Three days before the wedding, Daniël reads the formal letter to Steve about the sentencing of

the attackers. Nine years is a meaningless number. But any number would be just as meaningless. So

Daniël puts the letter away and scans the papers of that morning without comment.

*

Steve’s apartment is strangely empty of most things that are personal to him and Daniël.

Books, music, movies, photos, almost all their clothes, and the odds and ends: it’s all moved from

where they are to where they are going to be. Their house in Hollycroft looks like it’s actually a place

where real people might live very soon. But they still have a couch to sit on and a bed to sleep in, an

electric kettle to make a cup of tea, so Steve wouldn’t call it uncomfortable. Perhaps it can best be

described as being a guest in your own home. His wedding suit hangs in a nearly empty closet, next to

Daniël’s, two pairs of shoes standing underneath it. It’s one of the few items they will carefully pack

for their trip to Holland. After that, he won’t come back to this place because a home is waiting for

him. A home and a husband.

*

The flight to Rotterdam in the Goldman private jet the day before the wedding is extremely

comfortable. Steve feels a bit awkward about this kind of extravagance until Daniël reminds him it’s

not polite to not enjoy this generous gift. “I can’t imagine anything being too good for you. And we

don’t want you tired from the journey on our big day. After all, if I have any say in this, you’ll never

have to do this again in your life, except for our anniversaries, of course. And we’ll have lots of

anniversaries...just teasing you, love.”

Daniël spends the night at his parents’. It’s silly beyond words, considering that he left his

parental home years ago, but it feels right and proper that he spend his last hours as an official

bachelor in the folds of his family. He insists on Steve also not being alone, and it’s Matthew who

readily volunteers to stay the night at the small apartment that Daniël kept when he moved to

Kinbridge because he saw little benefit in selling the debt free property and it never hurts to have

something to go back to. He hasn’t gone back in more than a year, obviously, and the little Dutch

hideaway never got used.

Just for the fun of it, a bunch of the other guys decide to make a quick, and very loud,

appearance to bemoan Steve’s last night as a free man. No stag night? That’s not an excuse.

They’re all gone now, back to the hotel in Rotterdam to get some sleep before the big day;

Francesco and Dag and Neil and Niko and Gabrysz and the others. Only Matthew and Gael have stayed

behind, and Gael is standing in the doorway to get his coat too. Dallying.

“You might just as well stay the night,” Steve says and he knows he has gone too far as soon as

the words leave his mouth.

But Gael sits down again, without saying anything, being far too intelligent, too insightful to

not understand what Steve is implying.

Matthew doesn’t react at all, not even when Gael takes his mobile and calls Doncia to tell her

he will spend the night at Daniël’s apartment. “She’s fine with it; the girls are having a chick flick

night anyway. I’ll have to get up early, to get to the hotel and change.”

“That’s okay, lad.” Matthew sounds like he has said those exact words dozens of times.

For a long moment, the three of them are sitting rigidly, separated by more than actual space.

In silence. Matthew and Gael are next to each other on the two seater couch, stiffened in their socially

acceptable distance.

Then, suddenly, Gael smiles and stretches his hand out to Matthew to touch his arm.

Steve can’t help but notice how fragile they look.

“You’ve known for a long time, haven’t you?” Matthew asks.

Steve nods. “When I started to recognise human voices again, even before I understood what

was actually being said. But it was never about what you said anyway. I would never have guessed if

...”

“No one knows. Not even she does.” Gael moves his fingers a few millimetres over Matthew’s

arm. “She knows everything about me, but not this. And so she knows nothing.”

“On some days, the silence weighed so heavily it felt like it would kill all love,” Steve says. “I

didn’t even get it on a rational level at that time. I thought it was how it was supposed to be. That love

doesn’t need to be recognised by others to stay alive. That it was all between Danny and me and no

one else.”

“And now you know the truth.” Gael shrugs.

“We were afraid to express our true feelings and thoughts in words, not only to the outside

world, but also to each other. To face the truth about what was happening between us. As long as we

didn’t talk about it, it wasn’t there. And still he sat with me and waited and never left me …” Steve’s

voice trails off. “You want me to ask you how long? The two of you, I mean.”

Matthew frowns, and then a smile breaks through. “Right from the start. I had no idea, of

course. Didn’t want to know either. One day, after months, he asked me a question. One single

question.”

“You do realise we are in love with each other?” Gael says softly, his hand now finally

touching Matthew’s. “And then you said ...”

“Fuck, we’re in deep shit.”

“And you gave me our first kiss.”

It’s as if there’s a veil being lifted from their faces. A mask has been taken down. He has just

as few illusions as them about tomorrow, about their near future, but at least this can’t be taken away

from them. Their love has been witnessed.

Matthew sighs deeply. “So, that’s it. You’ve seen it. Now you know, and Daniël, of course. No

secrets between you the two of you, I understand.”

“I didn’t tell him, he discovered it on his own.”

Matthew frowns. “We’re not getting obvious, are we?”

“I doubt it. No, Daniël became very aware of the people around him because of what happened

with Steve,” Gael reassures him.

“It must be hard for you, tomorrow.” Steve almost regrets saying the words.

“It’s not about us, but about you and Dan,” Matthew reacts a bit too fast. “You think this

started the night you were brought into the hospital? Or when the gaffer introduced me to Gael? I’ve

known about that part of myself since I was a boy. I simply thought it didn’t matter because only

football mattered. And girls were okay, too, in a way. She’s a good girl, can’t blame her for doing

anything wrong. I just never reckoned with love.” He shrugs helplessly. “During some games I hope

and pray some big defender, compensating for his lack of talent with brute force, stomps on my ankle

and it’s over and done with. And this sport and this club mean so much to me ...”

Thus far no mentioning of his family...

“I won’t ever stop being a father, that’s what I’ll always be. My marriage? It couldn’t be saved

on the wedding day itself; it won’t ever be more than it is, even if I stayed with her until the day one

of us dies. Even if Gael moved to another club and we never saw see each other again. Because Gael

cannot be undone.”

Gael’s hand is now fully resting into Matthew’s. “I guess I can repeat Matthew’s words about

always being a father and no longer being a true partner to the mother of my son. If I ever was. And

yes, it will be hard tomorrow, but also wonderful and about hope and love. Without you and Dan, I’m

not even sure there would still be an us.”

Matthew continues. “But now, no matter how hard it gets on some days, we remember what the

two of you went through and we know we can deal with whatever we have to deal with. I just wish it