Some Day One Day (Maylor AU)

Chapter 22

Freddie blew out a steady stream of smoke. "Last night?" He straightened his posture. "Shit, how could I forget? It was absolutely dreadful. I barely knew the poor guy, but—"

"No, I-I mean when you were there with Roger and me. You told Paul about it."

The shop owner stared at the curly-haired professor for a good while before biting his lip and asking, "Did I?"

"Yes, you did." Brian stood up from the chair, a grim expression washing over his face. "And I think he wants to use it against me."

"Use it against you?" Freddie echoed, laughing at the absurdity of his concern. "What on earth would he gain from telling everyone about that night? It's not like you did anything. I mean, you hardly got plastered and then left before any of the fun began."

The professor made his way over to the counter and placed his hands down on the smooth surface. "Look, Fred, I'm already on thin ice at the school. Okay? I always have been, and...and it was bad enough when word got 'round that Chrissie and I were together and that we were having a baby—"

"Liz," Freddie interrupted him, drawing another smoke from his cigarette all the while not breaking eye contact with the man standing across from him. He exhaled slowly, the smoke escaping his mouth from the side as he flicked the loose embers from the burning end of the white stick. "I know. Roger told me."

Brian lit up. "He did?"

"Of course. He called me one day and told me you sent him a picture of her when she was first born...and that you named her after him." The professor couldn't control the blush that conquered his pale cheeks, the photograph and short letter a distant memory even though he sent it just months ago. He kept the letter brief in fears that if he wrote more, every effort he made in moving on would prove to be a waste of time. "I nearly died when he told me that. Oh, I thought it was the most romantic thing ever, Brian—naming your child after the man your heart truly belongs to. That girl of yours must have been furious."

She was, he immediately thought.

The professor recalled the hushed but heated argument that occurred in the hospital room that hot August morning. He didn't win out of victory, though; Chrissie made sure of that with her reluctant and stubborn submission, accepting the name in exchange for Brian leaving the room to give her some space and retrieve a cup of ice chips. After being pushed away like that, it was hard to be happy about the small triumph. Who could be?

"I know I would have been," Freddie muttered, snapping his visitor out of the stupor he'd fallen into and taking another long drag. His eyebrows furrowed together in deep thought as he let the smoke slip past his parted lips before blurting out, "She knows about you and him, right?"

Brian swallowed nervously, gaining the courage to answer honestly. "Um, no, actually. Not that I know of."

"What?" the dark-haired man practically yelled, his eyes widening in disbelief. "You're kidding! You've got to be. How could she not know?"

"I-I don't know, Freddie. Maybe she does, but that's beside the point."

"Beside the point? No, Brian, you're smarter than this. I know you are," he retorted somewhat harshly, flicking the burning cigarette in the professor's direction, "Her not knowing has everything to do with why you're here right now." He smirked, picking up on the intensifying blush in his visitor's cheeks. "You still love him, don't you?"

"No," Brian was quick to answer, going so far as to shake his head, "No, I can't. I don't. He...He left, Fred. He moved on, and so have I. I-I'm married now, and I have a daughter, and...and I don't have feelings for him anymore."

"Oh, come on, Brian. Stop being so naïve." Freddie circled around the counter, leaning against it and adding a sort of intimacy to their conversation that it lacked before. "After all, why else would you have come to see me?"

The professor squirmed uncomfortably, tilting his head down and mumbling, "I-I came here because I need you to make sure that what you told Paul stays between you and Paul." His apprehensive eyes flickered up from where they fell to his feet. "Okay? That's all. Roger...Roger has nothing to do with it."

Freddie narrowed his eyes and brought his cigarette back up to his lips, holding it there without drawing from it as he studied the tall, nervous man before him and let the awkward tension between them rise. He breathed in deeply and dropped his hand to the side, asking, "Why don't you come to my house tonight and have a drink? That way you can loosen up and let me know what's really bothering you. I'll even pull out some of my old photo albums for you to look at and realize just how big a part Roger plays in all this. What do you say?"

Brian clicked his tongue in disbelief. "I'd say you're crazy!"

"Why?"

"Because I can't come over tonight!"

The dark-haired man pounded his fist into the countertop, shouting, "Then what can you do, Brian? Because I'm trying real hard here, but I can't think of a single fucking thing!"

The professor stared at him blankly, lips pressed together and hands clenched into fists by his sides. He racked his brain for an answer but came short of one. In the heat of the moment, he couldn't think about the degrees he'd earned, or about the relationship he'd devoted himself to—despite his mind's wandering eye—and the daughter he'd vowed to raise. Three things he'd done, yet he verbalized none of them, allowing Freddie to take an unsettling step closer to him and growl, "That's what I thought."

He spun around sharply and crossed the shop to fix a scarf on one of the mannequins. "I'll see you at my house tonight," the dark-haired man announced cheerfully, "Eight o'clock. Bring something strong." He turned his head over his shoulder and smirked. "You're going to need it."