father, but he recognized the intense “dadness” of his expression and tone as he spoke. “Never be afraid of hard work, son. Nothing worth having comes easy in this world.”
“Don’t lecture the boy,” Marie tsked. “He’s been through enough.”
“S’all right, Mrs. Dulcy. He’s right. I had to work hard to get Stitch.”
Marie’s eyes welled up and she gave Pete a tight hug before excusing herself. Alone with Stitch’s father, Pete wished he were up to date on some football scores. Henry wasn’t much of a fan, so Pete didn’t watch nearly as much sports as he used to. Stitch gamely watched any event Pete was excited about and he tried very hard to be interested. Overall, Pete preferred just snuggling up on the couch with Stitch while he watched his documentaries. It didn’t really matter what they were about; Stitch would watch them all, and Pete was learning a lot of strange things, like how to tickle a shark unconscious. It was part of how they mated. The male would knock the female out so she couldn’t run away and then mated with her. He’d made Stitch laugh by calling sharks the “Charles of the sea.”
“I hope my son appreciates you,” Edward said in an oddly formal tone.
Pete blushed from head to toe and mumbled, “He does.”
He knew Stitch appreciated him. No one had ever been so loving and attentive to Pete before.
“If he ever forgets, you let me know and I’ll have a talk with him.”
Pete wanted to cry, but he didn’t dare blubber in front of Stitch’s dad after the man had clearly put a lot of effort into expressing himself. Seeing how reserved his folks were, Pete had a whole new appreciation of Stitch.
“I’m the one who’s lucky, sir. Henry’s amazing.”
Edward gave a sad smile and said, “I don’t know why Henry was with this Charles person, after all he went through…”
“They’re just mates,” Pete interjected too quickly. “But I reckon Charles never really got over Stitch-I mean, Henry. That’s not Henry’s fault.”
Pete’s brain produced images of Stitch and Charles kissing and more than kissing in the men’s room, faster than Pete could push them away.
“I’m sure you have plenty of ex-boyfriends that Henry doesn’t want sniffing around. Don’t let him hedge his bets.”
“I ain’t got any ex-boyfriends. I have an ex-girlfriend that Stitch don’t like me talking to, but she’s pretty crazy and she just likes me as her gay best friend now, and there’s…”
Pete trailed off when he remembered Henry’s family knew all about Poppy. They (hopefully) didn’t know about Pete’s relationship with her, but they knew Dave’s eccentric family.
Edward looked surprised, and Pete wondered if he was surprised Stitch was dating a bisexual or if he was just really surprised Pete wasn’t the poofiest poofter to ever poof. Other than a few crushes, Pete had viewed himself as heterosexual until he’d met Henry, and yet everyone seemed to think he’d always really been gay. Henry said it was because people dismissed bisexuality, but Pete had a feeling that it also had to do with his general lack of manliness. It was funny, because Stitch was the least gay-seeming person Pete had ever met. Some days, Stitch didn’t even comb his hair. He just looked at it, shrugged, and went about his day as though nothing else could be done.
“Charles is bad for Henry. I’m scared Henry might go back to him.”
Pete wasn’t sure why he’d said it, but he felt lighter for saying it out loud.
Edward put a soothing hand on Pete’s shoulder and said, “I don’t know what is going on with my son right now, but I can promise you that he will always care more about breakfast than fancy suits and cars.”
Xxx
Pete fought the urge to shift about in his seat and tried to look like a proper adult in front of Stitch’s therapist. Stitch really admired her and thought she was extremely intelligent and insightful, which was odd because Henry generally though people were idiots. Stitch’s admiration for and faith in the therapist made Pete nervous. He wasn’t sure how well he was going to come across to a mental health professional. He might end up taking Stitch’s place.
“Henry is going to be released tomorrow,” she began, “and he wants to really start off on the right foot, especially with you. Is that correct, Henry?”
Stitch nodded, but avoided Pete’s eyes.
“What would you like to say to Pete?”
Stitch pulled out a handful of papers from the pocket of his dressing gown.
