A Healing Story (Stories Book 3) Page 5

  “Okay.”

  I take one last drink and set the bottle on the counter. “Come with me.”

  I have to brush past him to leave the room, he sets his hand on my arm, “wait.”

  “What?” I whisper, looking up into his eyes, the piercing gaze shadowed by my dark kitchen.

  Matthias leans down and brushes his mouth against mine. “Thank you,” he says against my lips.

  “You’re welcome.” I kiss him back, it’s nice for the handful of seconds that it lasts.

  He pulls away first, “lead the way.” His voice is soft, uncertain.

  I show him the bathroom and hand him a spare toothbrush before going to find sheets for the bed.

  “Good night,” I kiss him once more outside the door to the bedroom before retreating to my room.

  It’s a long, restless night as I toss and turn, my mind centered on the man just a room away.

  I’m not surprised to find that he’s gone when I get up for work. I kick myself when I feel the first stirrings of disappointment. I’m fast on my way to heartbreak, but I don’t know how or even if I want to stop it.

  Matthias.

  I took Neil’s advice and sent a card to the studio. It’s the coward’s way out really. The only thing I can do is hope he doesn’t throw it in the trash, though knowing Jameson he’d more than likely burn it, he’s always been a little dramatic.

  The rest of the week flies by and though I want to, I don’t contact Neil. To be fair, he doesn’t try to get ahold of me either. That could be because he has better insight into this thing than I do. He knows I’m running scared. He laid all his cards out there from the beginning. He won’t chase me and try to make me see the light, even if he knows that’s what I really want.

  Change has to start with me.

  If only it were that easy.

  I skip dinner with my parents for the second week in a row. I shut my phone off so that Marta can’t contact me. I’m not worried about her showing up here, she’s always had other people doing her dirty work for her, and I’m not scared of Rodney. I revoked his access to my apartment long ago and told the front desk that I don’t want to be disturbed.

  I considered opening the new bottle of bourbon I got, but I decided not to slip into old habits quite yet. I barely escaped my twenties without being checked into a rehab center. Don’t want to do the same thing in my thirties. Especially if I’m supposed to be a new person and all.

  Since I’m not diving into the nightmare that is my family or the bottom of a bottle, I pull my laptop out and get some work done.

  Making money off other people’s wealth is easy if you know how to play the game. You just have to spend years sitting in on boring as fuck lectures and then more years interning for arrogant pricks.

  It’s been years since I graduated college, longer since I left high school, and to this day I cannot tell you when it was decided I would work in finance, when I decided I liked investing and outsmarting the market.

  If I’m being honest I never really got the choice. It was handed to me by Marta on a silver platter and I was too self-absorbed and blinded to understand that. I spent years resenting Jameson for putting me on my path.

  I don’t feel that way anymore. The resentment is still there of course. It won’t ever go away, at least not when we’re at odds with one another, but the guilt is there too.

  I wasn’t enough for him then and I’m sure as hell am not enough now. No matter what Neil tries to say.

  Matthias. Age 23.

  “I need you to do something for me,” Marta says.

  “Of course, Mother.” It’s the only reply I’ve ever been allowed to give. I applaud myself for not allowing the resentment that’s built up this summer to bleed through.

  “I need you to drop Jameson off at school. Make sure he gets to his dorm okay.” Translation: make sure he doesn’t try to run off and find Alexander Breneman.

  “Where is he going again?”

  “South Carolina. I was able to pull some strings and get him into Coker. It’s not the best, but for a liberal school it will do. Close enough to keep an eye on him, far enough away that our reputation won’t be damaged if he relapses.”

  I try not to flinch at her choice of words. My head throbs and all I want to do is go up to my bedroom and drown myself in the bottle of whiskey I pilfered from the liquor cabinet.

  “School starts next week, you’ll escort him Saturday. Less time he has alone before he gets too busy the better.”

  “Yes, Mother. Email me the itinerary.”

  “You’ll have it in an hour.”

  I nod and she wordlessly dismisses me. I head up to my bedroom as quickly as possible without running. Father is with Jameson at the cabin, Mother didn’t want to take any chances, so it’s just the two of us in the house. But Rodney is always around, and things are tremulous enough that if I’m not careful I’ll be on Mother’s radar again.

  Once my bedroom door is shut—not locked of course because they took away that privilege while we were gone—I grab my stolen booze and head into the bathroom. Thankfully they didn’t change this doorknob so I lock it, then sit in the tub and drink my frustrations away.

  Fucking Jameson. He’s eighteen now, grown enough to take himself to college. I did. There’s no coddling in this house. Only expectations.

  Unless your Jameson.

  The alcohol burns going down but I relish it. It’s better than thinking about how even after doing everything they ask of me. Never arguing or fighting back. Even when my entire life was being planned out for me. I still get the shit end of the stick.

  But when precious Jameson has the audacity to spit in their face, what do they do? Send him to a fucking art school. One where he’d be able to learn whatever he wants.

  Disgusting fucking faggot. Not even coming out caused him any great harm. Oh sure, spending the summer with Wacko Jim was no fun for him. But I’m the one who suffered the most. I’m the one who had to put up with all of it.

