Love to Hate You: Three's a Crowd

Chapter Twelve - Wood Burner

Amy lived in a cottage. At least, that's what Xander determined when they visited her home the following day. It was small – certainly by the standards he was used to – and it was old. The only person he knew who lived in an old house was Ramona, and an old mansion was very different to an old cottage. An old mansion which had been modernised and kept in an immaculate condition, was a very different prospect to a cottage which had exposed beams in the ceiling and a creaking, slightly-wonky staircase. It didn't matter that the beams had been painted white. Xander could still see them. He could still hear the creak of centuries long past.

'How old is this place?' he asked, as politely as he could.

'Oh, late eighteen-hundreds, I think.' He thought it was older, not that almost one-hundred-and-fifty years wasn't old enough, already.

'I can see why you didn't like my flat,' he said, standing in her living room on a stripy area rug which looked far too feminine for his tastes. He didn't have to walk about to take in the room. It wasn't large enough to warrant footsteps, and the plethora of personal belongings and extraneous decorative items was abundantly clear from every angle.

'What?' she called, as she carried a Cath Kidston tea tray in from her kitchen, complete with tea pot, cups and saucers. Not the glass kind.

'Your home. It's... you like... period features,' he said, as diplomatically as he could.

'Yeah.'

'And, um... it's... cosy.'

'Yes!' She smiled at him. 'It is. Especially in winter, and in the summer, I open the back door and I can see the flowers from the sofa. Then it feels really fresh and tranquil.'

'I just wonder if the step between the living room and kitchen will be a problem for the babies?' he asked. 'When they start walking.' There, he said to himself. That was diplomatic. It was a safety concern and not a criticism.

'It's a very shallow step,' she told him. He turned his attention to the wood burner in the centre of the room.

'Is that thing safe, though?' he asked, with a nod of his head towards the offending stove.

'What do you mean?'

'Well, ignoring the pollution they create, they're a carbon monoxide poisoning risk, aren't they?'

'I've got a carbon monoxide detector and I get the wood burner serviced every year,' she reassured him.

'But doesn't it get hot? Would it need a fire guard?'

'I don't need it all that much; usually only on very cold days and often only in the evenings, so I don't think it'd be a problem, but we could always get a fire guard,' she said, shrugging as she sipped her tea. Xander took a sip of his own drink, before promptly spitting it back out.

'What is this?' he asked, wiping tea from his lips.

'Decaf.' He grimaced before forcing a smile. 'Do you want to see the garden? Or the bedrooms? There's only one bathroom, but it's a good size.' Xander knew he ought to say yes. He knew he ought to make himself agreeable, and yet...

'You have a wood burner,' he told her.

'Yes?' Because they'd already discussed the wood burner; it was time to move on.

'I'm sorry,' he said, setting down his stupid fluted teacup – what was wrong with a mug? – and shaking his head resolutely. 'I can't live in a house with a wood burner. And a fire guard is possibly even worse.' Not to mention, he could see a dog bed in the corner of the room!

'What?' she laughed, thinking he was in jest. Surely, a grown man couldn't be so petty? But alas, he could.

'The wood burner; I can't live here. Not with that thing staring at me, and it's not even on. When it's burning away and glowing and throwing off heat and smells, and when the burning wood cracks and snaps...' He shuddered. 'No. I'm sorry. I can't.'

'Are you serious?' Amy scoffed, because it was not normal. Certainly, he might not choose to have a wood burner, but to refuse to live with his three children because she happened to have one in her living room?

'Deadly,' he replied, before rising to his feet. 'I don't think this is going to work, Amy. I'm sorry. I want to support you and I want to do the right thing. I do want to help out with the babies, and ideally that means us living together – at least for a time – but I can't live here. It's got beams and the steps on the staircase are shallow. The windows are small and the wood burner... I don't like the fence in the back garden – it's a picket fence and they offer no privacy – and –' But here, she cut him short.

'Privacy?' she exclaimed. 'Privacy? Says the man who lives in a goldfish bowl with no curtains; in a city, in immediate proximity with thousands of other people and no curtains in his living room?'

'But that's different. Besides, if it was just the picket fence, I'd get over it. But you've got a wood burner and –'

'You're just making excuses!' she accused.

'No, I'm not. I really, genuinely, cannot live somewhere that has a wood burner, and –'

'You're terrified of commitment, and you're looking for a way out,' she continued, her voice rising.

'No! That's not fair. You vetoed my place. Why can't I veto yours?'

'Because your apartment is stupid. It's sterile and cold and soulless. It's impractical and I could tell, from how generic and spartan it was, that the moment I started filling it with baby things you'd get all antsy and start resenting my presence.'

'I wouldn't resent your presence!' Xander insisted. 'Just the f*cking wood burner's!' And Horatio's.

'If you mention that wood burner one more time, Xander,' Amy warned.

'What's wrong with a bloody radiator?' he scowled.

'I think you ought to leave,' Amy said, jumping to her feet.

'I want to!' he snapped.

'Good.'

'Fine!'

'Enjoy your pool house.'

'Enjoy your shabby chic collection of crap!' he retorted, before snatching up his very stylish jacket – not Barbour – and slamming the front door behind him.

*** Author's Note***

I know it was short, but it was the way the chapters worked out...

What do you think of Amy's cottage? Do you think Xander was being immature, or was it just too big of an ask? I think they needed a bit of tension. They've been very amicable so far, but they're having three babies. Surely it was time for a mini-meltdown?

Next up, marital bliss.