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Robert wasn’t sure how many more days, weeks, or—God forbid—months, he could endure this. At first, he was fine. No, he was better than fine; he was calm, collected, and calculating. The picture was taken care of and Aaron was properly falling into step as Rob had intended. Nothing was going wrong. He was going to get away with this.
But something dark shifted inside Robert one morning as he watched Andy fall apart in the cafe. Everyone had rushed to Andy’s aid, but Robert stood alone, cold and… not collected.
He left the cafe but only made it as far as closing the door before collapsing against the wall, shaking. He tried to crawl away before anyone noticed his absence, but his vision blurred and his heart rate accelerated and his knees ached from the ground and the air was pushing against him but refused to enter his lungs—and he knew he was going to die. This was the end. This was Katie getting her last revenge, one that Robert could not manipulate his way out of. Her ghost pressed against his chest, and he was gasping for air, and he shouted “DON’T TOUCH ME!” at someone, but he had no idea who. He had lost contact with all of his senses except the sound of his strangled breath, the icy touch of his hands against each other, and the feeling of fear consuming him.
—-
Chrissie had insisted on a hospital visit, but Robert was tight-lipped about his panic attack. “Nothing’s wrong,” he insisted. “Just worried about Andy and the whole Katie mess was just shocking. I’m fine.” That was the end of the conversation.
Since then, he had only had four other attacks, but each was worse than the last. He would be fine so long as he avoided any prolonged discussion of Katie, but everyone was abuzz with talk of the village’s latest tragedy. To Robert’s dismay, a puffy-eyed Aaron asked about his attack one evening in the pub. He had been the one to find him outside the cafe, Adam and Victoria in toe. Robert spit back to keep his mouth shut about it, and then he had raced back to Home Farm.
At home, Chrissie followed Robert straight into the bedroom.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Robert shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Obviously not,” she said, wrapping her arms around him. “Just tell me. I’m your wife.”
Her arms felt like heavy iron chains constricting around his body, and he pushed her off. When she hit the floor, he felt his heart plummet. He dropped to his knees, reaching for her as if she were about to fall into an abyss.
Chrissie had quickly forgiven him for shoving her, aware of how distraught her husband was.
“Why don’t we lie down?” she asked. “Tomorrow, we should arrange for you to see a therapist. All this tragedy is obviously getting to you.”
“I don’t want to speak to anyone,” he said. He slid into bed and wrapped the covers tightly around his neck, hoping Chrissie wouldn’t try to cuddle.
After climbing into bed ,Chrissie pet Robert’s hair gently but kept her distance otherwise. She took the hint, probably because it had been like this for the past few weeks. Robert had only touched her briefly since the wedding, and they’d only had sex two times, both encounters quick and unloving. Robert blamed stress when Chrissie expressed concern that he’d lost interest after sharing their vows.
That night, Katie visited Robert.
He was standing over the hole in the floor, looking down where Katie’s body had fallen. The floor was neatly swept, no wreckage in sight.
“Why did you kill me?”
Robert turned around to see Katie standing behind him, a younger version of herself—the age she had been when they were engaged.
“I didn’t—I didn’t—” Robert gasped for air.
She pushed him through the hole, and he crashed into a pile of broken wood and glass much larger than the wreckage that had surrounded Katie.
She stood before him now in the wedding gown she wore in her second marriage to Andy. She was clean, pristine, and beautiful—the only thing so bright in their dark surroundings.
“You did kill me.”
“No, no—I didn’t—I didn’t mean to—”
“You shoved me.”
“I didn’t know you’d—”
“You’re a murderer.”
“No!” He tried push himself up, but wood and glass cut and tore his hands.
“You need to accept it.”
“It’s not true!”
“You need to wake up and ACCEPT IT!”
“No!”
“Everyone knows what a monster you are. Just WAKE UP!”
He woke to Chrissie shaking him, shouting for him to wake up. His entire body felt hot, but he was drenched in a cold sweat. He peeled back the wet blankets and stumbled to the closet, grabbing his coat.
“Robert!”
His heart was beating so fast it felt like the rest of his body couldn’t keep up. His mind and movements felt sluggish as he dashed through the house, desperate to get outside.
Chrissie followed, shouting his name, but he ignored her, too terrified to face her.
—-
Robert didn’t remember getting into his car, but he found himself driving now. The clock showed 2:57 in the morning, and the pitch blackness outside confirmed it. The hum of his car soothed him, as did the starless sky.
