Dwight
I don't want to get up.
It's early Monday morning, and I have to go to work. There's something about Mondays that makes everyone scramble to make an appointment for today, so I know there's no getting out of work. Not unless I'm puking my guts out or some other contagious sickness. And getting over a breakup isn't an illness. Also, I need the money.
I sigh as I think about how I'm going to have to rebuild my life. Again. How did I go through life single? I'd gotten used to having Pedro. Well, when he was home. Life had more meaning since it wasn't just me.
Plus, the woohoo was great. Not that I have anyone else to compare to, but... oh MAN do I miss him.
I moan and cover my face more fully, cursing my morning wood.
Should I call him?
Ugh! I sit up.
'Hi, there!' the bunny says to me, confirming my slight insanity. I have no idea why I've given the thing a voice.
It makes me think of Marco. Marco, who all but admitted he still cared for me. He may even love me.
I've never gotten rid of the bunny. I couldn't bring myself to. I didn't WANT to. Is it an outward display of how I can't get rid of my feelings for Marco? I sit and ponder myself. Me: the hardest damn person out there to figure out.
Okay, Dwight. You've held onto it. There's nothing especially significant about it except that Marco gave it to you. And you couldn't let it go. Because you love it.
I stop my thoughts. I don't really have time for them right now anyway.
Work is a typical Monday. Once I get into my groove, it goes rather well. I love what I do. I love helping people, and life outside of work fades into the background for a few hours. For a few hours, I forget about Pedro.
Then I come back to my parents' house. Lula Belle is happy to see me, so I'm sure to spend some time with her.
A knock sounds at the door, and she barks.
My chest hurts, but I do my best to hide it. I open the door for Lula Belle, and she goes running out to greet Pedro. He smiles and leans down to pet her. She licks his face. I walk out onto the porch and watch the two of them for a minute. Then Libbie goes off to dig something up in the side yard. It's just me and him now.
"I didn't come to pick a fight," he says immediately.
"Okay?" Just seeing him is killing me. I have to remind myself of all the reasons I walked out.
"How are you?"
"Do you have to ask?"
He sighs. "Okay. You're right."
If he stays standing there for very long, my resolve may not survive. Damn him! I want to forgive him everything even though I know that will solve nothing. My reasons for wanting to do so aren't sound, though. I'm still attracted to him... He's just a narcissist as*hole.
He pouts. "Is there a chance you would come home?"
"Is there a chance of you trusting me?"
"Yes. I'm sorry, Dwight." That sounded almost robotic, like it was rehearsed.
He's sorry I left. He's not sorry for his actions. I decide to test him. "Marco came by Friday night. I'm assuming you told him."
He glares. "I did. So how long before he threw himself at you?" So that was him testing me by telling Marco.
I glare back. "I stayed up in my room. Dad told him, as requested by me, that I didn't want to talk to anyone." I continue glaring at him. "You deliberately set that up, didn't you?"
"Okay. Fine! I did! I wanted to see what you'd do."
I fold my arms in front of me. Now, I'm doubly glad that I didn't go down and speak to Marco. I don't honestly know what would've happened, but the fact that Pedro set that up makes me clench my teeth. He tried to set me up, but...
"What if I
had seen him? And what if he
had thrown himself at me? What difference would it make? We broke up!"
"It would've proven I was right."
"So?" Is that why he's here? To prove to himself he was right? "What do you want, Pedro?"
"I want you and Lula Belle to come home."
"So that you can continue to have me tailed by private investigators? So that you can continue to accuse me of cheating on you when I'm not?"
"Okay, okay! So you weren't cheating on me, but honestly, Dwight, do you have to stay friends with Marco? Why can't you just let it go? For me?"
"So that if I become friends with someone else who you might think might be attracted to me and you just get upset again? Why can't you just trust me? I've trusted you this whole time, even though you have been surrounded by possible temptations."
Ugh! This is a disaster. He's too good at making him always look right and me always look wrong. Am I possibly in the wrong here? Yeah. That damn bunny upstairs proves it. I can't let go.
I sigh. "I'm sorry, Pedro, but honestly, this was bound to happen sooner or later. I just can't keep up. I can't make you happy."
"Just drop the friendship, and we can work on this."
It's funny in a sad way, but I don't want to work on it. He's exhausting. "I'm not going to."
His entire countenance changes, and he switches to the more malicious side of his nature.
"I see how it is, then. Fine. You know, I thought I'd give you another chance, but honestly, I'd be fine either way. In fact, I have a date tomorrow." F--k, ow. "I'd told the guy 'no' at first, so he said we could go as 'friends.' But if you're saying there's no chance for us, I think he'll be happy to hear that."
He's hurting, so he has to hurt me too. I hate how that even though I've decided to end it, it still hurt.
I want to cry. "Good for you then. Now I must ask you to leave."
He pouts for half a second. "Fine." Then he turns and stomps away down the sidewalk.
Life continues, and my mom starts driving me crazy again. I
am looking for a house this time. A house. A stand-alone house. I'm making enough money. It's time to accept life as it is.
It's Saturday again, and I have a surprise waiting for me when I go out to check the mail.
My spirits lift when I see him. I'd actually started to wonder at his 'radio silence' lately. He hasn't texted me or anything in a week. I know I could've texted
him, but honestly, it's been all I could do to get myself back together. More than once, I've almost contacted Pedro, typically in the late night or early morning. I've stopped myself each time because I know it would solve nothing.
