Nymphaea

Chapter 40: Loss

Something warm and soft settled on his hand. Ayve looked up, into the gentle face of his bond-mate, whose fingers closed around his lovingly.

“You seem distracted today. Is anything wrong with you?” she asked concernedly.

Ayve squeezed her hand in assurance. I’m fine; it’s nothing you need to worry about.

“Well, in that case,” she answered, a superior smile gracing her features, “kindly tell me your opinion.”

Ayve turned to Pheus, a questioning look upon his face.

“We were just discussing the possibility of Alannah stepping back into her old profession after the survey has been conducted. I told her I could easily obtain legal papers that would enable her to do so.”

“I would so love to make music again; to work with an orchestra or something,” Alannah joined in enthusiastically.

Ayve smiled. I would love to hear you play. He brushed a strand out of Alannah’s face.

She held his gaze and asked then offhandedly, “What would you rather have, a boy or a girl?”

Ayve looked down on their hands and caressed hers with his thumb. His eyes were glazed; he was contemplating the question. Slowly shaking his head, Ayve looked up again. I really don’t care. I’ll look forward to being a father no matter what.

Alannah’s face lightened up and she bent forward to kiss him.

Have you told your parents yet? Ayve asked when his lips were his own again.

“Yes, I called them yesterday. They’re excited about it!”

Ayve smiled mildly.

A service employee came to clear the breakfast table. He also delivered a letter.

“Who’s that from?” Alannah asked.

Ayve opened it unhurriedly. He skimmed the page, folded it again and put it away.

Just business correspondence.

When Alannah was gone to have her second round of job interviews, Ayve bent forward, one hand, clenched to a fist, resting on his stomach, the other holding his head. His hair was falling down like a curtain to shield his face.

“You think he is going to leave you,” Pheus stated the obvious.

Ayve nodded.

“You are not intending to do something about it?”

Ayve glanced up. What am I supposed to do about it? He’s right thinking I cannot give him what he wants. For such a thing I would have to be free, and I am not.

Ayve got up and shuffled over to his bed, where he curled up and wrapped the blanket around himself.

Pheus shut his eyes and inhaled deeply to calm down the small storm of feelings that had been set loose by Ayve’s confession. He felt the urge to join Ayve under his cover, to demonstrate which man was not going to leave him, no matter how many times Ayve pushed him away. Yet, despite Ayve having pulled down a lot of the barriers that had built up inside him and had kept Pheus at bay, he was not ready for something like that. Sometimes, Pheus asked himself if Ayve was ever going to be ready and willing to welcome him back as a lover.

Pheus knew that the light, the passion, the energy in Ayve was dimmed. Ayve was flattered when someone else showed a strong feeling for him, it attracted him. That undoubtedly was why he had finally given in to the advances of blondie; that was what had made it at least easier for him to like Alannah as much as he did. However, Ayve had spent so much time reining in his feelings because they would have overwhelmed him otherwise that by now they had lost much of their intensity forever. It was easy for Ayve to deny or even not be aware of his own needs. The one need that still burned in him, the one thing he desired, was that child Alannah was carrying. And the mother to it. Ayve wanted a family with more determination than anything else. He was rather going to let his little lover leave than risk losing Alannah – that was remarkable.

It also showed Pheus that his own chances were still low. Perhaps he would have to settle for friendship. Pheus did not like that idea, yet it was more than had seemed possible a few years ago. By all rights, he should send this ‘Stephen’ a thank you card for opening Ayve up, for giving him new confidence in his ability to cope with his feelings, to enjoy closer relationships.

*

Stephen walked in thoughts through the town. It was two days before the weekend, when his trip with Lissy would start. He’d left Ayve a note, saying things couldn’t go on like this, that he needed time and hoped Ayve might sort out the mess in his life in the meantime and that he would be available at home for about another week, before he had flown home a few days ago.

Stephen had not heard from Ayve since. He had hoped for a call or at least an e-mail with an apology, a promise that Ayve would take things into his hands now. There had been none.

Secretly, Stephen still prayed Ayve just wanted to give him the time he had indirectly asked for and was meanwhile indeed doing what Stephen had demanded of him. Looking at it realistically, though, Stephen knew this would not happen. If Ayve intended to tell Alannah about them in the next days, he would have told Stephen right away to raise his spirits.

The now thirty-three years old man who hadn’t even been congratulated by his lover on his birthday in January, knew deep down inside what would be the right decision in such a situation. Still, he could not bring himself to make it – yet.

He had another two weeks’ time to ponder about this undisturbed.

*
*two weeks pass by*
*

Stephen’s feet were heavy with apprehension. Cold sweat ran down his back and his heart beat mercilessly. The nausea in his stomach was at best a nuisance. He did not want to be here, or rather, he wanted to be here but he did not want to do this. However, he had made up his mind – Stephen was fed up with waiting. It was going to hurt, perhaps even hurt him more than Ayve, after all he had gone through to make their relationship work, but what Ayve had finally come to offer him, to be one of many instead of the one and only – Stephen couldn’t do that.