He knew where he was driving, but he didn’t know how to admit it to himself, so he chose to focus on the cloud cover blanketing Emmerdale instead. It made him feel both tightly sheltered and free in an endless expanse. Nothing else could make him feel this way except the person he was headed toward.
There had been no nervousness or fear or uncertainty on the trip over, not even as he went through the door without knocking and climbed the stairs like a thief in the night. Only as he stood in front of Aaron’s door did his nerves catch up to him. He held the doorknob for quite sometime, contemplating why he was there, what he would say, what he would do if Aaron wasn’t there or if Aaron wasn’t alone. He pressed his forehead to the door, took in a sharp breath, and turned the knob.
Aaron was asleep. Alone. And peaceful, it seemed, which was so unlike Robert’s nights, trapped in torment as he lay beside someone who could never know, never understand.
Robert kneeled beside the bed and placed his palm on Aaron’s face. He stared at Aaron’s face until his eyes adjusted to the room’s darkness. The scruff on Aaron’s face had a comforting familiarity, and he found himself running his thumb over the paradoxically scratchy fluff.
“Aaron,” he whispered.
No response. Robert envied Aaron’s steady breathing but also resented it. How could he be so calm, so peaceful, after what had happened? It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t fair.
“Aaron,” he said slightly louder.
He shook Aaron’s shoulder until Aaron opened his eyes and slammed his head against the wall as he jolted up, choking in air.
“Robert?”
Aaron’s voice threw Robert off, pulling up images of Katie. Her words creeped back into his mind, and he was powerless to stop it.
“What you doing here?” Aaron said, voice sharp. He switched on a lamp by his bed, darting his eyes around the room. “Christ, it’s nearly four in the morning!”
Robert noticed a nearly empty cold medicine bottle and briefly wondered if Aaron had looked so peaceful asleep because he, like Robert, needed medication just to sleep most nights.
“Yeah,” Robert replied.
“Yeah?” Aaron furrowed his brow. “So what you doing here? Didn’t Paddy and my mum tell you to keep away?”
“Yeah.”
Aaron stared in response and propped himself up on his elbow, leaning toward the edge of the bed so that he was facing Robert. The closeness tempted Robert, but his looming fear locked him in his kneeling position, hands fisted on his knees.
“Robert, what’s going on?”
“I had a dream.”
“Okay? So why you here?”
“Katie.”
Aaron looked on quizzically. “Did something happen? Did the police—”
“No, not that,” Rob said. Salty tears burned at the edges of his eyes. “My dream. It was Katie.”
Aaron sighed, placing a hand on Robert’s shoulder. “That wasn’t your fault, mate.”
But it was, and Robert knew it. He knew it, and the guilt swelled and bubbled inside so much he feared it would push out his insides and burn away his soul. He looked up at Aaron’s face, gold from the lamp light, searching for some sort of sign. No sign came.
“It was,” he finally managed. Hot tears streaked down his face. His shoulders shook as his throat swelled.
Aaron lifted his hand from Robert’s shoulder.
“I pushed her,” Robert said in a broken voice.
“You what?” Aaron’s eyes were wide. The hand he had lifted was left dangling between the men.
“I shoved her.”
“You… You killed her?” He placed his hand over his mouth.
“I—no! It was an accident,” Robert sobbed. “I swear.”
“You—you—shoved her through the floor? You killed her?” As Aaron raised his voice, Robert felt his panic frothing at the edge.
“I didn’t—I didn’t!” He needed words, but they wouldn’t come, his thoughts too muddled with fear.
“What are you saying?” Aaron was sitting up now, his face covered with his hands and his legs on either side of Robert.
“I—She—I didn’t know—the floor.” His body wracked with each sob. He had come here seeking some sort of absolution, and he could hardly manage a confession. Giving up, he placed his forehead on Aaron’s knee and gripped the fabric of Aaron’s boxers to steady himself.
“You didn’t mean to kill her, did you?” The uncertainty in Aaron’s voice stung something deep inside of Robert.
“No,” Robert replied.
“Ok,” Aaron said, running his hand through Robert’s hair.
Robert leaned in to the touch, desperate for it to continue—for it to never end. “Ok?”
“Yeah,” Aaron said and gently added: “She fell?”
