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i.
As soon as John’s van pulls up on the driveway, Chas is at the passenger side door, pulling it open and ushering him out.
He loves his family, really, but he just wants to rest. John’s idea of a honeymoon involved mountains and hiking boots, which - well. Significantly different to his last honeymoon, which he’s trying (and failing) not to think about.
He’d take sun, sea and sex any day.
It is nice, he supposes. Being welcomed back by his family, by people who love him, plus a few stragglers who had heard about the money Cain had put behind the bar.
(He’s still not sure what’s gotten into Cain recently.)
But.
But he can’t help himself, can he? He’s never been able to.
He scans the room, vision zeroing in on each of the stragglers, but Robert isn’t there.
Which. He’s more surprised about that than he should be, really. He told Robert to stay away - but he also knows that Robert has never done anything he’s told to.
He didn’t want Robert to be here, but he was expecting it.
That’s the only reason he’s looking for him.
Eventually, he catches Vic in a quiet moment.
“Hey,” he says, glancing over his shoulder just to make sure no one is listening. “Where is he? Finally got the hint?”
He can see the moment her face changes. From casually happy, to something tight and twisted.
“Oh,” she breathes. “You don’t know.”
“Know what?” He asks dumbly. He doesn’t have a clue.
“Rob’s back inside,” she says, like breaking bad news. “He got arrested the day you got married.”
“What?” He says. He feels numb.
“For skipping his probation meeting,” she explains quietly. “He got picked up at the bus stop.”
“Well — how long is he going to be inside this time?” Aaron asks.
“I don’t know,” she murmurs, giving him a tense smile. “At least you know he won’t be bothering you.”
“Yeah,” he whispers, but the thought doesn’t comfort him at all.
ii.
He hears about Robert’s return to the village through the grapevine, no matter how much he tries to avoid the topic.
He isn’t sure why Robert’s coming back again. It didn’t exactly go well the first time (or the time before that).
John’s gone all weird and tense, so he must have heard too. Aaron hates what it’s done to them.
Still. He can’t help but look around corners and up lanes when he’s in the village, desperate for a flash of blond hair.
He doesn’t see him for a while, though. Vic tells him that he’s staying with her, back in the box room that he spent so many months in before the pub and The Mill.
Weirdly, Mack tells him that they went for a drink in town, too. Aaron’s not sure when they became friends — or how.
Eventually, he’s having a quiet pint after a long day of hauling scrap, tucked away in a booth with only his phone and his thoughts for company, when Mack comes bundling in with Robert attached at his hip.
They’re laughing at something, Mack’s thick accent ringing out across the pub, but Aaron can only stare at the taut line of Robert’s throat as he throws his head back.
He doesn’t catch himself in a moment of want.
It’s Robert that catches him.
He looks up and lifts his pint to his mouth, eyes meeting Aaron’s and then looking away just as quickly.
He doesn’t look smug.
There’s just — nothing.
And that’s worse than something, anything.
iii.
Robert buys back into the haulage firm after Jimmy decides he’s had enough. It reminds him, apparently, of Will too much, and Robert is vindictive enough to take advantage of that and get a decent price for it.
Or so Aaron’s mum tells him, anyway.
And even if she hadn’t, he’d know, because Robert’s struck up something of an alliance with Caleb. That shouldn’t surprise anyone, because those two men are weirdly similar. Aaron almost finds it comforting.
Almost. Because Robert and Home James means that he’s back to working in the cabin again, and even though he has set up a small dedicated space in Vic’s front room, sometimes working from home just doesn’t cut it. He has to come in, and more often than not, it’s the days that Aaron is in, too.
He doesn’t get much done on those days.
Memories flood his brain like flashbacks. Some people might call it PTSD, but Aaron lets himself take a moment to enjoy them.
Robert, back pressed against the wall, his hands in Aaron's hair. Flicking bunched up notes at each other while Jimmy grumbles about working with children. Soft kisses handed over with mugs of steaming tea, and going home together at the end of the day.
He'd trained himself not to miss it, but the proximity is starting to undo all of that.
Robert's been silently working away for hours, spinning in his chair and facing the wall every time he takes a call, and then diligently looking down again when he hangs up. Aaron appreciates that.
The next time Robert looks up, Aaron finds himself staring at him. And Robert doesn't look away.
Aaron smiles, and gets a tiny one reflected in return.
Maybe – maybe this village is big enough for both of them.
iiii.
Something's happened to John. Turned him frantic, panicky. Aaron's never known him to be like that – he's always been calm and collected, the peace in Aaron's anxiety.
Not now, though.
Mack keeps making pointed comments about this sudden change of personality being coincidentally around the same time as Nate's body being pulled from the lake, but Aaron thinks that's ridiculous.
John would never. Aaron knows he wouldn't.
But that doesn't change the fact he's changed.
They're having dinner in the pub when Aaron says something, off-hand and unthinking, about PC Swirling's seemingly ever-presence. It's honestly nothing.
"Would you stop?" John snaps, loud and brittle. Aaron looks up with a frown.
"What?" Aaron says. "I didn't mean anything by it, I just–"
"You're constantly pecking my head! Stop talking about it!" John says. His voice grows even louder.
"Are you okay?" Aaron asks softly, like defusing a bomb.
"Leave me alone," John says through gritted teeth. "You know, everything I've done for you, for us, and you can't even give me space when I ask for it. You're so selfish."
And with that, he pushes his chair back with a loud screech and storms out of the pub.
Aaron watches him go with nothing but pure confusion, his gaze tripping over Robert, sitting at the bar and watching them with concern in his eyes.
Okay?, Robert mouths.
Aaron nods, but that concern settles something in his chest.
v.
Aaron swallows back his pint, but it does nothing for the knot in his stomach. He's felt nauseous ever since John got sentenced, felt responsible, even though he's had nothing to do with him for months.
John killed his cousin, and Aaron married him like it was – nothing.
He knows he's quiet because everyone keeps asking if he's okay, checking on him, telling him it wasn't his fault.
It's a nice idea, but he knows they're just trying to make him feel better.
When it gets too much, he escapes into the beer garden and deposits himself on a bench, clutching his pint between both hands and staring into it like the answers to all of life's problems lie at the bottom of the glass.
"Hi," a familiar voice says, cautious and careful. Aaron lifts his head just as Robert sits next to him. "I was looking for you."
"Well, you found me," Aaron says. He forces a smile but there's not an ounce of humour in it.
"Are you okay?" Robert asks. "Stupid question, I know."
Aaron sighs. Robert is the one person he can't lie to.
"I just – I can't believe that I chose him, you know?" he mumbles. "You asked me to choose between him or us. And I chose him. I married him. I married a murderer."
"Well..." Robert says, then trails off. The words are unspoken but hang heavy in the silence: it's not the first time.
"No," Aaron says, fast and fierce. "You're not like him. You are nothing like him."
"Maybe it's in the family genes," Robert says lazily, but there's something in the creases of his face that shows he believes it more than he's letting on.
Silence ticks on between them.
"I should have chosen you," Aaron says suddenly, surprising even himself. "I should have chosen us, I should have stopped the wedding there and then. I'm sorry that I didn't."
Robert's hand, fingers so familiar, reach out and carefully prise Aaron's fist from around his pint. He holds his hand just as gently.
"We've got time," he says. "I'm not planning on going anywhere any time soon, and hopefully you aren't either. We've got time, Aaron. We've got a second chance at this. We can work it out."
"And we'll be happy?" Aaron whispers, bottom lip caught between his teeth.
"We'll be happier than we ever thought possible," Robert says sincerely.
That sounds like a promise.