The village consisted only of houses. That meant if you were looking to live on your own, there weren't any good options. Either you were stuck in a house far too big for you or you could buy one of the establishments which had housing on top of it. Like Ethan's café, which had an apartment to live in one floor up from the café area.

So most of us continued to live with our parents until the day we were ready to move out to create a family of our own. Me included, and like most aspects of my life, I detested it.

Home had never felt like what I imagined a home should feel like. It was a place to sleep and eat. Not a place to live in. Even while growing up.

Dad hadn't ever been interested in anything other than sports. Mum cared more about how others perceived our home than what actually went on inside of it. All conversations we had as a family were superficial, and though we always ate dinner together when it was possible, the chatter of cutlery against the plates was always louder than the chatter between the three of us.

We were three individuals living under the same roof. Not a family.

So every time I had a day off work, I'd find something away from home to occupy the day with.

"Where are you going?" Mum asked me in a voice, which had for years been smoothing out her dialect, as I put my boots on. She wasn't looking at me when she asked but flipping through her calendar.

"The café," I answered, and she hummed. I wondered if her response would have been different if I had told her I was going to hell.

"The Prestons have moved back up from London. You remember them, right? They have two daughters around your age. One recently got married and settled in Edinburgh. The other is single."

I didn't answer her monologue, but took my jacket off the coat rack.

"I'm looking for a date for us all to get together again."

A million possible answers swam around my head.

Plan all ye want. I'm not goin'.

Why do ye torture yerself by hangin' out with people who will make ye feel inferior?

If ye think it's not obvious ye want to set me up, then I got news for ye.

Mum, I'm never nor will I ever be interested in datin' the Preston daughter.

I'm gay.

"Aye," was all I said before opening the door. The coldness of the windy January day hit me square in the face. I sighed in relief over being out of the house.

Normally, I'd look for Alasdair during my days off work. But it had been a long time since I spent quality time with Airlia. I didn't blame her at all. She deserved all the happiness she got with Ethan. It really just made me feel happy for her, and though he occupied most of her time nowadays, I knew she'd let go of everything if I asked for her company.

But since it had been so long, I decided I'd spend the day with her. Possibly with both her and Ethan to get to know him some more.

It absolutely wasn't because of how hard it was becoming being in Alasdair's presence.

With the café located on the outskirts of the village, it took me a bit over half an hour to walk there. The usual jingle of the bell sounded as I pushed the door open, and warmth and the smell of newly baked scones wafted over my frozen face.

It was about lunchtime, and quite a few of the mismatched tables were occupied. At one, Gloria and Ester sat. They talked in their standard conspiratorial whispers, which really weren't whispers at all. If they had been whispering, then they wouldn't have even heard what they themselves said. The Wallace family sat by one. The father kept their three-year-old busy while the mother breastfed their baby. A group of women my parents' age sat at yet another table. Flora's mother among them. So much for trying to escape everything which made it hard to breathe.

"Errol!" Airlia exclaimed from behind the counter and I made my way to her. She looked as happy as always with a brilliant smile, which made it impossible to not smile back. "What you doing here?"

"Got the day off an' nothin' better to do," I shrugged. They had a few chairs to sit on by the counter, and I took one. Without asking me about it, Airlia poured a cup of coffee.

"Alasdair's busy?" she asked and handed the cup over. I took a sip before answering.

"Don't know. Haven't asked."

To some extent, I think Airlia stole all of Alasdair's social perception skills in the womb. Though not really. Alasdair was good at picking up certain things. Just awful at picking up other stuff. Airlia, though, always seemed to be in tune with those around her. At least those she cared about.

"We've not really talked since New Year's," she said, her voice lower than before. "How are you feeling with..." Her voice died down as her eyes travelled over to where Flora's mother sat, likely planning some church event with the other women.

"I'm alright," I answered and took another sip, but sweet Airlia wouldn't have it. She knew, she could tell. Just like how she had been able to see what I felt for Alasdair all those years ago before even I had acknowledged my feelings, she could now tell things were ripping inside of me more than usual.

She looked over towards Flora's mother again, then leaned closer as she spoke to me in a whisper. "I'm sorry, Errol. Is there anything I can do? It's been a while since we hung out just the two of us. Should we take a weekend and go somewhere?"