“Um… So, first off, sober for thirty days and taking an anti-depressant, and I have some anti-anxiety medications for emergencies. I won’t have enough to overdose with. Um… Then here is my plan for not being drunk or high all the time.”
He handed Pete a list written in Stitch’s meticulously neat and tiny handwriting. Stitch had created a detailed list of how often and when he would indulge in his various addictions. No drinking before 8pm, cocaine twice a year, poppers only when Pete wanted to use them, heroin with a big x through it.
“You are mental, Stitch,” Pete laughed, before remembering they were in fact in a psychiatric ward. “No, for real, I just mean… you know.”
Stitch smiled warmly and shrugged. “I need concrete limits. And that leads me to this.”
Henry handed Pete another piece of paper with the passwords to his ‘professional’ and personal e-mail accounts and the voicemail on his mobile.
“I don’t know what you heard, but I want you to know that I had no intention of seeing Charles that night, and what he said…”
“You don’t have to explain,” Pete said as a panic rose in his stomach.
“I’m a bit hazy, but what I remember is Charles being way too close and making me panic, and then I took the heroin and… I felt like my body was just shutting down. I don’t know what happened, but I was not an active participant.”
“Oh, Henry,” Pete sighed. He scooted his chair closer to Stitch and put his head on Stitch’s shoulder.
“I wasn’t looking for anything with Charles… but I realize that I put those wheels in motion by keeping contact with him.”
“I’m going to rip his eyeballs out so he can see what at arsehole he is.”
Stitch gave a weak smile. “I want you to look at everything. I don’t want any more secrets, not about Charles. Read every e-mail, listen to the voicemails, you can go through my mobile and read the texts. I want you to know the truth.”
“I don’t want to read your e-mails…”
“I want you to. I want you to know everything, so you can decide how you want to move forward.”
Pete’s hand trembled as he held the piece of paper.
“I have never cheated on you… To my mind, I have never cheated on you, but I have crossed lines, and there are things that are going to upset you and maybe change your mind about our relationship…”
“I won’t change my mind, Stitch! I love you!”
Stitch looked very firm and serious. “Pete Sweet, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and the last thing I want is to lose you. I want to grow old with you. My parents adore you. I can either keep fucking this up until I drive you away or I run away myself, or I can face this head-on and actually try for once.”
Henry looked so stripped bare, Pete wanted to wrap him up in a blanket and take him back to their flat, where the world generally made sense.
“You could never drive me away.”
“Then you at least need to know what you’re getting into,” Stitch said firmly.
Pete had expected Stitch’s parents to be hung up on Pete being a man, but they were warm and supportive. Edward was quiet, but he made small talk about the dogs and Pete’s cooking. Marie was also reserved, but compared to her husband, she was a chatterbox. They never talked about why they were there, but they often talked about Stitch. Pete ate up every story of Stitch’s youth and was thrilled when Marie produced a photo album. There was even a picture of Stitch and his lesbian “girlfriend.”
“Honestly,” Marie sighed, “the only thing they had in common was that they were both in total denial. It was sad, really.”
From Marie, Pete learned that Stitch has always been a “troubled soul” who took everything too hard.
“He was always so bright and handsome and so intelligent and so talented, but he never believed. Even as a little boy, he never believed he was good enough.”
Pete held Marie while she cried and Edward looked painfully uncomfortable.
xxx
When Pete and the Dulcys returned to the hospital, they were surprised to learn Henry had been transferred to the psychiatric ward. Pete was prepared for the worst, but he found Stitch looking downright cheerful in his hospital-issued bathrobe. He explained that he’d been transferred of his own accord.
“I need to get my head on straight,” Stitch explained as he twitched and shifted in his seat. “I’m too old for this bullsh- this nonsense. Sorry, Mum. I have committed to thirty days of sobriety and I’m going to give everything a chance and get better and… I’m so mortified. I feel like such a tit. Sorry, Mum.”
