Page 46 of Topped

Rupert

The longer I tried to ignore it, the more aware I was becoming that something was wrong with me.

I still had no idea what it was, though. Every time I tried to look directly at it, my feelings became clouded and I couldn’t focus, my brain redirecting me to a new topic or a different issue, like I was a cat it could distract with a laser pointer. It was starting to frustrate the fuck out of me, and I didn’t know what was going on.

I’d tried to become more self-aware of my emotions in the last few years, thanks to therapy, but it was hard to be self-aware when the feelings were hiding from me.

Vaguely, I suspected it was something to do with Milo and our not-relationship. But that was as far as I’d gotten. At some point it would probably all burst out of me, ugly, raw, and unfiltered, and then I’d ruin everything.

That knowledge wasn’t helping. In fact, it was making me feel worse, but I didn’t know how to deal with it.

“Rupert, darling, I can hear you thinking from here,” Norman said, curling some ribbon attached to a gift box he’d been packing. “You’ve been sighing and stomping around all week. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, sorry.”

“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

“I’m not lying.”

“And my favourite waistcoat is yellow,” Norman said with a pointed look. I sighed and slid the tub of bonbons I’d been refilling back onto the shelf.

“Fine, there is something wrong, but I don’t know what it is. And every time I try to figure it out, I can’t and it’s making me feel worse.” I was aware I sounded sulky and petulant, but my frustration was really starting to get the better of me.

“Ah, one of those situations,” Norman said. “They are always very vexing. Would you like to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“How about you talk at me about it? Sometimes that can help I find. Monologuing is an excellent tool to get to the heart of a situation, both in plays and in reality.”

I chewed my lip as I thought about his proposal. On the one hand, what he was suggesting made sense. But on the other, what if I talked it out with him and didn’t like the outcome? Or what if he judged me for the things I said? I couldn’t bear it if I said something weird or rude—anything that would make Norman think badly of me.

“If you’re thinking I’m going to judge you, then yes, I might. But I can promise you I won’t hold anything against you,” Norman said with a fond smile. “Anyway, I can guarantee you I have said, thought, and done worse than you. As Sidney will tell you, I am a bitchy, petty, vindictive queen, and always have been. It’s my best and worst feature.”

“At least you’re honest about it,” I said, not sure if Norman’s words were making me feel better or not.

“Of course, darling. And I can promise I’ll always be honest with you too. We’re good friends, which means you’ll always know where we stand. If we weren’t, I wouldn’t tell you what I thought.”

I chuckled. “If that’s what you’re like as a friend, I’d dread to have you as my enemy.”

“Oh you wouldn’t even know.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Remember, you should always keep your enemies close and deal out revenge in small doses. Like telling them something is flattering when it’s not.”

“I’m not sure I’d have coped knowing you when you were younger,” I said. “You must have been vicious.”

“I was, but only to those I didn’t like. And Sidney when he deserves it. Don’t worry, he gives it all straight back.” He put the scissors down and looked at his finished gift box. It really did look very pretty. It was why I tried to leave all the packing to him.

“Now,” he continued. “Are you going to tell me or do I have to force it out of you?”

“Fine, but I can’t promise anything I say will be rational.”

“The only rational people in the world are serial killers, Rupert, and I highly doubt you’re one of those. If you are, I shall require more bribery to hide your true nature from the police. Cash only, please. Then I’m less likely to get caught.”

I snorted. “Thanks?”

“You’re welcome.” He waved his hand at me to continue talking as he reached for an empty box to start packing another gift basket. In the next few weeks we’d have to start packing for Christmas, and that would be chaos. Perhaps I’d ask Milo to come in and give us a hand so Norman didn’t murder me when I started to panic and overthink everything.