Nick
I hadn’t seen it coming. Hell, I hadn’t even suspected it.
The manipulative genius of Meinir had completely blindsided me. The door slammed shut behind her, the sound echoing through the old farmhouse. My heart skipped a beat, and not in the good way. Being alone with Cerys Evans? Terrifying didn’t begin to cover it.
The woman had made it her mission to remind me of every mistake I’d ever made. Her glares could freeze hell over, I swear.
I stared at her, trying to reconcile the woman before me with the girl I’d known. Her hair was longer, pulled back in a practical braid, but a few wisps had escaped to frame her face. She’d always been beautiful, but there was a sharpness to her features now, a hardness in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. Was that my fault too?
I’d come back to the farm to see Meinir, like I always did when I passed through town. It had become a tradition, something I felt I owed her after Gareth’s death. A small penance, perhaps, for not being there when it mattered most.
I hadn’t expected Cerys. And if I’d known she was going to be here, I probably would’ve run the other way.
Coward.
The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. My fingers itched to grab my drumsticks, to fill the quiet with a rhythm, any rhythm. Instead, I shoved my hands into my pockets to keep from fidgeting.
Part of me wanted to fill it with words, explanations, apologies — anything. But what could I say that I hadn’t tried to say a hundred times before? Every rehearsed line felt hollow now.
I shifted in my seat at the old wooden table, wishing I was anywhere but here — back on stage, mid-set, drumsticks whirling in my hands as I got lost in the beat.
“So...” I said, trailing off awkwardly.
“So,” Cerys echoed, suddenly very interested in the pattern on her plate.
“Remind me never to play poker with that woman.” I forced a chuckle that sounded hollow even to my own ears.
She grunted, but continued to study her plate like it held the secrets of the universe.
“Did you have any idea she was planning this little ambush?”
She turned her head just enough to glance at me, her green eyes sharp. “If I had, do you think I’d be here?”
Fair point.
She let out a derisive snort. “She’s meddling where she’s not wanted.”
I bit back a sigh. Talking to Cerys these days was like navigating a minefield — one wrong step and everything blew up in my face.
“Look, I didn’t come here to cause trouble. I just wanted to see Meinir before heading back on tour.”
“Well, you’ve seen her,” she said, her tone icy. “No one’s stopping you from leaving.”
Ouch. But true. Yet even with that knowledge, I didn’t move from my seat.
“Probably not wise for me to drive the country lanes when it’s bucketing it down.”
She shrugged, folding the tea towel with precise movements. “You’re a big boy. I’m sure a bit of rain won’t melt you.”
Her words stung more than they should have. I clenched my jaw, swallowing the retort that threatened to spill out.
There was no point in arguing. Not with her. Not after all these years.
I cleared my throat, desperate to break the suffocating silence. “So... how’s the cheese business?”
Cerys stiffened in her chair, her movements slow and deliberate as she picked up her cup. She arched an eyebrow, finally glancing up at me. “It’s fine.”
“Just fine?” I offered a tentative smile. “Meins mentioned you’ve been winning awards.”
Her expression remained guarded. “She exaggerates.”
“Still, it’s impressive. You always had a knack for it.”
She crossed her arms, eyes narrowing slightly. “You wouldn’t know. You haven’t been around.”
There it was — the dagger slipped between the ribs. I resisted the urge to rub my chest where the phantom pain settled. I’d had years of practice hiding my emotions from the press, from fans, from myself.
“Fair enough, but I always knew you had it in you.”
She snorted, a sound caught between derision and amusement. “Right. Because you’ve been so involved in my life lately.”
I winced internally but didn’t let it show. The urge to flee warred with the need to make things right, somehow. But how do you mend eight years of silence and blame?
“Look, I know I haven’t been around much, but—”
“Save it,” she cut me off, pushing back from the table. The legs of her chair scraped against the stone floor, the sound grating on my nerves. “I don’t need your half-assed apologies or your pity. I’m doing just fine without you.”
She stood, gathering the plates with sharp, efficient movements. The clink of china seemed unnaturally loud in the tense quiet. Her hands trembled ever so slightly. Or maybe that was just my wishful thinking.
“Here, let me help.” I reached for a dish.
