Page 53 of Learning to Trust

“Can I call you again so I can let Andrew know you’re okay?”

“I’d rather you didn’t. I’ll be back in a few weeks and probably be putting my house on the market, so Andrew won’t have to worry about me being next door. Please tell him I wish him the best with Peter.”

"David, he's not with—"

I hung up the phone before Kyle could say anything more. I couldn’t help wondering what he’d started to say, but it was probably a lie on Andrew’s behalf.

My decision was made, the house would go up for sale. It was for the best, the place held nothing but bad memories. When I returned to New York, I'd put everything in storage and stay in a hotel while I searched for a place to purchase. The less chance of encountering Andrew, the better.

Chapter Sixteen

ANDREW

Five weeks. Five fucking weeks David had been gone and not one word. Peter had turned my fucking life upside down.

I’d made it clear, in no uncertain terms, following what I referred to as ‘the incident,’ that I hadn’t wanted Peter anywhere near me again. He’d treated my words with disdain and had repeatedly called and dropped by in the hopes I would speak with him. I’d come home from work at all hours to find him sitting on my front steps. The man just couldn’t take a hint.

The security camera had captured enough footage and recorded enough of our volatile conversations to convince a judge on Christmas Eve that a restraining order was warranted. What I hadn't understood was, why, after so many years had Peter began stalking me and refusing to accept I had no interest in us being together? Peter had finally explained that seeing me with David had made him jealous and he wanted me back.

Try as I might, there was no convincing him that I wasn't interested. He taunted me with the fact that he knew David was gone, but still wouldn't accept, that even if David stayed away, I would not take Peter back into my life. When I found him attempting to break into my home via a back window at two in the morning, I hadn't attempted to reason with him, instead, the police had been called and they had handled the matter.

Peter was arrested and transferred to a mental health facility when his manic raving had become uncontrollable. Shortly after—Leon, who was a close friend of Angus, informed me that Peter had been diagnosed with Bipolar disease and was being managed in a private facility chosen by his father. My heart went out to his family as Peter had always been polite, mild-mannered, and the change in him was extraordinary. The family hoped, with appropriate care, he would return to the man he'd once been.

Five days later, Angus had visited Peter and called off their engagement. A somewhat callous move—the bastard. Later that same day, Peter had gotten hold of a butcher's knife from the kitchen and stabbed himself. The blade had pierced the heart and he'd died instantly. I'd shed a few tears of grief for the man I'd once known. He'd been dealt a shitty hand and maybe in death, he would find the peace he'd been unable to find in life.

I had attended the funeral and his father had apologized for his son's behavior. I assured him that all was forgiven, and that Peter's behavior hadn't been his fault. We'd hugged, his son had been laid to rest and we went back to our lives.

I wanted so badly to speak with David, and as time passed, my anger with him grew. Why hadn’t he trusted me enough to talk? I knew how he’d been treated in the past, did he really believe I was the kind of man who would treat him in the same way?

I wasn't sleeping, or eating properly, and had no interest in anyone or anything. I couldn't move forward while things between David and me stayed unresolved. My friends were doing their best to help and I was grateful that David had spoken with Kyle. Janice spoke to me regularly, telling me not to give up on her brother. She had only heard from David twice—once when he'd arrived in London and again on Christmas Day. He hadn't called on New Year's and his sister hadn't been happy about the oversight. I was like an automaton, going through each day on autopilot.

My cell rang and I was tempted to send the call to voicemail but then Janice’s name flashed on the screen.

“Janice, have you heard from David?”

“He’s coming home, Andrew.”

“Thank fuck.”

“He’s talking about selling his home and moving to London permanently.”

I stood from where I'd been seated on the couch, paced the living room, and dragged fingers through my hair.

“We can’t let him do that, Janice.”

“I have a plan.”

“I’m all ears.”

"David arrives at 9.20 AM tomorrow. Since I picked his car up from the airport after he left, I agreed to be there when he arrives. He said he'll come home, pack a few things and stay in a hotel while he purchases another home. When we get to his place, I'll leave the front door unlocked so come straight inside. This will probably be your only chance to speak with him, Andrew. Hogtie him if necessary, whatever it takes to make him listen."

“Why are you helping me?”

“Because I’ve never seen David so happy as he was when you were together. I believe you two are meant to be a couple.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”