Page 16 of Tears of Gold
“It’s fine.”
Uncomfortable silence settles like a shroud over us all.
This is ridiculous. It reminds me of Al's funeral and all those people standing in his front room waiting for him to arrive and lead the way to the funeral. It’s like time doesn’t exist; that it’s particles of reality that no longer fit together.
I can’t stand it.
“So, I’m Eli’s fiancée,” I stumble to fill the void. “And we didn’t know about you. I’m sorry, it sounds awful saying it out loud, but it seems Peter has been keeping secrets.”
Jeremy’s red eyes flash. “Because he had to.”
“How long have you been married?” I glance into the lounge. It's nothing like Thirty-Six Chesham. A faded and worn cream sofa is covered in throws and cushions. The walls are pale, lined with paintings and sketches, and there are mugs and paperwork stacked everywhere.
“Three years.”
My eyes flit over Eli, who is turning a hazy shade of green like grass drying under an August sun.
“Three years?” It’s Eli who speaks. “How has he never told me? He lived here with you and I never knew.”
Snapping to action, Jeremy beckons us into the lounge and motions for us to perch on the sofa. We sink down onto the soft cushions while he straightens some paper on a coffee table.
“Believe me.” Jeremy pushes his glasses back up his nose as he glances at Eli. “I wanted him to tell you. He talked about you all the time. Back in the beginning, I resented the fact he didn’t introduce us. But I guess eventually it just became the norm.”
“You and Peter were married?” For a man as clever as Eli, he’s having real issues getting this piece of information to sink in. Who can blame him? It’s like yesterday we woke on the sofa in the Kensington Mews in an alternate reality.
“Yes.” Jeremy sighs and sits on an armchair, lifting a jumper from its cushion and placing it on his lap, fiddling with the material.
“Three years? I can’t believe this.”
I put my hand on Eli’s knee. Getting angry isn’t going to help anyone really. Peter is gone and with him so are his explanations.
“What happened to both your faces?” Jeremy blinks at us with interest from behind his lenses.
“Nothing.” Eli straightens up and I sigh.
“We had our arses handed to us by an evil bastard who’s hopefully been arrested,” I fill in. What’s the point in lying? This guy is family. Peter’s family. He flickers a smile but it last about three seconds.
“Peter said you made things fun.”
I shake my head slightly. “I had lunch with Peter just the other day, it hurts a little he didn’t mention you.”
Elijah pales even further and I squeeze his hand tight.
“It’s the agreement that was made.” Jeremy shrugs but it seems to take all the energy from him, and he slumps back in his chair, still holding the jumper.
“We want to invite his friends to the funeral? Are you a banker, too? I’m guessing you have a circle of friends here?” I’m kind of clutching at straws but someone has got to lead this, and Eli has just utterly shut down.
“God no, I’m a teacher. I teach maths in a high school.”
“He wanted to be a teacher,” Eli says, his voice distant like he’s chasing down memories.
Jeremy meets his gaze and the two men watch one another. “I know. He wanted to teach history.”
His words unravel something within Eli because in the next moment his head drops into his hands and his shoulders wrack with heavy sobs.
And my heart, so battered and bruised, delicately strung together with whispered promises and diamonds and gold, aches with such severity I clutch my chest tight to keep myself together.
My phone rings with the unmistakable sound of an incoming videocall and we all jolt. “Sorry.” Bollocks, I forgot to switch it off. I fish around in my bag trying to find it while Eli continues to cry next to me with his head in his hands. Finally, I grasp my fingers around it and manage to silence Abi’s FaceTime call. It hits me with a thunderclap of awareness that I haven’t told anyone what’s happened. The last Abi knew, I was on my train back to London to fight for Elijah. She doesn’t know I’m engaged, or that Peter is dead.
