Chapter 153 Chapter 154

Chapter 153 Chapter 154
This mistake, on the other hand, the one where he’d thought it a grand idea to bid on Ravi Baldwin, was a mistake of enormous proportions. Might he dare say, monumental proportions. It was uncertain if he’d ever recover.
Ravi turned back to him, big and looming and warm and so close. Temptation was flaunted in Denis’s face of what could have been if he’d been smarter, if he hadn’t been afraid to leap. 
The pondering was as old as time. He would linger on it during the nights. The what ifs. What if he hadn’t cut Ravi off but instead pulled him in? What if he were waking up in the morning, spooned by a raven-haired giant raining kisses down his neck and gripping his hip? What if…
At dawn, the thought would change appearance like a chameleon. It would instead become: What if Ravi had hated a life filled with travel and duties? What if he’d never pursued rugby and come to resent Denis? What if…
But the counterarguments didn’t seem to matter, not with Ravi beneath his fingers. Gods, he was just so breathtaking. He was real and alive and far from a fragment of Denis’s imagination. Not only did he look the same, but he looked better.
Ravi raised an eyebrow, his smile a questioning curl. The blonde jerked. He had been staring. 
“Sorry,” Denis said, pink-faced. “I- I’m sorry.”
Ravi’s smile dropped, his eyebrows drawing together. It seemed he was considering something, considering Denis. The blonde’s heart beat so loudly, he couldn’t hear the music anymore, just the rushing of blood.
“Denis, perhaps an introduction?”
Denis flinched, twisting in Ravi’s hold as his Maman appeared beside them. The song had ended, the crowd still in anticipation of a new tune. He hadn’t even noticed. 
His Maman wore a pleasant smile, her eyes flitting between the tall rugby lad and Denis. Her blue eyes snagged on him, a faint furrow marrying her forehead as she saw the whirlwind in his face. He wasn’t able to tell exactly what she spied; his face was too much of a mess. She might have seen sadness, desperation, shame – just take a pick. 
“Mrs. Arnold.” Ravi let go of him. Denis swayed dangerously, taking a few steps to the side as he searched for something stable to lean on. The hall was void of anything but moving bodies, perhaps by the walls, he’d find a sturdy pillar. 
All he knew was that he needed to escape. 
“I’ll let you have this dance, Maman,” he swallowed twice. “I just need some refreshments.”
Shreya’s mouth opened as if she meant to comment, perhaps asking him what was wrong. But Denis had already left, eyes averted from the looming rugby lad in the centre as he rushed through the crowd with speedy steps. Thankfully, most were occupied with dancing, leaving him free to find a dark corner void of people. He leaned against the wall, but the cold stone was not enough. With no better option, he slipped out of the room.
Despite attending the Lumos gala for several years, there had never been a need for Denis to explore the Norcross Mansion in which it took place. He was quite blind as he stumbled into a corridor to the side, the hallway long and dim, grand portraits adoring its walls, and a navy blue carpet rolled out. The sound of the ballroom turned muted, a safe silence taking its place. 
He finally collapsed. 
Denis knew he was too close to the festivities to break down, but it was like he’d been holding his breath, pedalling towards the surface as the need to breathe turned dire. Once he finally broke through, he was emptied of air, the need to inhale overwhelming. With a gasp, he crumbled.
He was a sorry sight, sitting against the wall, his arse on the cold marble floor and his hands wrapped around bent knees. He hid his face in the safety of his arms, vision blurry as he burrowed into the cocoon of his body. The next gasp was wet, garbled. It had been a long time since he cried last, perhaps years, perhaps five years.
It was a hard battle controlling his emotions. Despite being closer to thirty, Denis felt like a child. He bit his lip, attempting to swallow the lump lodged high in his throat; it tasted like bile and salt. If it were to break through, emerge into the world, he’d be nothing but a puddle. Maybe he should call Aarav or Ishani? 
But it would be cruel, leaving Ravi without talking, without at least telling him he was sorry for how they’d parted all those years ago. Because he was sorry. So, so sorry. It was nothing but cowardice that had kept him from reaching out all these years. A fear that he’d see the raven-haired lad with a scowl on his face, eyes cold and accusatory. If time had turned Ravi bitter, Denis knew he would rather have lived his days in ignorance.
But Ravi hadn’t seemed bitter. He’d just seemed normal, like someone who had moved on. The thought made the lump in Denis’s throat spill into his mouth. His cheeks puffed as he attempted to contain it, the taste of it coating his tongue. 
That was what he’d wanted all along, for him and Ravi to be happy, but without someone who fit them. Two years ago, there had been a picture going around the rags with Ravi and a midnight-haired lass. Ravi had his arm thrown around her shoulders, her body leaning into his. He’d looked at her with a soft smile, wrinkles around his eyes. Ravi was a private athlete outside the rugby field, but the picture had allowed Britain a glimpse into a life beyond the sport. The headline read: Rugby star Baldwin and girlfriend walking through Edinburgh.
Denis could only fight the lump so much, at the next breath, it slipped out. Like an avalanche, the first tumble of snow was small, just a few lumps. But then the rest followed swiftly, a live river of deadly white.