Chapter 19
I FOUND Declan in the garden in the middle of the St Vincent’s Hospital complex. He was in a secluded corner, mostly hidden away by hedges and large trees, sitting on a wooden bench and staring dully ahead of him.
I wanted to hold him, but we weren’t in a private enough space. Declan put an end to any internal rationalisations I was having though as he saw me and jumped up, pulling me into him. I wrapped my arms around him, and he burrowed his head into my shoulder. I could feel him shake slightly as he tried to control his breathing, but the tears took over and all I could do was stand there and let him cry. When he finally calmed a little, I manoeuvred him over to the bench and sat beside him.
“Are you okay?” I asked stupidly.
He tried to smile at me, but failed. “Better now you’re here.”
“Is there an update on your dad?”
“He’s still in surgery.”
“Christ, Dec, what happened?”
He took a deep shaky breath. “I was at the airport, waiting for the rest of the team to arrive when my sister called me. I jumped into a taxi and got here as the ambulance was bringing him in. Apparently he just keeled over at home, right in the hallway—”
He broke off and wiped his hand across his eyes.
I looked around to see if there was anybody in the vicinity, then inwardly berated myself for doing so. If a guy couldn’t comfort another visibly distressed guy in the grounds of a hospital, then when would it be okay? I put my arm around his shoulders, and he leaned in to me.
“I’m so pissed at myself,” he said suddenly.
“Why?”
“Because I was up there with my family, and we’re all stressed and crying, and whenever I managed to stop thinking about Dad for one second, all I wanted was to see you.”
“You can’t be pissed off with yourself for that,” I told him.
“Why not? I should be thinking of my dad,” he argued.
“Because we’re human. And when we’re upset we want comforting. So we turn to the person we want for that comfort.”
He didn’t answer.
“Are they all still upstairs?”
“Yeah, my mum told me to go and get some air and walk it off. I think I was driving her crazy.”
“Do you want to go back up there?”
He looked at me. “But I just dragged you all the way out here—”
“Like I care. And like I wouldn’t want to be here to help you.” I rubbed his arm in what I hoped was a comforting gesture. “Besides, I’ll stay here. And if you need to, you can come down again and talk to me.”
“What, you’ll stay out here?”
“All night, if I have to,” I replied honestly. I would have done anything to help him feel the least bit better; besides, he called me to come to him, not Abe, not Lisa.
“And you wonder why I—” He stopped and looked away.
“What?”
He changed track awkwardly. “One other thing I was thinking about when I should have been thinking about my father… I thought, what if that had been me in his place? All I would want is you to be there, but you wouldn’t be, because my family doesn’t even know about you.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. And that’s not fair, Simon. It’s not fair to you or to me.”
A tiny rivulet of sweat caused by fear ran down my neck. This was sounding dangerously close to a breakup speech. “You already have enough on your mind, Dec. Don’t start worrying about stuff that hasn’t even happened.”
“I bet my father didn’t think his Sunday afternoon included a heart attack,” Declan said bitterly.
“Probably not. But still—”
“I’m in hospital next month, Simon. If we go on like this, the best you can probably do is come in as a ‘friend’ of Abe and Lisa’s without incurring too many questions from my family. That’s not good enough.”
“And we’ll worry about that when the time comes. You have to concentrate on your dad—”
He cut me off by kissing me, hungrily and desperately. His breathing was laboured, and his cheek was wet against mine. His lips stopped working and rested upon my own, but he remained locked in position, not wanting to let go. I traced along his jaw with the edge of my knuckle, gently, not shying away from his intense stare.
And even though it was probably the worst moment to do so, the words came rushing out of me which should have weeks ago, because I knew how fucking true they were. “I love you.”
He pulled back, his eyes wide. “What?”
“I know this isn’t the time to say it—” I started feebly.
“Say it again.”
I looked at him steadily, without hesitation. “I love you.”
Declan laughed and, if I was reading him right, looked relieved. “You don’t know how many times I’ve been hoping to hear you say that.”
I couldn’t believe it had been so difficult to say, but now all I wanted was to hear it from him.
He didn’t keep me in suspense. “I love you too. But you already knew that.”
“It’s not that I didn’t back then, it was just—”
He kissed me. “I know.”
“You should really go up and check on your family,” I said, although there was a selfish part of me that wanted to keep him down here after such a huge moment between us.
“Yeah, I should.” He kissed me again and then stood. “I hate to send you away, but go home.”
“I want to be here for you,” I told him.
“Thank you. But you’ve already done it, more than you think.”
Looking at how much calmer he appeared now than he had five minutes ago, I had to accept that. “You’ll call, right?”
He nodded. We kissed once more, and I hated letting him go.
I watched him walk away with his hands jammed in his pockets. I became aware that our little corner of the garden was not as concealed as I had first thought, but the space was empty and night had fallen while we were talking. I stared at the tall building above me; all the lighted windows of rooms in which miracles and tragedies were currently taking place, and hoped that for Declan’s father, it would be the former.
I’m not sure how long I sat there, but a teenager walking past me jolted me out of my daydream. He scowled at me, and I scowled back, wondering what his problem was; but inwardly berated myself because he probably had his own drama to deal with in being here. I reluctantly stood, and headed for the car park.
BACK home I was restless and anxious, wondering how Declan, his father, and his family were. It felt strange to have so much emotion invested in a man who didn’t even know I existed, and although I knew it was because my ties were to Declan’s well-being more than anything else, I still hoped they were all coping.
I ended up falling asleep on the couch and was woken by a text message coming through.
Dad conscious. Still waiting to hear from doctors.
That was good, at least. I sent back a quick reply and set my mobile’s alarm to wake me in the morning. I couldn’t be bothered getting up and going to bed.
When the alarm started sounding, I got up as if in a daze, fed Maggie, had a shower, and stumbled out the door. I tried to read the paper on the tram but couldn’t concentrate. Just as I made it through the doors at work a new message came in from Declan.
Didn’t want to wake you. Dad is pretty out of it, but docs say more of a warning than anything else. Keeping him in for obs for a few days. Staying at mum’s as she needs us, but will call you.
So, what a difference a night makes. Declan had thought his world was crashing around him only twelve hours ago, and now things were looking up again. Despite sleeping badly, I also felt reenergised and surprised Nyssa with a cheerfulness that was hardly ever my habit on a Monday morning.
It wasn’t to last.
At about two in the afternoon, Nyssa came into the office with a bewildered expression. She had the PM edition of the Herald Sun in her hand.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I think the secret you’ve been keeping has just come out,” she murmured. “No pun intended.”
She laid the newspaper before me, and I felt my stomach drop when I saw the headline.
AFL STAR IN SECRET GAY SHOCKER!
And there, plastered to the left of the sea of print was a box in which a series of photos of Declan and I in the gardens of St. Vincent’s Hospital appeared. They hadn’t left anything to the imagination—one of us hugging, one of us kissing, and finally one of me sitting on the bench alone.
“So what’s the story?” Nyssa asked.
I couldn’t move; I was rooted to the spot with a sense of dread. “Looks like they’ve already got it.”