“What have I done,” he said to himself, looking almost seasick.
He shot to his feet, pacing and fretting, and I let him, because anything I said might sound patronizing or pitying, and I didn’t want him to feel either one. He pulled out his silver cigarette case as he walked and idly flipped it open, then clicked it shut, over and over, before frowning sadly at it and tucking it away again. I simply waited.
Freddie paused near the window and fiddled with the shade. “Are those photographers out there?”
“Probably. There usually are a few, since the Lacey thing.”
He peered through the glass. “Wait, no, one of your neighbors is having a party. Maybe I should go. Might meet someone.”
He laughed mirthlessly and then let go of the shade. It snapped back just a bit askew, a metaphor if ever there was one.
“I did five engagements in the last two weeks, and I still heard Father grumbling to himself about when the first-string is coming back,” he said, bitterness seeping into his tone.
“I know how much you hate the way Richard talks down to you,” I said softly. “It’s unfair. You don’t deserve it.”
“He and Gran only see me as the Ginger Gigolo, or whatever the news used to call it,” Freddie said, kicking stubbornly at the carpet. “And I’ve been playing at that for so long that sometimes I forget it started out as an act. Even Lacey looks at me like a person with potential, who just needs a spot of repairs.” He exhaled hard. “But you treat me like who I am is enough. Like you already see in me something nobody else has bothered to look for. That’s important to me.”
“Well, you are important to me,” I told him.
“You sounded so broken tonight,” he said. “Talking about running, and feeling erased. Thinking no one really ever sees you. Things I’ve said to myself a hundred times.” He bit his lip. “For a second, the answer just seemed so simple. For both of us.”
“It wouldn’t be simple. It would be worse,” I said. “You would never forgive yourself, and neither would I. We can’t scorch the earth forever just because we’re unhappy now.”
Freddie blew out his cheeks and came around and sat next to me on the bed. “I know,” he said. “I think I knew it before I even said it. I shouldn’t have said it. Any of this.” He scratched the back of his head in frustration. “I just thought…I felt something, and maybe you did, too, and this was the last chance to save both of us. And instead I’ve mucked up heroically. God, Bea told me to fix things and I’ve only made them worse.”
“Well, I helped,” I said. “I’m good at that.”
“The worst of it is, somewhere in here I think I realized you’re one of my best friends,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “Unfortunately it was after that bit with all the kissing.”
That sat between us for a second.
“Are you going to tell him?” he asked plainly.
“I should,” I said. “He deserves the truth.”
“I won’t ask you to keep this secret,” he said. “Not again, not when you’re getting married and it matters. But part of me thinks it doesn’t matter. Nothing much happened. Nothing is changing.” He looked so sad. “I don’t want to break his heart for nothing. Does that make me a coward?”
“No,” I said. “It makes you his brother.”
Our eyes met, and we nodded slowly, as if a decision had silently been made. Then Freddie looked at his watch. “It’s an appalling hour of the morning,” he said. “And I’m not sure how to take my leave after all of this. Bye, thanks for listening, sorry about the tongue??”
“How about just, See you later, Killer,” I offered.
“I know this is strange to say, after what I did,” he said as he stood. “But I’m glad you truly do love him.”
“Did you ever doubt it?”
“Did you?”
“No,” I said.
“Neither did I,” he said. Then his old mischievous gleam surfaced. “Well, maybe for ten very specific seconds.”
I socked him in the arm. He took it as it was intended.
“And how about you talk to someone properly next time,” he said. “I know Marj and Barnes and Prince Dick are always railing about whatever you’ve done wrong, but there are plenty of people who like you just as you are. You should remember that when you start feeling like you’re being erased.”
“I could say exactly the same to you,” I told him.
Freddie gave me a lovely smile. “You know, I spent the last year telling myself I hadn’t got the girl, but I think I was wrong. In the way I was meant to, perhaps I’ve had her all along.”
My phone pierced the moment. I frowned at the jumble of numbers on the home screen, and got a prickly feeling in my chest.
“Bex? Thank God I caught you. I was sure you’d be passed out by now.”
“Nick!” I gasped, glancing up at Freddie.
“I think that’s my cue,” Freddie said. I watched him disappear, and in the split second that I processed the melancholic end of whatever this night had been, the scale tipped back in the other direction with a heady rush.
“Bex? Are you there?” Nick asked. “Our bloody email is on the fritz. I’ve been stewing for weeks until I pulled rank and made them give me a phone.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked, sensing urgency.
“It’s about your citizenship,” Nick said. “Did I get to you in time? Don’t do it. Don’t give it up.”
My eyes fell on my coat, crumpled on the floor, my flag pin there on the lapel. “I can’t believe your timing,” I choked out. “I haven’t done it. Not yet. I—”
“It isn’t coming from me. And I’m furious with Gran for pulling that stunt while I’m gone,” he said. “Rip up those papers and let her take it up with me on January third.”
“Is she right, though?” I asked. “Nick, please be honest about that much. Don’t tell me it’s up to me and then have it turn out that it really wasn’t.”
“There’s no moral superiority in citizenship. I didn’t care that you were an American when I fell in love with you, and the Commonwealth won’t care when it falls in love with you, either,” he said. “If that’s idealistic of me, then so be it.”
“Wait. Did you say January third?” I asked. “That sounds almost soon.”
“Twenty-one days,” he said, and I heard a huskiness in his voice. “Bex, please use this against me for the rest of our lives as an example of how I am about as clever as a shed. It was too long to be gone, and at the worst possible time.”
I closed my eyes. “I love you,” I said. “I have never meant it more in my life.”
“You know, nobody told me how long I could stay on this phone,” he said. “We can talk until it dies, and Miss Porter, it is fully charged.”
“That might be the sexiest thing you have ever said to me.”