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The day of Nerea’s Tate show opening dawned cold and gloomy, the worst of London in November. It was the sort of ominous, depressing day that made Callum wonder if the sun had even risen behind the sheets of gray cloud that scudded across the sky.
This evening was going to be an experiment of sorts. Callum was happy to ignore random noises in tabloids and on the internet about his private life. But if the three of them were going to continue together in any capacity they needed to get used to being together in public and responding to whatever the result of that might be.
At Callum’s insistence — and over Jamie’s own objections that he’d be in the way — Jamie got ready for the evening at Callum and Nerea’s flat. Nerea, despite having far more to do to than Callum or Jamie to prepare for the evening, was ready first. She wore a sleeveless emerald green gown. Her hair was piled high on her head and long gold teardrops dangled from her ears. She spent the rest of the afternoon fluttering around the flat, handing Callum his cufflinks when he was sure he’d misplaced them and doing Jamie’s tie for him when he couldn’t quite manage the full Windsor she demanded.
“Is she normally this worried before these sorts of things?” Jamie muttered under his breath, as he surreptitiously tried to loosen his tie.
“She’s never had a show this high profile before,” Callum whispered back. “Most artists only get shows like this when they’re dead. Let her fuss.”
* * *
NERVOUS AS NEREA MIGHT have been back in the flat, Callum marveled when he handed her out of the car outside the Tate. She exuded nothing but calm and poise. When she turned a dazzling smile on Callum and wrapped her hand around his arm, he lost his breath. What on earth had he done to deserve such a rare and remarkable woman?
As she greeted photographers along the step and repeat banner and answered questions from arts reporters, he felt as awed as he had the first time he met her. She was all sly steel and warm confidence, her smile never faltering, even as she knew some of the media attention was simply a product of who she was married to. Callum expected she would curse to — or at — him about that later.
Jamie hung back, discreet but close at hand. Callum admired the way he was handling tonight. If their places had been reversed, Callum was sure he would have made a hash of it himself. But as the two of them waited on the sidelines for Nerea to catch them up, Jamie was charming the reporters. Each time they asked him too many questions about his own work, Callum watched admiringly as he deftly redirected their attention back to Nerea.
The three of them entered the part of the Tate hosting the show side-by-side. Callum had been to dozens of his wife’s exhibits before, but to see her work hung here was breathtaking. She may have been nervous earlier but he had no idea how she was so calm beside him now. He was grateful he got to enjoy his triumphs sitting down in the dark.
She looked up at the walls and walked in a small circle to take the moment in, and then looked at him with a smile, giddy and young. “Thank you for being here with me,” she said.
“Always.” He kissed her briefly, and she squeezed his arm.
Then she turned to Jamie. “There’s some people I’d like to introduce you to,” she said. “If you’re interested?”
Jamie beamed and offered Nerea his arm. Callum was sure Jamie would be interested in anything, so long as it involved Nerea. Callum smiled to himself and turned to pursue his own required networking.
Half an hour later he finally escaped an immensely dull conversation and nearly tripped over his best friend.
“Thom! How good to see you. I wasn’t sure you would make it.”
Thom took a gulp from a flute of champagne Callum suspected was not his first. “Neither was I. Give Nerea my regards, will you?”
“Tell her yourself, she’s around here somewhere.” He grabbed Thom by the elbow in hopes of steering him towards her, wherever she might have gone.
“Oh.” Thom stopped in his tracks. “There she is.”
And there Nerea was, standing in a little cluster of people. Jamie was at her elbow, looking charming and attentive. Piper was there too, as were Leigh and Sam. And, laughing at something Sam had just said, was Katherine, an artist herself, Nerea's friend, and Thom’s ex-wife.
“Ah,” Callum said. Perhaps this was not the best moment for them to join that particular conversation.
Piper glanced in their direction. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of them. Nerea had no doubt filled her in on the drama. Or perhaps Katherine had herself.
“I’ll catch up with you later?” Thom was ready to bolt.
“Yeah,” Callum said, dropping Thom’s arm. “Yeah, that’s fair.”
* * *
AN HOUR LATER CALLUM, Jamie, and Nerea huddled together in a corner. Nerea popped an hors d’oeuvre in her mouth from the plate Jamie had filled for them all. She still looked radiant, but Callum could see that the public performance of the event was wearing on her and Jamie both. Before he could say anything about it or ask what he could do to help, a man invaded their space. His suit was expensive but ill-fitting, and there was a sour expression on his face. He was a critic Callum vaguely recognized because Nerea had complained about him once. Too prone to gossip, she had said sharply. Nerea didn’t mind it about the movies, but she felt it was ridiculous regarding fine art.
“I didn’t know you had a son,” the man said, glancing between the three of them.
Unlike previous questions about his presence which Jamie had been able to answer vaguely, this was different. Unlike when it had happened at the airport, here, it required a correction, and it was going to be tricky.
“He’s not my son,” Nerea said easily.
The critic turned to Callum. “Is he yours?”
Callum was equal parts horrified and amused. “Ah, no. All three of my daughters are also all three of her daughters. Jamie is....”
The moment of truth had arrived, as clear as it was unexpected.
“My date,” Nerea said calmly.
Well, then. Forward we go.
The reporter’s eyebrows went up. So did Jamie’s. Callum smiled into his drink. As much as the three of them should have had more of a plan going into this evening, Nerea shocking people was always a delight.
A moment later, though, he wasn’t smiling and nobody was amused. Callum missed what, exactly, the critic had said. He just knew that Jamie’s face had darkened and Nerea looked alarmed.
“Would you have asked that question if she were a man?” Jamie asked. “Come to think of it, would you have asked Callum that if he said I was his date?”