Henry’s father spoke for the first time. “Heroin? Why? I just can’t…”
“Edward!” Marie snapped. “We’re here to support Henry.”
“I don’t do heroin,” Stitch said firmly. He was less self-assured as he continued, “I do coke sometimes. The psychiatrist thinks I might have some sensory issues… The point is, I got some cocaine from Dave. Shit. Sorry, Mum.”
“I knew that boy was on something,” Edward said quietly. “That whole family was on something.”
“So don’t go telling everyone, but yes, Dave gave me some cocaine, and he warned me that it was really pure and to go easy, but then I heard Charles and I got anxious and I took too much…”
Marie scowled at the mention of Charles.
“Charles? That two-timing piece of you-know-what?”
Stitch gave a tight smile. “That Charles. Anyway, I was stupid and I don’t know if I was O.D.ing on the coke or just having a panic attack, but Charles shoved some heroin in my face and told me it would help, and then everything went black.”
“Why would you trust anything from him? You know he’s a liar and a creep,” Marie was clearly torn between wanting to be soothing and her loathing of Charles. “It could have been anything.”
“We’re sort of friends now,” Stitch explained, while staring anywhere but at the people in front of him. “Can I have a moment with Pete? Please?”
Xxx
Pete stared at a soothing mural on the wall as Stitch explained that, as far as his parents knew, the first time Charles had cheated on Henry was the end of their relationship.
“I don’t want them to know how pathetic I am,” Stitch said bluntly. “I’d prefer they stay in the dark on that one, if you don’t mind.”
Pete wondered if the soothing mural had been created for its purpose, or if someone had just seen it and thought it would be good for a psych ward.
“Do you mind?” Stitch asked quietly. “Because you can tell my parents the truth. Tell them anything you want. I’m in no position to ask you for favors.”
Pete shook his head. “I won’t tell them anything, Stitch.”
He wished he and Stitch could be alone, without any staff quietly observing them. He wanted to crawl into Stitch’s lap. He was too far away from Stitch to feel properly safe or secure.
“Please look at me, Pete.”
Pete wanted to look at Stitch; he just couldn’t seem to get his brain to calm down, no matter how hard he stared at the soothing image.
“When Charles first asked me out, I was so flattered. He was so far out of my league in every way and tried so hard to impress me back then. I wasn’t used to that much attention, so I fucked up and I was an arsehole, and then he found other people…”
Pete couldn’t look Stitch in the eye, but he reached out for one of his hands. Stitch had beautiful, long-fingered hands that made Pete’s look tiny and childish.
“Charles’s mate thinks you both like games.”
“What mate?”
Pete felt strangely guilty. If he’d gone looking for Stitch instead of dutifully living in denial, maybe things would have turned out differently. Maybe not. If Dave’s coke was too strong for Stitch, it would have knocked Pete on his ass. He still remembered the first time he’d tried poppers with Stitch. He’d been completely off his tits and terribly confused by how it had made him feel. He’d already had a crush on Stitch, but the poppers had made him want Stitch with a kind of desperation he had never felt before.
“Some bloke named Arthur.” Stitch frowned at the name, but Pete continued. “He bought me a beer and was kind of chatting me up, I guess.”
Stitch muttered “motherfucker” under his breath. Pete took it as a sign to continue.
“He said Charles was after you because he couldn’t control you, and…” He couldn’t repeat the hint that Charles and Stitch were still sleeping together, and there wasn’t much else to say.
“He must have sent Arthur to distract you,” Stitch mused. “But why? So he could give me heroin? It doesn’t make sense.”
“I think he just wanted to get you alone in the men’s room, Stitch. Pretty sure his creepy mate was the one watching us the last time we…” Pete glanced at the staff member who was trying very hard to pretend not to listen. He lowered his voice and continued, “I don’t know how much of this he planned or what he knew…”
That was the real question. There was only so much of the evening that Charles could have manipulated on his own. Had he seen Stitch and made a move, or had he come to the club knowing Stitch would be there? Maybe even that Dave would be there and holding.
