I’d been in London for a few months, and while I’d made a couple of new friends in Heather and Lucy, I was still feeling pretty lonely. So when Miles called and asked if he could come for a visit for a few days, I jumped at the chance.

Miles was going to arrive any time now, having got a cab from Euston station. I’d spent the morning getting the place ready. Unlike our apartment in Glasgow, I only had the one bedroom here but the sofa could fold out into a bed if I had anyone come to stay. Not that Miles and I hadn’t shared a bed before, and I was hoping that during his stay we might get to share it again, for old times’ sake.

When the buzzer rang to announce someone had arrived downstairs, I was expecting it to be Miles. I lifted the receiver, my finger hovering over the button to release the door, when I heard another familiar voice.

“Hi David, it’s me,” Olly’s chirpy voice came through the intercom. Once a week Olly had been dropping by unannounced to see me, it was getting a bit ridiculous. I think he was hoping to wear me down and quite honestly there were times when I really thought it might be working. But then I’d get home from a particularly rough client and I’d remember all the reasons for pushing him away.

“How many times Olly, go home, I’m not good for you,” I said, trying to hold my temper. He was a good kid, and I did like him, but I couldn’t allow myself to let him in. 

Our one-time only arrangement had already tipped into two-times when he’d turned up late one night. He’d made a really good argument about it not being safe for a ‘cute little twink like him’ to be roaming the streets late at night. It didn’t occur to him that he’d wandered those streets just to get to mine in the first place. I was feeling particularly lonely at the time, so I let him in and it was nice. It was better than nice, it was amazing.

In another life, I could really see us having our happily ever after, but it could never work. Not while I was an escort, and who else would hire me with my career history. I could hardly kiss him goodbye over our morning coffee and then go off and let some dirty old man pound me into next week before coming home to dinner.

“But David,” he whined.

“Look Olly, now is not a good time, just, just go home,” I sighed exasperated.

When I got no further response, I hoped he got the message and put down the receiver. I went back to tidying and when the intercom buzzed again, I let out a frustrated growl thinking it was him again. I lifted the receiver with a arsey, “Yes!”

But it wasn’t Olly, it was Miles who giggled, “You never were a morning person were you David.”

Laughing, I replied, “Sorry Miles, come on up.” Pressing the release to let him in. Taking one last look around, I opened the door just as he was stepping out of the lift. As he got nearer I held out my arms and we shared a bone-crushing hug, we’d both missed each other so much. After living together for eight years and seeing each other almost every day, it was such a difficult adjustment to suddenly not see each other at all.

I looked up over Miles shoulder and saw Olly, staring at us with his jaw dropped before he dashed off into the stairwell. “Shit,” I said, releasing Miles as I headed towards the lifts to try to beat Olly to the ground floor. I called back to Miles, “Make yourself at home, I’ve just got to sort something.”

Not hearing if he replied, as soon as the lift doors opened, I jumped inside and hammered the button for the ground floor. The ride down felt like it was taking forever and just as the doors opened I saw Olly running from the stairwell. “OLLY WAIT!” I called, “Damn you’re fast,” I said to myself, as I raced to catch him up.

I managed to grab hold of his arm just as he reached the front door, “Get off me,” he tried to shout through the tears that were now falling down his face.

“Olly, please let me explain,” I said softly, without letting go of his arm in case he tried to run again.

Muffled by his sobs, he looked at me, those big brown eyes full of sadness, and said, “You should have just told me you have a boyfriend.”

“ Boyfriend ? Oh,” I shook my head, “Olly, Miles isn’t my boyfriend. We’re just friends, that’s all. I wasn’t lying before when I told you I don’t have boyfriends Olly,” I said, trying to comfort him. He was shaking now as he sobbed, I tried to pull him into a hug but he shook me off.

“Can we go up to my apartment and talk, Olly. I’ll tell you anything you want to know, but can we talk,” I asked, hoping it wasn’t too late. I didn’t know what I was planning to say, but I needed him to know it truly was all to do with me and nothing to do with him.

“No, I can’t go up there, I can’t,” he cried.

“Okay, it’s okay,” I tried to say soothingly, “Look there’s a sofa over here, let’s sit down at least. Please.” He nodded and I guided him to the sofa that was in the corner of the lobby. I took a deep breath and hesitantly started, “Olly, I can’t really explain exactly why I don’t date. But I don’t date, anyone, ever. I know it’s going to sound like a cliche but it really isn’t you Olly, it’s all me. You are amazing, both times we were together I had so much fun with you. But that’s all we ever could be, some fun, Olly.”

“Then why can’t we just have fun then?” He asked, those gorgeous eyes filled with hope.

I looked down at my lap and sighed, “I can’t do that either, not to you Olly. I think I could really fall for you, and that wouldn’t be fair to you Olly.”

“Why not?” He pouted.

I rubbed the back of my neck, hoping it might relieve some of the tension that I could feel there. 

“It’s…complicated,” was the best response I could manage.

“BULLSHIT!” He shouted. “You say you think I’m amazing, you admit we are good together and that YOU could fall for ME. And when I ask why, all you’ll tell me is it’s FUCKING COMPLICATED!”

“My life, my work, Olly, it just…it would never work. I’d end up hurting you and I couldn’t bear to do that to you Olly,” I pleaded.

“What could your work have to do with it, it’s just an excuse. People have jobs and still manage to date, what could you possibly do that’s any different to them?”

“Olly, I…I, I can’t say. You’d look at me differently and…and I couldn’t bear that.”

Olly stood up, “Forget it, I’m out of here.”

I panicked, I didn’t want him to go, still thinking I didn’t want him. My mouth opened before my brain had a chance to catch-up and I shouted across the room between us, “I’M A PROSTITUTE!”

He stopped still, his back towards me. What have I done?

He turned slowly, walked back to the sofa and collapsed next to me, stunned into silence. Neither of us said anything, I didn’t know if I could even find the words to say anything. It felt like forever before he finally spoke again, his voice barely a whisper, “You’re a… prostitute ?”

I sighed, “Yes Olly, that’s why we can never be together. I don’t date, no , I can’t date. Because dating means commitment, and cherishing the one you’re with, and no matter how much I want to cherish you, Olly, and I hope you believe that I do, I can’t give you the commitment that you deserve.”

“What about what I want? You say a relationship is all about commitment, but not all relationships are. And who’s to say what commitment should look like for us? Why can’t we try, why can’t you let me in and let us try?”

I shook my head at how simple he was making it sound. He continued, “You don’t love the people that book you, do you? It’s just work right?”

I nodded, uncertain I could find my voice if I tried to speak.

“So why not let that be the distinction, let us be emotionally committed, but physically open?”

How did everything he say just sound so simple?  It wasn’t that simple. Was it? “You’d end up resenting me, and I couldn’t bear to do that to you.”

“So you’d rather just be sad and alone?” He asked, looking defeated.

He stood up, looked me straight in the eye and asserted, “I’m not giving up on you David,” before he strolled out of my apartment building.