Our hands brushed, and we both jerked back as if burned. For a split second, I was seventeen again, sneaking glances at Cerys across the classroom, my heart racing every time she smiled. But those stolen looks were always tinged with guilt. She was Gareth’s girl, utterly off-limits. I’d buried those feelings deep, channelling them into my music.
Now, her eyes held no warmth, just a weary resignation that cut deeper than any glare.
“I’ve got it,” she said, her voice clipped. “You’d probably just break something anyway.”
I bit back a sigh and slumped back into my chair. This was going nowhere fast.
I should just leave.
My eyes followed Cerys around the kitchen, efficiently clearing up. The half-eaten shepherd’s pie sat in front of me.
Part of me wanted to shovel it down, fulfilling my promise to Meins so I could bolt. But another part, the part I’d been trying to silence for years, knew I owed Cerys more than that. Still, I found myself picking up my fork, pushing the food around my plate as I searched for something, anything, to say.
My legs jiggled under the table — an old habit I couldn’t get a handle on. The tension humming between us was thick enough to drown in, but I wasn’t about to run yet. Meinir could storm in any second with dessert, tell us to play nice, and maybe this would all blow over — or, at the very least, I could retreat back to the life waiting for me outside her farmhouse door.
“And, um, how’s your dad?” I asked, grasping for any thread of conversation. “Is he giving you a hard time for changing things up in the business?”
The plate in Cerys’s hand clattered into the sink. There was a moment of silence that seemed to stretch like a cat waking from a nap — slow, deliberate, more dangerous than it looked.
She turned to face me, her expression a mix of disbelief and bitter amusement. She met my eyes, her gaze hard. “My father passed away last year, Nick. Another funeral you missed.”
My heart sank to somewhere around the floor. “Shit, I... I had no idea. I’m...”
“Sorry?” she finished for me, the fire in her eyes sparking brighter.
A flash of lightning outside punctuated her words, briefly illuminating the kitchen in harsh white light.
“Don’t bother. Your apologies don’t mean much.” Her tone turned bitter. “I don’t know why I was stupid enough to hope you might show up. You couldn’t even do that for Gareth.”
The name — his name — hung heavy between us, cutting through the thin veil of civility we’d been clinging to. And just like that, I knew we were headed straight into the thick of it, and there was no avoiding it now.
A familiar tightness gripped my chest, the old guilt resurfacing with a vengeance. I didn’t know how to respond.
For years, I’d rehearsed all the things I could say if I saw her again, something that could explain why I stayed away without sounding like the complete coward I was. But now, staring into her fire-spitting eyes? All those words tangled up in my throat.
When I didn’t respond, she sighed and wiped her hands on a tea towel, the motion brisk.
“If you’re not going to leave, we should get that over with.” She gestured to the cardboard box I’d diligently tried to ignore.
“You mean... now?”
“Yes, now.” She arched a brow, a hint of impatience flashing in her eyes. “Unless you’d prefer to drag this out even longer. Frankly, the sooner we do this, the sooner we can both get back to our lives and never have to see each other again.”
Ouch. Not that I didn’t deserve it. Still, hearing her say it so bluntly sent a sharp pang through my chest.
“Fine,” I muttered, pushing myself up from the table. “Let’s get it over with.”
“Fine.” Her gaze fell to the worn cardboard and mine begrudgingly followed.
How could something so innocent looking contain so much potential for pain?
Cerys reached out, her fingers hovering over the dusty cardboard. Hesitation radiated from her and I couldn’t blame her. We’d spent so much time in this house growing up, spent so many hours with Gareth, experienced so many firsts together. There would only be good memories inside that box, but even knowing that with absolute certainty, the thought of opening it, of exposing those happy times to life without him…it was the last thing I wanted to do.
I couldn’t believe Meins would ever throw Gareth’s things out, but that didn’t mean I was willing to risk it.
Which left one option.
Swallow the lump in my throat and get my shit together.
Finally, Cerys took a deep breath and released the haphazard crisscross holding it shut. We each stared at it again. I wouldn’t be surprised if we each held our breath at the same time.
“We can do this in the living room,” she said, not meeting my gaze.
“Lead the way,” I said, my voice strained.