The critic mumbled something, only somewhat abashed, but Jamie had just started to work himself into a full fury. Callum had never seen him like this. Maybe he should have intervened, but he was too entranced by Jamie's more than justifiable anger.
“Her kids are grown, so why does she have to worry about whether people think she’s a good mother?”
“Jamie,” Nerea said urgently. Callum could see her hand tightening on his arm, warning him, but Jamie either didn’t feel it or didn’t know what she meant.
He went on, his face flushed with anger. “And why should she worry about people calling her a whore ’cause she’s good at relationships?”
That was Callum's cue to step in.
“Jamie,” Callum leaned in as if he hadn’t heard any of what had just happened and wrapped his arm around Jamie’s shoulders, a smile on his face. “There are some people I want you to meet.”
He steered Jamie bodily away; Callum was certain that without intervention, Jamie would have taken a swing at the critic. Loyalty and honor were all well and good, but there were some things that were never acceptable no matter how deserved.
He watched with relief as Nerea, pale, moved from the scene of the confrontation to fold herself into another group of their friends. Reassured that she was taken care of, Callum continued to steer Jamie through the mingling crowd and out into a quiet, mostly abandoned corridor.
“What are we doing out here,” Jamie asked when Callum drew them to a halt. He blinked in the dim light as if he’d only just realized they were no longer in the middle of the exhibit and he was no longer yelling at someone.
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” Callum said, trying to keep his own rising anger in check. “But that is not how you deal with people like that.”
“But — ”
“I heard what he said,” Callum said, even if that was — strictly speaking — not true. He could guess well enough. He’d heard most of it all before. “And you need to not react that way.”
“I — ” Jamie said.
“I understand that the world is terrible to women,” Callum ran right over him, because this was not a debate. Or even a discussion. This was a statement about Nerea and how she needed to exist in the world.
Jamie still looked belligerent, so Callum let his own anger and disappointment come through in his voice and his bearing.
“I understand that Nerea’s life, in particular, in public, can be very hard. But you cannot call people out like that. That is not what we do.”
“What do you mean, not what we do. I can do as I like. Just because you’re not willing to stand up for her in public and risk pissing people off. And you both just outed me, to everybody, saying I’m dating her. So don’t tell me what I’m allowed or not allowed to say.”
Callum went very still. His emotions warred. He was furious with Jamie, worried about Nerea, and now wracked with guilt. They had all made errors, and what the consequences of those errors would be, Callum did not know. Now, however, was not the time for apologies. Jamie needed to calm down, and the three of them needed to get through this as a united front. Everything else would have to wait.
“This is not about me,” Callum finally said. “This is not even about Nerea. This is about she, and I, and the unit we have been in public and in private for the last thirty years. The one that has allowed us to live the life we want to live. You now share that unit with us, but that doesn’t change how Nerea and I are together or how she and I deal with these matters. And I’ll thank you not to make a scene that only puts her more in a spotlight that she doesn’t want and doesn’t deserve.”
“But — ” Jamie said again.
“And if you didn’t want to be outed, you shouldn’t have accepted our invitation tonight.”
“That’s not fair!”
“Most things aren’t. We’ll talk at home.” Callum spun away before his own anger got the better of him.
* * *
THE REST OF THE PARTY, not to mention the cab ride back to the flat, was tense, but Callum hoped they could go upstairs, hash matters out with Jamie, and go to bed. The less they dwelt on this mess, the better.
What he was not expecting was Jamie to march up the stairs and into the flat, whirl around on his heel, and glare at them with the air of an angry puppy. It was adorable, but that didn’t mean the situation wasn’t serious.
“You don’t get to talk to me like that in public,” he snapped at Callum.
“I didn’t talk to you like anything in public. I took you aside and we had a private conversation because you don’t get speak to anyone the way you did,” Callum said. “But it will be better for all of us to let the matter drop until we’re all calmer and can discuss it rationally.”
“Calmer! You’re the one who yelled at me in a corridor at the Tate Modern. After outing me!” Jamie turned to Nerea, his voice pleading. “You heard what he said about you, I couldn’t let him — ”
“When a man says those things to me,” Nerea interrupted him, “Callum draws him off to the side of the room and talks to him, quietly. He tells him that he understands where he’s coming from, but that there are ways one talks to a lady, and that is not it. I know it may seem gendered and unfair to you. That’s because it is, but it is what works. And it frightens them.”
“You gave me this whole speech about how you’re not Callum’s property!”
“I’m not,” Nerea said calmly.
Jamie turned to Callum. “But you want me to just roll over when people say terrible things to her face.”
“You’re not listening!” Callum snapped. His patience had limits, and Jamie had finally surpassed them. Jamie trying to play him and his wife off each other was also profoundly displeasing.
“I don’t want to be a poster woman,” Nerea said. “For polyamory or open marriages or politics or anything. I want to paint, as I did before I met Callum, as I did before any sort of normal life became impossible. I couldn’t even finish university! But I don’t need your protection, or Callum’s. I want to do my work and have my loves and deal with these things quietly.”
“I can’t believe you! If you want to live quietly, why would you say I was your date?”
“Because you were. Because it needn’t be a big deal,” Nerea said.
Callum bit his lip so he wouldn’t comment harshly on Nerea’s reasonable but completely wishful thinking. He didn’t need to be fighting with her as well.
“Well it doesn’t fucking work like that, does it?!” Jamie hollered at her.
“Not when you make it harder,” Callum said.
“I am not the problem here.” Jamie looked at Callum, looked at Nerea, and then strode to the door.
“Where are you going?” she asked, standing from where she had leaned, nearly slumped, against the arm of the couch.
“To make trouble elsewhere, I guess.” Jamie’s usually sunny face twisted in anger as he yanked the door open. When he slammed it after him, a picture frame on the counter toppled over.