The jackhammers pounded at the pavement, shaking the ground and throwing up fountains of dust. With such implements, mountains were reduced to molehills. And so, in vast, punching, echoing rumbles, the St James Centre fell. Over the carcass of twisted metal and concrete, the builders and their machinery swarmed, termitelike.

From where the window, McKenzie could see them scouring the ground. His left hand strayed to his right, to toy with the ring finger. He felt the groove where the engagement ring had been, and his hand rose instead to the scar across his left cheek.

“What’re you thinking, Mack?”

David’s voice broke the silence, making McKenzie jump.

“Oh… Nothing.” He trailed off. “About the centre, I suppose. That gap in the scenery is hideous.”

“Did you come over for any specific reason?” David held up a cup of tea, but Mack ignored it, mind suddenly racing.

“Oh, yes. I had a present for you.” McKenzie patted down his pockets, tugging out a book. “Here. It’s comic fantasy, like I promised. You’ll love it. I hope.” He laid the book down, and took the tea.

David turned to the window. “The scar on the landscape’s going to be horrible. But something will rise up in its place. The new St James, one would hope.”

As he spoke, McKenzie’s hand rose again unbidden to his left cheek. Absently, David reached out, and stopped its upward motion. His hand gripped Mack’s forearm gently. After a moment, he let go, and gestured to the sofa.

“Have a seat, man. Relax. Enjoy your tea. How are you doing?”

“Good. Good.” Mack took a mouthful of the scalding hot tea. “But…”

“Bereavement’s never easy.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m not bereaved. Nobody’s died.”

“Grief doesn’t always stem from death.”

Again, McKenzie reached for where the engagement ring had been. Again, it moved upwards to the scar. And once more, David reached out to stop the upward motion to the cheek.

“We all have scars, Mack. Some deeper than others. Some harder to see than others. We carry those scars forever. That’s the nature of a scar. It never really heals. It’s learning to live with it that’s the hardest. How did it happen?”

His hand lifted off McKenzie’s wrist.

“You want to know?” Mack’s voice choked.

“I want to know, man. Tell me.”

McKenzie met his gaze. He breathed in. He breathed out. Calm and steady, he started to speak.

“I loved him. I loved him more than I could say. It’s tired, it’s cliched, it’s hackneyed, but I don’t understand why. I was planning to marry him. I was planning to give him everything. Until, suddenly, he wasn’t there any more. Not the man I loved. Somewhere in his place was this cold reptile of a man. An actor, playing a role. Stepping into and out of his own skin with such ease. The man I loved had just… gone.

“And I kept thinking “It’s okay. I can rescue him. I can bring him back. I can make everything okay again. And I my energy into making it alright. I poured myself into being the best fiance, into papering over the cracks. I blinked back the tears as he looked right through me. Long-sleeved shirts hid the bruises on my arms. The mask of geniality hid the bruises on my soul. One day, I woke up, and not only was he not there, but neither was I. We’d both become actors in some insidious melodrama.

“I can’t even remember what that last fight was about. Sand on the carpet from his ridiculous models. Paint on the table. I turned to walk away from him. He grabbed my shoulder. I slapped him. The scalpel cut a straight line from my earlobe to my chin.”

McKenzie fell silent, and his hand once again rose to his cheek. David made no move to stop it. The silence in the room drew out into an elegy hanging over the entire city. The jackhammers had stopped. Gazing into the cup, he began to speak again.

“”I see it like that. A series of images. A photo-album. As though I were watching it from outside my own body, with all the emotion siphoned out of the tank.” He stood again, and crossed to the window gazing out at the wreckage of the St James Centre. “I loved him so very much.”

Behind, the sound of David getting to his feet. The few short footsteps. They stood side by side, looking out at the concrete carcass. “I love you, man.” David’s hand found McKenzie’s, and squeezed it once.