Ragnor bought the house in Blue Heaven on the day I was born. That was twenty-eight years ago and it has not lost its impact and charm to this day. Directly on the beach with a private entrance, it was always our gem to get away from the hustle and bustle and the noisy fast life in the big city. Mum spent a few days with me in this house every summer. Ragnor was there every year. I remember sitting in the warm sand with Ragnor holding my mum protectively. How they talked softly to each other and Ragnor kept brushing the hair from her face that the wind was trying to blow in all directions. My father always stayed in New York. There were days when Mum was mine alone. I didn't have to share it with my dad or work. All your attention was mine and it was always a nice and relaxing time. For both of us.

Dad and Ragnor were never close friends. Ragnor once told me that in college my dad believed he and Mum were a couple. I found the idea so absurd that I began to laugh out loud. Ragnor found this less funny and told a story of a young man who had just started to publicly admit his homosexuality. And this very man fell in love with the homophobic backwoods asshole, my father's best friend. Daniel Foley. Even with the years and changing partners at Ragnor's side, things didn't get any better. My father had never forgiven him for simply disappearing like that, leaving his only college adopted son alone with his terminally ill mother. Neither do I. And every year, on the anniversary of my mum's death, we don't just get uninhibitedly drunk. Every year we stand at the water's edge and scream all our frustration and all the hatred for Asmodeus Bane against the waves on the roaring sea. It will be the same this year.

And like every year, the house welcomes us with its cozy warmth and the smell of roast lamb and a yellow-orange fire that crackles in the fireplace. This house is empty most of the year. Mary-Ann, a kind-hearted soul and an extremely good cook, takes care in Ragnor's absence that a fresh sea breeze regularly blows through the rooms and that the dust of time does not stick to the furniture. The entire house is kept in innocent white and down-to-earth brown. Lovingly coordinated details, the same pieces of furniture in the bedrooms and photographs of the lighthouse at the harbor or the roaring sea round off the harmonious, homely picture.

"Good evening Mr. Fell. The meal is already ready", Mary-Ann greets us beaming with joy. And since she is not my employee and I like her very much, I am not afraid to pull her into a tight hug and thank her for the effort she makes. So today and as every time, she looks at me with red cheeks, embarrassed and gives me a joking, loving pat on the arm.

"Oh, Mr Bane. You are a charmer and a painter." "Lightwood", I say and watch with a suppressed grin as Mary-Ann's facial expressions change. From amazed to pondered and finally arrived at knowing.

"You got married?", she exclaims euphorically and pulls her arms up in jubilation. I nod silently and am happy that she is so happy for me. But suddenly her expression changes and she looks around the room nervously.

"Oh. I only cooked for two. And I only cooked for two. I'm sorry. I didn't know that. Mr. Fell didn't mention that there were three of you and I ..."

"All good my love", I interrupt her apologetic flow and gently place a hand on her arm.

"I came alone. Alec is in New York. And everything is perfect as always. The tree looks great and the food smells wonderful", I say and Ragnor nods in agreement.

"Ice blue and silver. As we discussed. Thank you very much. For everything", says Ragnor.

"Sure. Maybe next year? Or in summer when the temperatures are more pleasant?" Her big brown googly eyes beam at me and time and again I regret it very much that this kind-hearted, friendly creature has not yet found the right partner.

"We'll see what happens", I answer with a smile. The many questions that hover over Mary-Ann's brown head are mentally mixed with my answers and we both giggle as we realize that we were probably thinking the same thing.

"You really want to know how we met, right?"

"Yes", she says and nods her head wildly.

"And how the wedding was." I like to know it, too. But there is still emptiness in my head when I try to recall the events of that night.

"It's a long story. Alec came into my life unexpectedly", I say and Mary-Ann stares at me in disbelief with her big googly eyes and open mouth.

"I'd like to hear the story once", she says and disappears into the kitchen with a smile. I'm pretty sure that a movie made especially for her is playing in her head. With Alec and me in the lead roles and her version of what happened in Vegas.

The food is a dream. The lamb is wonderfully tender and roasted pink. The green beans are crisp, coated in spicy bacon and the fine butter taste melts on the tongue. The aromatic sauce, dark and powerful. The aroma of rosemary tickles my tongue and stimulates the receptors in my head. Together, the individual components create a well-rounded picture and a perfect Christmas dinner. At least for Ragnor and me. Alec told me not long ago that his family always serves classic food. Turkey stuffed with apple, chestnut and onion filling, served with mashed potatoes and sweet potato casserole. For Alec as a vegetarian, baked vegetables and corn bread with it. Rounded off by a wonderfully fragrant warm apple pie, which Mary-Ann bakes for us every year. My mum loved roast lamb. It is our tradition and so it is always with us to a certain extent. The sweetness of the grapes from the red wine, the full-bodied, strong nutty aroma, a hint of cherry and the taste of Alec's wine-soaked lips. I keep thinking of Alec and his words. Ragnor gives me the freedom of silence. He seems to notice that something is bothering me. Because actually we never stay silent while eating. Instead, the part of the evening that we always spend as a couple and buried in memories begins at this time of the year.

"What is it that worries you Magnus?", asks Ragnor after we have finished eating and, as every year, have taken our seats in front of the fireplace. Ragnor is seated in a large, soft, leather-covered armchair with a high back and padded armrests. A glass of vodka in hand and the flickering light of the flames cast shadows on his face that make him appear wiser but not older.

"Alec", I say and reach for the bottle to pour the mind numbing clear liquid into my glass. The now empty bottle lands on the glass table next to me with a loud rumble and the noise makes me wince slightly.

"... the glass fell on the floor and shattered into a thousand pieces ..." Alec's words from then come unexpectedly and make me sigh loudly. Even today his words hurt when I think about them. And still today I have the lovely taste of his lips on mine when I think about it and press my tongue against the roof of my mouth. Then I taste the aroma of the wine and Alec and the bliss of the first kiss.

"How's it going? Do you just fuck or do you talk about yourself?", asks Ragnor frankly and without shame. Because we are not. We never were. There was no distance between us, just honest and frank words. Always. Relentless, but never hurtful.

"We'll fuck. If you want to know exactly. Alec and I have decided to start something casual. I told you that."

"And how long does it last now?", asks Ragnor.

"Five months. Plus minus a few days."

"And how long do you want to go through with this? Until the divorce and then just carry on as before?", he asks and the mockery in his voice literally jumps at me and spasmodically sucks on my heart. Ragnor's opinion is important to me. Just like Raphael and Andrew's.

"Of course not", he answers his question himself without further ado.

"You don't know how to go on, do you?"

"Alec gave me an ultimatum", I reply and leave his question unanswered. The alcohol has already spread over a large area in my body and the fog of weightlessness spreads its blanket over me.

"Alec loves me", I hear myself say Ragnor growls and the crack of the burning wood is the only sound that fills the room. The sound of the raging waves reaches my ear muffled.

"That cannot be overlooked", whispers Ragnor.

"Alec is a man's dream. And I don't understand you. I'm honest. I'm jealous. Of you. What you have with Alec. The future that I see clearly. But you don't."