Pete waited for Stitch to speak, but after what felt like a long silence, he finally looked directly at Stitch, who was staring off into space with a familiar but unreadable expression on his face.
“What is it, Stitch?”
“I told him where we were going to be. I didn’t even think about it. Charles doesn’t give a shit about me, but he would love to see me ruin what I have with you. It would make his day to see me fuck this up.”
“Pretty sure he does give a shit, Stitch.”
Pete looked into Stitch’s eyes and willed the older man to say something that would make everything okay.
“Have I fucked this up? I know I have, but… irreparably?” Stitch asked. He looked so painfully sad that Pete forgot about acting like a civilized adult and jumped into Stitch’s lap.
“I’m the poster boy for codependence,” Pete reminded him. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
Xxx
It was nice having Stitch’s folks around. Pete hadn’t seen his Mum since two Christmases earlier. She had married a philanthropist and they traveled the world, advocating for the downtrodden. Pete was proud of his mother and stepfather, but he envied Stitch having his parents so available. Pete was aware his birth had been an unexpected surprise that had taken his mother off track from her ambitions. Stitch, on the other hand, had been very much wanted. Marie said it had taken three years of trying to get Stitch. Pete found it fitting that, even before conception, Stitch had played hard to get. If Stitch were a manipulator like Charles, the world would surely be at his feet.
“You should open a restaurant,” Edward suggested after tasting Pete’s lemon pancakes with blueberry compote.
“My gram had a restaurant. It was really hard work.”
Pete had never had a father, but he recognized the intense “dadness” of his expression and tone as he spoke. “Never be afraid of hard work, son. Nothing worth having comes easy in this world.”
“Don’t lecture the boy,” Marie tsked. “He’s been through enough.”
“S’all right, Mrs. Dulcy. He’s right. I had to work hard to get Stitch.”
Marie’s eyes welled up and she gave Pete a tight hug before excusing herself. Alone with Stitch’s father, Pete wished he were up to date on some football scores. Henry wasn’t much of a fan, so Pete didn’t watch nearly as much sports as he used to. Stitch gamely watched any event Pete was excited about and he tried very hard to be interested. Overall, Pete preferred just snuggling up on the couch with Stitch while he watched his documentaries. It didn’t really matter what they were about; Stitch would watch them all, and Pete was learning a lot of strange things, like how to tickle a shark unconscious. It was part of how they mated. The male would knock the female out so she couldn’t run away and then mated with her. He’d made Stitch laugh by calling sharks the “Charles of the sea.”
“I hope my son appreciates you,” Edward said in an oddly formal tone.
Pete blushed from head to toe and mumbled, “He does.”
He knew Stitch appreciated him. No one had ever been so loving and attentive to Pete before.
“If he ever forgets, you let me know and I’ll have a talk with him.”
Pete wanted to cry, but he didn’t dare blubber in front of Stitch’s dad after the man had clearly put a lot of effort into expressing himself. Seeing how reserved his folks were, Pete had a whole new appreciation of Stitch.
“I’m the one who’s lucky, sir. Henry’s amazing.”
Edward gave a sad smile and said, “I don’t know why Henry was with this Charles person, after all he went through…”
“They’re just mates,” Pete interjected too quickly. “But I reckon Charles never really got over Stitch-I mean, Henry. That’s not Henry’s fault.”
Pete’s brain produced images of Stitch and Charles kissing and more than kissing in the men’s room, faster than Pete could push them away.
“I’m sure you have plenty of ex-boyfriends that Henry doesn’t want sniffing around. Don’t let him hedge his bets.”
“I ain’t got any ex-boyfriends. I have an ex-girlfriend that Stitch don’t like me talking to, but she’s pretty crazy and she just likes me as her gay best friend now, and there’s…”
Pete trailed off when he remembered Henry’s family knew all about Poppy. They (hopefully) didn’t know about Pete’s relationship with her, but they knew Dave’s eccentric family.