“Yes. No. I pushed her, and she fell through the—I didn’t know—I didn’t mean for…” He lifted his head from Aaron’s knee and was surprised when he looked up to find Aaron’s eyes pooling with tears. “I didn’t know the floor would… I never meant to—kill her. It was an accident. I swear. It was an accident.” He clutched Aaron’s bare calf and asked desperately, “Do you believe me?”
Aaron gave a weak nod. “I believe you,” he said, massaging Robert’s scalp with firm fingers.
After a minute, Aaron pushed back the covers, Robert watching his moves intently until Aaron wrapped his arms underneath Robert’s and pulled him onto the bed. He pulled the covers up to Robert’s neck and held him close.
Aaron’s smell engulfed him, sending warmth through his body. The scent was ripe and salty, like Aaron had recently neglected his usual shower routine. Perhaps a sign that Aaron wasn’t getting over any of this easily, Robert realized, and that made a lot more sense to him. He didn’t feel so alone. Something about that made Robert relish in Aaron’s scent. It was manly and raw, a stark contrast to the pristine, often cold environment Robert lived in. Aaron was far more natural, like the expansive sky, and more soothing, like the purr of a car, than anything in Robert’s home.
Taking comfort in Aaron wasn’t easy, though; guilt did its best to stomp out every ounce of joy. The dream replayed in his mind, Katie’s words cutting at his heart.Monster, monster… He buried his face in Aaron’s chest, crying.
“I’m not a monster,” Robert said, his words barely intelligible through his sobs. “I’m not a monster, I’m not—I’m not a monster, I’m not, I’m not—”
“I know,” Aaron said, pressing his forehead to the other man’s. Robert could feel Aaron’s tears on his cheek.
They didn’t speak again that night. Instead, they laid in each other’s arms until one kissed the other. The kiss came so naturally neither knew who started it. Eventually, Robert was undressed, and they continued kissing each other’s wet cheeks and lips, caressing each other’s bodies with careful tenderness, until they fell asleep.
—-
Robert woke in a woolly embrace, Aaron’s soft breath against the back of his neck. Aaron’s skin was so warm, the bed was so warm, everything was so warm that it overwhelmed Robert’s senses. Robert understood for the first time what people meant when they spoke about feeling like their hearts could burst from wanting—needing—someone so much. He clasped his hand on Aaron’s, pulling the man’s arms tighter around his chest. Aaron stirred awake.
“Robert?”
“Yeah?”
“You slept here.”
“Yeah.”
Robert turned around to face Aaron. They smiled at each other, their faces puffy and hair messy from sleep.
“What’re you gonna say to Chrissie?”
“Dunno.”
Robert didn’t want to think about Chrissie. He didn’t want to think about anything but Aaron and his warm world.
“Aaron?”
“Yeah?”
Robert wasn’t sure what he had wanted to say. “…Thanks for last night.”
Aaron nodded, watching himself rub his thumb on Robert’s chest.
“I really… felt like a monster,” Robert said, furrowing his brow.
“You’re not,” Aaron said, lifting his gaze to meet Robert’s. “Well, you sort of are,” he joked. “You make up for it, though, with this.” He grabbed Robert’s crotch with a big grin.
“You cheeky—!” Robert laughed, playfully shoving Aaron. “I was being serious!”
“Who said I wasn’t?” Aaron bit his lip, squinting his bright eyes.
Affection gushed through Robert at the sight, inspiring a sound halfway between a sigh and a moan. The sound was entirely new to him, and it roused his heart.
He realized why he had driven to Aaron in the middle of the night. He realized why every room Aaron entered seemed to gain color and heat. And he realized what he had wanted to say just moments ago.
“I love you.”
He hadn’t meant to say it so loudly or so quickly, but he had meant to say it. And he had said it for no other reason than wanting Aaron to know it, and he wasn’t sure he had ever said it for such a simple, sincere reason. The thought excited and scared Robert.
“Do you mean that?” Aaron’s eyes were searching Robert’s face for any sign that it was a joke or trick.
“Yes. I love you.”
“You said this wasn’t a love story,” Aaron bit back, his eyes watering.
“I was wrong. This is definitely a love story. A bit like Beauty and the Beast.” He couldn’t stop smiling as he tugged Aaron close, confident he wouldn’t reject him. “You’re the beauty, obviously. Well, me too, I suppose.”
Aaron wrapped his hands around Robert’s face and pulled him into a strong kiss. They showed each other’s faces with a frenzy of kisses.
“Say it again,” Aaron demanded.
“I love you,” Robert said between kisses. “I love you. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“I know.”