When he knocked on the door to Ayve’s room, he had to control his breathing to keep himself from passing out in panic. An unfamiliar voice told him to enter. He frowned, not wanting any bystanders in the room when he talked to Ayve, and opened the door. To his bewilderment, there was a stranger lying in the bed, a nurse just handing medicine to him. Had he been mistaken in the room number?

“I’m sorry, I thought someone else was occupying the room,” Stephen said and turned to leave, but he changed his mind halfway and faced the nurse. “When last I was here, someone else was in this room, Ayve. Has he left already?”

The nurse eyed Stephen, probably determining whether he had the right to be informed or not. “The patient has been relocated to a room in the main building. Please ask the lady at the reception for further information.”

Stephen thanked her and shut the door.

Entering the corridor in which Ayve was supposed have his room now, Stephen wondered what was up. This looked a lot more like a floor in a hospital than what he had seen here so far. To his further dismay, the space before Ayve’s room was pretty crowded. Sitting on the window sill at the end of the corridor was his oh-so-beloved Pheus, leaning a few metres apart from the man on the wall was a woman Stephen dimly recognised as Ayve’s half-sister, Ley.

She pushed herself off the wall and approached Stephen. In that moment, Pheus also rose but headed to the door to his right, from which a heavy coughing emanated. Just as the man had reached it, it was opened and he was ushered inside.

Stephen wanted to see what was going on, but Ley held him back. “Don’t bother Ayve now.”

Stephen frowned. “Bother?”

Pheus’ dark voice could be heard, easily audible over the feeble rattling that Stephen guessed was Ayve’s breath. “Calm, down Ayve.” The rattling went on. “I’ll tell her parents. Don’t agonise about this.” It seemed that Pheus was answering to something Ayve had said in his mental voice. The sounds did not improve. “Fine, if you want to do it yourself, I’ll accompany you, but calm – down – now, Ayve. You won’t be able to comfort them in this state. Calm down.” Stephen would have found this voice very soothing indeed, in the patient yet insistent manner it was used, had it come from a different person. The noisy breathing slowed down hesitantly.

The door was opened as a nurse came out and Stephen could catch a glimpse before she shut it behind her. The main character of his nightmares crouched on the floor, holding Ayve – who was bent over in pain - by his arms. Ayve’s eyes were widened, his face displaying the effort it cost him to control his respiration, and his hands were clinging manically to Pheus’ sleeves.

“They relocated him here a week ago. After you had left, his physical state grew worse each day. I guess he didn’t cope with the thought that you were leaving him as well as he demanded of himself.”

Stephen frowned. “Ayve knew what I was going to do? I didn’t even know myself!”

Ley looked at him with mildness in her face. “It wasn’t difficult to see, was it? Deep down, Ayve always knew that it couldn’t work, that he wasn’t able to give you what you wanted. He has too many other commitments.”

Stephen looked at the closed door in bewilderment.

“However,” Ley attracted his attention again, “he was on the mend in the last days.”

“This doesn’t look like a part of a recovering process,” Stephen remarked.

“No,” Ley admitted meekly and stepped back until she felt a chair behind her on which she sank down. She hid her face behind her hands for a moment, apparently upset about something. “Care for a coffee? I need one now. We’re not able to help here anyway; that’s Pheus’ domain. He’s the only one that can calm Ayve down.”

Stephen glared at the door again, not liking that idea, but decided to shut up about that. Something clearly was wrong here and Ley was the person most likely to tell him.

In the stairway was a vending machine. They silently stood in front of it, waiting for their drinks to be poured into plastic cups.

“What’s up?” Stephen asked finally, as Ley had leaned against the wall next to the machine, folding her arms.

With a sigh she looked down at her coffee. “Ayve’s bond-mate is dead.”

“What?” Stephen asked stupidly, taken off guard. “How?”

Ley looked at him with big, intelligent eyes. “Does it matter? Why do you care anyway? You’re here to leave him, after all…”

“But this changes everything!” Stephen tried to defy himself.

Ley gave him a pitiful look. “Does it? I don’t see how this would help your relationship. It just makes everything more difficult. Don’t fool yourself,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “you are right thinking Ayve won’t give you what you need. Haven’t you seen him?” She shook her head, her eyes watering. “Alannah and the baby meant more to him than he was letting on to in your presence. He longed to have a family. We can only hope he’ll find the way out of his misery. He definitely has no head for a lover like you at this point.”

Ley moved back towards the corridor where Ayve was. “If you want to do him a favour, send him some flowers with a nice message saying you understand the situation he is in and that you don’t blame him for anything. That will ease his conscience. But leave him in peace. He doesn’t have the power to deal with you.” She smiled at him encouragingly and turned to take up her place at Ayve’s door.

“Wait,” Stephen held her back.

She turned once more.

“Couldn’t I contact you, just to know how he is? Just because I don’t see a future in our relationship doesn’t mean that I don’t care about him…”

Ley smiled. She stepped towards him again. “Do you have something to write?”

Stephen rummaged in his bag and procured pen and paper.

She wrote something and handed them back to him. “That’s my cell phone number.”

She looked at him warmly. “At least my brother has a decent taste in men.”

She winked and left Stephen to his thoughts.


The End

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