  From my mother’s icy disdain to Wacko’s delusional beliefs that he could pray away the gay in both of us. Never mind that I’m as straight as a fucking arrow.

  Jameson is the one who decided to act on his sexual orientation while still in our mother’s clutches, but I’m the one facing the most repercussions. He was still a minor, he had at least the illusion of not having a choice.

  I’m the one who had my freedom stripped away.

  And for what? Because my brother likes dick? Who fucking cares? I didn’t, not until it ruined my life.

  Matthias. Age 34.

  I’m too old to be waking up in bathtubs.

  I told myself I wouldn’t drink last night. That was a lie. Work only brought up reminders of how much I hate my chosen path, but it’s too late to change it.

  Those thoughts spiraled into how much shit Jameson and I have to wade through, and why we have issues in the first place. That summer was the turning point, but it wasn’t the beginning. My resentment started long before. Only at the time, I didn’t understand that childhood jealousies would cultivate into adulthood trauma.

  Since I did some work yesterday I called in today. There’s no way I’m able to sit at a computer all day. Not with the way my whole body is protesting my contortionist act. It’s been years since I needed to drink in the tub. I save that for when I need a small space to ground myself.

  I throw back some Tylenol and stretch out on the bed. My phone somehow made it to the bedside table last night, I plug it in and wait for it to get enough charge to turn on.

  There’s a call from Marta but I delete the voicemail without even listening to it. There are a handful of texts from Neil and I almost delete those without responding. But I’m trying not to be a dick and all.

  Being a good person is so much work.

  Neil: Wanna get together tonight?

  Neil: Bas and I will be at our usual spot around 8 if you wanna join us.

  Neil: Are you okay?

  Neil: Please don�
��t ignore me.

  Neil: Way to be a dick, dick.

  Neil: Can you at least tell me you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere?

  Matthias: Not a ditch. Bathtub. Don’t recommend it.

  I’m not surprised he responds right away. Even before eight on his day off.

  Neil: Where was this sage wisdom when I was nineteen and talked Bas into letting me tag along with them to Vegas?

  I snort.

  Neil: I’m assuming you’re playing hooky since your porcelain bed couldn’t have been comfortable. Breakfast?

  Matthias: I can meet you in an hour.

  Neil.

  Matthias’s gait is off as he heads to the table I’m sitting at. Guess he wasn’t kidding about the tub.

  I pour him some coffee and slide the mug over to his side of the table. He groans as he slides into the booth but lifts the cup up in thanks before taking a healthy swig.

  “Good news is I don’t have a hangover even though I killed an expensive bottle of whiskey last night. Seems full-body pain is the key to not being a nauseous fuck.”

  I snort but don’t comment. Our waitress is the same from last week so she knows to keep our pot full and only comes back for our orders when we both push our menus to the side.

  “Jamie got something interesting in the mail the other day.”

  “Did he now?” Matthias shifts in the booth.

  “He did. Glad to see you took my advice.” He shifts again, trying to get comfortable. “Did you take anything?” I ask, concerned.

  “When I got up.”

  “How’d you end up in the tub?”

  He shrugs, “apparently drunk me forgot we’re not twenty anymore and wanted to reclaim our youth.”

  I laugh, “you talk like you’re ancient. How old are you?”

  “Thirty-four.”

  I shrug, “that’s not that bad. You’re only nine years older than me.”

  “I pegged you as younger.”

  I beam, “why thank you, kind sir. I’ll let Bas know that the face cleansing regimen they have me on works.”

  Matthias shakes his head in exasperation. I give him a genuine smile. If I have to take on my more extroverted and “trying too hard” persona in order to cheer him up then I will.

  We don’t talk for a bit after our food comes. Unlike the other silences between us, this one isn’t stilted or awkward.

  “Did my brother ever tell you what happened to us before he went to college?”

  “No,” I shake my head, “he doesn’t talk much about your family. Just that you’re an asshole and I should be careful of you going into the studio.” I try to smile to soften the blow of my words. “I’m sure Rhys knows, they share everything, but I don’t go sticking my nose where I’m not wanted.” Usually.

  The fact that I’m sitting here now with Matthias proves that I don’t always mind my own business.

  “It...it wasn’t good. I haven’t thought about it in years, but last night...well I didn’t end up in the tub by accident.” He blows out a breath and shoves his plate away.

  “You don’t have to tell me anything. We don’t know each other that well yet.”

  “It’s easier,” he replies. “I can get up and walk away from you. It won’t hurt so bad.”

  That stings but I understand what he’s saying. We owe each other nothing. I’m just the guy that can’t walk away from him while he’s hurting.

  I’m a fucking idiot.

  “I’m so confused,” he says softly.

  “That’s normal. There’s no user manual that says when you have to have your shit figured out. It’s okay to take your time.”

  “I’m not confused about my sexuality.” He confesses, “I’ve known for years, I just haven’t been willing to admit it. I don’t know what to do about it. Normally hooking up with someone helps keep the edge off, but lately it’s only made it worse.”