I smiled at her. She was as caring as always. Ready to cheer me up. But a weekend away wouldn't help, so I shook my head. "No need. I'll be fine."

"Will you?" she asked, then sighed and looked at me with eyes brimming with concern. Eyes which made my stomach twist into painful knots. "I worry about you."

She meant well. That much was clear. But seeing her worry only amplified my pain. It was a confirmation of everything I felt. A reflection of the pain I wanted to escape.

"Don't," I answered.

"You're my best friend. And it's kinda in the job description to worry."

I opened my mouth to answer her, but the jingle of the bell, the cold wind slipping inside, and the voice that followed shut me up.

"There ye are!"

How could a voice cause me enough happiness that I could float to the sun at the same time as it caused me pain worthy of hell?

I turned to watch Alasdair walk over with a smile of all the stars in the galaxy.

"I went to the pub, but they told me ye were off work. Then went to yer home, but ye weren't there an' yer Mum told me she didn't know where ye'd gone," he explained as he walked over.

"Ye've run around the whole village lookin' for me?" I chuckled and wanted to pull him into my arms. Kiss him for his sweetness. Take him somewhere private and just bask in his comfort.

"I just had an idea, but it's great ye're here. Have ye told him?" He turned to Airlia, who shook her head.

"He just came so haven't had time," she answered and her smile seemed to grow.

"Told me what?" I asked her. Something positive, no doubt, and my eyes fell on her hand, but no engagement ring rested there.

"Remember how Ethan told me he had contacted an art gallery in Edinburgh for me on my birthday?" she asked, and I nodded. "We're going there this weekend with a few of my paintings to see if they'll be interested in selling them."

In that moment, all my pain and moodiness were completely forgotten as all I could contain was my happiness for Airlia. She had wanted that for so long, and finally it was within reach. She, if anyone, deserved to have all her dreams and wishes come true.

"That's amazin'! Congrats!" I exclaimed and would have hugged her had the counter not been in the way.

"Thank you," she beamed.

"So an' to my idea," Alasdair said, pulling our attention to him. "What if we go with an' then the four of us can go out in Edinburgh in the evenin'? Wouldn't that be fun! An' maybe we'll find a lassie for ye!"

He shoved my arm lightly, and the happiness I had felt for Airlia was all sucked out of me like dirt being sucked up by a vacuum cleaner. Of all the things he could have said, he managed to say one of the things which hurt the most. There was just so much about his comments that I needed a lassie, which hurt. That it reminded me of how he saw me. That he happily wanted me to find someone else to spend time with. That no matter how well he knew me, he didn't completely and never would because of my decision to never tell him my sexuality.

I considered him my best friend, but not even he knew what I really wanted in life.

"I'm not sure about that," Airlia answered. "We'd have to close the café two days then instead of just one. And we don't know how long it'll take with the gallery."

"Ye two can be a boring couple then, an' me an' Errol will just hitch a ride into Edinburgh an' then party on our own. What do ye say?" he asked me.

I really needed to learn to say no to him. My inability to was eating me alive. Destroying me and, inadvertently, destroying even my friendship with Alasdair.

When he had turned eighteen, he had asked me to take him out in Edinburgh as a birthday gift. We had gone out, and he had seen some lassie he wanted to hook up with. But the lassie had been there with a friend, so he had asked if I would be willing to entertain the friend while he gave it a go. I had felt awkward and awful. The friend had made advances on me and I had spent all night dodging them while in my peripheral been far too aware Alasdair was making out with the lassie.

Afterwards, I had been upset with him and not been able to contain it.

"You have to say no to him," Airlia had told me after I had explained my side of what had happened. "He has no idea why you got upset. And you know that. He thinks you just didn't like the lassie at all and are pissy because of that. If you keep going like this, then one day he'll ask you for something, which to him will feel like a normal favour but which will hurt you so much you lash out and destroy your friendship."

I knew what she had said held truth. Not setting any boundaries with him would break me. But that didn't mean I had learnt from it all, so I agreed, though the mere thought of Alasdair trying to be my wingman made me want to rip my skin off my body.