Edward looked surprised, and Pete wondered if he was surprised Stitch was dating a bisexual or if he was just really surprised Pete wasn’t the poofiest poofter to ever poof. Other than a few crushes, Pete had viewed himself as heterosexual until he’d met Henry, and yet everyone seemed to think he’d always really been gay. Henry said it was because people dismissed bisexuality, but Pete had a feeling that it also had to do with his general lack of manliness. It was funny, because Stitch was the least gay-seeming person Pete had ever met. Some days, Stitch didn’t even comb his hair. He just looked at it, shrugged, and went about his day as though nothing else could be done.
“Charles is bad for Henry. I’m scared Henry might go back to him.”
Pete wasn’t sure why he’d said it, but he felt lighter for saying it out loud.
Edward put a soothing hand on Pete’s shoulder and said, “I don’t know what is going on with my son right now, but I can promise you that he will always care more about breakfast than fancy suits and cars.”
Xxx
Pete fought the urge to shift about in his seat and tried to look like a proper adult in front of Stitch’s therapist. Stitch really admired her and thought she was extremely intelligent and insightful, which was odd because Henry generally though people were idiots. Stitch’s admiration for and faith in the therapist made Pete nervous. He wasn’t sure how well he was going to come across to a mental health professional. He might end up taking Stitch’s place.
“Henry is going to be released tomorrow,” she began, “and he wants to really start off on the right foot, especially with you. Is that correct, Henry?”
Stitch nodded, but avoided Pete’s eyes.
“What would you like to say to Pete?”
Stitch pulled out a handful of papers from the pocket of his dressing gown.
“Um… So, first off, sober for thirty days and taking an anti-depressant, and I have some anti-anxiety medications for emergencies. I won’t have enough to overdose with. Um… Then here is my plan for not being drunk or high all the time.”
He handed Pete a list written in Stitch’s meticulously neat and tiny handwriting. Stitch had created a detailed list of how often and when he would indulge in his various addictions. No drinking before 8pm, cocaine twice a year, poppers only when Pete wanted to use them, heroin with a big x through it.
“You are mental, Stitch,” Pete laughed, before remembering they were in fact in a psychiatric ward. “No, for real, I just mean… you know.”
Stitch smiled warmly and shrugged. “I need concrete limits. And that leads me to this.”
Henry handed Pete another piece of paper with the passwords to his ‘professional’ and personal e-mail accounts and the voicemail on his mobile.
“I don’t know what you heard, but I want you to know that I had no intention of seeing Charles that night, and what he said…”
“You don’t have to explain,” Pete said as a panic rose in his stomach.
“I’m a bit hazy, but what I remember is Charles being way too close and making me panic, and then I took the heroin and… I felt like my body was just shutting down. I don’t know what happened, but I was not an active participant.”
“Oh, Henry,” Pete sighed. He scooted his chair closer to Stitch and put his head on Stitch’s shoulder.
“I wasn’t looking for anything with Charles… but I realize that I put those wheels in motion by keeping contact with him.”
“I’m going to rip his eyeballs out so he can see what at arsehole he is.”
Stitch gave a weak smile. “I want you to look at everything. I don’t want any more secrets, not about Charles. Read every e-mail, listen to the voicemails, you can go through my mobile and read the texts. I want you to know the truth.”
“I don’t want to read your e-mails…”
“I want you to. I want you to know everything, so you can decide how you want to move forward.”
Pete’s hand trembled as he held the piece of paper.
“I have never cheated on you… To my mind, I have never cheated on you, but I have crossed lines, and there are things that are going to upset you and maybe change your mind about our relationship…”
“I won’t change my mind, Stitch! I love you!”
Stitch looked very firm and serious. “Pete Sweet, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and the last thing I want is to lose you. I want to grow old with you. My parents adore you. I can either keep fucking this up until I drive you away or I run away myself, or I can face this head-on and actually try for once.”
Henry looked so stripped bare, Pete wanted to wrap him up in a blanket and take him back to their flat, where the world generally made sense.
“You could never drive me away.”
“Then you at least need to know what you’re getting into,” Stitch said firmly.