Page 56 of Familiar Things New

Chapter Fifteen

Edwin

Regret sat heavy in Edwin’s chest as he descended the stairs of the Whitney mansion. In just a half hour or so, he’d be expected to eat with William’s extended family, as well as William and Andrew. Despite the fact that Edwin had only managed to eat three or four bites of the food Andrew had brought him the previous evening, he still wasn’t the least bit hungry. Even the mere thought of food was making his stomach roil.

He’d bungled things with Andrew. He’d made a fool of himself in front of William, too. And he was still irritated over the whole Amelia Bidwell of it all as well. Edwin heaved a sigh as he paused at the bottom of the stairs. This was precisely why he kept to himself. One party and he had gone and complicated everything. Or, well, perhaps William was at least partially responsible for some of the complications. But still.

Edwin had to fix things. With Andrew, at least.

Slowly, Edwin made his way to the room where Andrew had taken people’s photographs before the ball, figuring he’d see Andrew there either right then or later. After all, the man had to clean up his things before they headed back to Albany.

When Edwin reached the room, he paused and hovered near the entryway. Only seconds later, Andrew emerged from the makeshift darkroom. Edwin’s chest pinched when they locked eyes, the heaviness he still felt worsening with the resultant pain.

He swallowed thickly.

“Good morning, Andrew,” he said, his voice tight and barely above a whisper. “I think maybe we should talk. About last night.” He let out a breath. “I know you’re probably angry at me for being so terse with you. Maybe you even hate me a little. But—”

“Hate you?! How could I ever hate you?”

“Because I was rude to you.” Edwin’s frown deepened. “Incredibly rude.”

“I’m sure you had your reasons.”

Edwin only looked away.

The sound of Andrew’s shoes shuffling across the floor reached Edwin’s ears, followed by a quiet whimper. Edwin looked back up to see Andrew cringing and noticed that the man was leaning to the side, putting most of his weight on only one of his legs.

Mustering his courage, he walked over to Andrew instead.

“I really am sorry,” Edwin said softly as he approached.

“Did I . . . ruin things between us somehow?” Andrew asked.

“No,” Edwin replied with a shake of his head. “I just . . . made a mistake.” Andrew’s eyebrows pinched. Edwin sighed. “I made a mistake when William brought Miss Bidwell over to meet us. It was a small one. One that will probably seem silly, even. But it mattered to me then. And even now, a little. I was a bit inebriated, and as a result, I wasn’t thinking clearly when I made the error. Anyway, that’s why I left the party so abruptly. It had nothing to do with you.”

Questioningly, Andrew tilted his head. “Mistake? What mistake?”

“I offered my hand for Miss Bidwell to shake when I shouldn’t have. Actually, I thrust it at her. Rudely, I might add. I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”

“Oh.” Andrew’s forehead wrinkled, his eyebrows pinching. “Now that you mention it, I do remember that happening. But, as you can probably guess, I’ve made plenty of those kinds of mistakes myself when welcoming clients into my studio. Clients who care about those sorts of things, especially. I seem to become extra flustered around clientele who have even half as much money as the Whitneys.” Pausing, Andrew shook his head in clear befuddlement. “Why were you so upset, though? You’re allowed to make mistakes, Edwin. Everyone is.”

“I know that. In theory, I know that. But it’s hard for me not to be critical of myself.” Edwin pushed a hand through his hair. “It’s not easy for me to explain, but for a long time, I felt like I was performing a specific role, one that was compulsory, even if I didn’t feel right for it. And my performance was . . . poor. Whenever I spent time with other people, I found myself becoming uneasy. And I’d become extra aware of . . . everything. It was like I was afraid that people might notice how uncomfortable I was with . . . well, with myself. Funnily though, my insecurity probably contributed to my poor performances. And now, even though some things have changed, those feelings never went away. Which is why I tend to keep to myself. Yes, I’m shy, but it’s . . . oh, Andrew, it’s more complicated than that.”

“I-I’m not sure what to say. I had no idea. I wouldn’t have come to pester you last night had I known how rattled you felt.”

“Don’t be sorry, Andrew. Please.” Edwin walked forward, closing the gap between them, and looked at Andrew with pleading eyes. “How I behaved and how flustered I was when you came to visit me, I promise neither was because of you. And I’m the one who should be sorry for being so cold to you. I am sorry for that, actually. And I hope you can forgive me.”

Andrew smiled warmly. “Of course I can. But there’s really nothing to forgive.”

Edwin smiled back. Andrew placed a gentle hand on Edwin’s shoulder, and Edwin’s heart stuttered from the sudden contact. After just a second or two, Andrew removed it, and Edwin was left with a sudden emptiness he hadn’t ever experienced before.

Jesus, how fervently he wished he and Andrew could keep being close like that. Or closer, even. Much, much closer.

But that was a foolish thing to wish for.

Pushing the thought away, Edwin decided to change the subject of conversation.

“How’s your knee?” he asked.