  I don’t respond because there’s nothing I can say to that. We only met because of one of those hookups. It wouldn’t be fair for me to judge him because I willingly went into the bathroom with him. In fact, I’ve done a lot worse in less sanitary places.

  “Do you want to come out?” I ask, voice gentle.

  “No,” he doesn’t hesitate. “I can’t. I can’t lose what I’ve spent my life trying to keep.”

  “Is anything truly worth your unhappiness?” I hold up a hand before he can speak. “I’m not judging. I understand that coming out is a big thing and happens at your own pace. But I also believe that you have to do what is best for you and from where I’m sitting, staying in the closet is only hurting you.”

  “And outing myself as a fucking faggot will make things better? I didn’t think you were so naïve.”

  I flinch. “Sometimes I see you for the decent person you are, then you go and say something like that and I see why Jamie warned me about you.

  “And before you try to say you’re just confused or whatever, we both know you know damn well what you’re doing.

  “I’m the one putting myself out there, opening myself up to be hurt by you because I don’t want you to be alone. You’re not the one taking all the risks here. And maybe it’s not fair of me to be asking this of you, especially when we just met, but dammit, it’s not fair to me either.

  “I want to help you, Matthias. But I can’t do it unless you stop this woe is me bullshit and allow me to see you, the real you. Not the one who hides behind the homophobic slurs and bigoted mindset. You’re not a closed-minded person, not if you were so willing to suck my dick two fucking weeks ago.

  “We don’t know each other, but I wouldn’t be here unless I wanted to change that. Maybe that does make me naïve but can you honestly tell me you don’t want my friendship?”

  “I thought I could do this but I can’t. You’re right. I want to hurt you. It’s easier than owning up to my shit. You don’t deserve it. Not when you’ve been so good to me these past few weeks. I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

  He pulls out his wallet and throws money on the table.

  “Matthias, don’t leave. I didn’t say any of that to make you leave.”

  He stands, “did you mean it?”

  “Every word.”

  “Then you know why this is for the best.”

  He walks away, still stiff from sleeping in the bathtub, but he manages to hold his head up high.

  So that’s that. I tried and failed.

  A stone sinks in my stomach. It’s better that we do this now before I get attached to him, but there’s a part of me whispering that letting him go is a mistake. I ignore it because I’m not about to chase after someone who clearly doesn’t want help.

  I’ll be here if he wants to try being friends, but I’m not holding my breath. I just hope something that I said got through to him. I don’t like the darkness that I’ve seen in his eyes. If nothing else, no one deserves to go through something like that, especially not alone.

  Sighing, I push my plate away and then finish my coffee. There’s nothing I can do now.

  Neil.

  “I don’t want some fresh-faced child who thinks they’re all that because they managed to graduate on time,” Rhys says, throwing himself dramatically onto a sofa.

  “I agree. I can call the head of the department and see if they know anyone who’s still looking for work. Someone qualified of course,” Jamie replies.

  “I wish Elsie were here.” Rhys pouts, “she knew what to do when it came to hiring. That’s how we got Noah.”

  Jamie snorts, “even if we weren’t looking for someone you still would have snatched him up if he came looking for a job.”

  “You’re right,” Rhys shrugs, “I know talent when I see it.”

  “Thank you, love.”

  Rhys smiles at him, “you’re welcome.” He leans over and kisses his boyfriend while Jamie gags.

  “We’re here to work, save that for later.”

  The door to the studio opens and the delivery guy walks in with our lunch order. Noah g
ets up to meet him since it’s his turn to pay.

  “Do you want me to put up the ad that I made for last year?” I ask as Noah passes out the food.

  Rhys shakes his head, “as much as I don’t want to admit it, hiring someone fresh out of school is the way to go. I don’t like it, but if we want to continue expanding our brand and keep up with our current clients then we need to offer a fresh look.”

  “I’ll make some tweaks to it, just let me know when you want me to post it.”

  “This is why an internship is such a big thing,” Jamie points out. “Helps weed out what we’re looking for in an employee while giving the intern the needed experience.”

  Rhys groans while looking sadly into his carton of shrimp fried rice. “I hated my internship, I don’t want to subject someone to that.”

  “The guy was a dick. I told you not to take it. But you turned out alright in the end. Do you want to take on an intern? It’s a little last minute but I can slide the offer in there when I call about those who are looking for work.” Jamie emphasizes his point with his chopsticks.

  “Thanks, babe. Hopefully we’re able to find someone fast. I want to start taking contracts again, but things have been so crazy that I don’t wanna leave y’all in a lurch.”

  “With the holidays coming up you’re going to be getting a ton of requests.” I point out since I’m the one who gets those emails first.

  “We’ll discuss them as they come in.” Rhys turns to Noah, “do you want to get back in the field? That’s what you mostly did before coming here.”

  Noah shakes his head, “it was getting old, to be honest. I hated being gone so much and for so long. I’m happy with the work I’m doing now.”

  “If you change your mind let me know.”

  “I will.”

  “That’s settled,” Jamie says as he steals Rhys’s food out of his hand and replaces it with his. “Anything else we need to discuss?”