"Hi." I smile. You know, actually, this is kind of perfect. I'm helluva lot better than I was last week. I can do this. My feet carry me over to him.
"Hi," he replies. "Are you busy? Sorry, I would've called, but I must've changed my mind ten dozen times on the way over here."
My smile grows. Yes, it's perfect. I kind of wonder if I'd caught him thinking about changing his mind again as he stood in front of the house. I haven't given him a lot of confidence with my 'radio silence,' but I think I needed total silence, even from him. Seeing him now, I know I'm over that.
I'm reminded of the last texts we sent.
'Is it still true?' 'Yes.' I have no idea how, but he still loves me. He probably never stopped. Stubborn? I don't think that's necessarily it. No, I think it's that he doesn't let himself feel anything for anyone, but I got to him. Again, no idea how. But once that happened, he didn't let go, not even when I messed things up.
I never should've gone to that damn party. I hurt him so badly, but I might get a chance to fix it.
"I'm not busy at all." Pause. "I am sorry, though, that I never texted you." He was probably waiting for me to, thus prompting the back and forth on whether or not he could come by. I just didn't know until this moment that I wanted to see him.
He laughs, an act. "Why would you need to? You've had to work with getting your life in order." He swallows and tries to hide a wince.
He recovers in typical Marco fashion, though. "Could we maybe take a walk?"
A walk. A walk usually involves a lot of talking. I smile. "I'd like that."
So we start walking, not holding hands. Honestly, I'd've been surprised if we were. And Marco stays silent. He won't even look at me. He keeps making little motions like he's about to say something, but then he stops.
I grab his arm and turn him to face me.
"Marco, is that seriously all you're going to do is walk?" I
want this. I
want another chance with him, but I also know that I
want to finally hear him say it. Maybe not those exact three words, but something. I've told him I'm sorry, that I regret what I did, that I'm done with Pedro. He all but told me last week he still has feelings for me.
He knows exactly what I mean. "I'm trying, Dwight. Honest."
I motion to the bench. "Do you want to have a seat?" Maybe I need to take the lead on this. Then again, he might be acting like he wants to say it--if he could just get enough courage. I have more courage than normal, but then, it really helps he all but confirmed my suspicions with that text.
"No. That won't help." He mutters something under his breath about 'last time.'
I'm not letting that go. "And last time I was a complete jerk. I'm so sorry."
He holds up his hands. "Nothing to be sorry about."
Ugh! I want to shake him! "Yes there is!"
"If you're talking about what happened at the party, there isn't. I hurt you, so you left."
I think back to seeing him with Pedro that day. "Well, we'd never defined anything anyway."
"Bullsh*t, Dwight. We were plumbing living together. I got scared. That was deliberately staged. It was a stupid thing to do, and I regretted it almost immediately."
"Why didn't you talk to me at the time, then?"
"What the plum could I have possibly said to fix it? I had no idea."
Dammit, Marco. Don't you know what I do for a living? "You could've told me why you were scared."
"I honestly had no idea at the time! At least that I would admit to myself. So how could I talk to you about it?"
"You didn't give me a chance."
"Exactly! See? So, instead, I hurt you so you left. Then Pedro stepped in and took his opportunity. And after the way I treated you, why wouldn't you respond like you did?"
I think back to how things were then. I was so terrified of anything physical. Marco was terrified of anything emotional.
His phone blips at him. Sighing, he pulls it out before cursing under his breath. "It's my cousin. Just give me a minute, please?"
I nod, and he walks away a few paces. The conversation sounds like she needs his help with something.
He walks back over. "Her car broke down. She got it towed to a repair shop, but they say it'll take eight or so hours to fix it. She's asking me to pick her up and take her home." He winces. "I can call her back and tell her no. She could get a S'Uber or something."
He loves his cousin like a sister. During his dark days, she was the one that would come along and 'pick him up off the floor' before that night he was arrested and the police officer changed his life. "No, you should definitely go take her home. We can talk later." I try to smile. "I'm not going anywhere."
His eyes, when I glance at them, tell me that the last thing he wants to do is leave right now. That makes me smile for real, even if it's small.
He lets out a puff of air. "Would you meet me at Waterside Warble at six, then?" He holds his breath.
My smile grows just a bit more. I'll take that to mean he's asking me out. "Sure."
Air escapes him again. "Thank you." Then he says he'll see me later, and he dashes away.
What should I wear?
I show up at Waterside Warble about ten minutes early and find Marco already sitting at the bar, staring off into space. He changed as well for whatever reason, and I decide he looks good in black. I decide not to approach him yet, instead just looking at him.
This is wonderful. While we'd lived together, Marco and I almost never went out. I think, seriously, it was maybe twice. He tries to keep a low profile, and I'm sure some places remind him of his past. It never really bothered me that we hardly went out as I'm not big on it myself, but right now, I can tell he's trying. That makes all the difference.
He has the cutest smile on his face. I'm dying to know what he's thinking right now during this candid moment. Maybe I'll find out, I think as he turns his head and sees me. He leaves the bar stool.
"How long have you been standing there?"
I smile. "Not long."
He steps closer. "I had no idea what a hotspot this place would be. Apparently, they're having a karaoke contest. I got lucky enough to reserve us a room so it'll be a little more peaceful."
A private room. If I smile any harder, my cheeks will break. "Cool. Where is it?"
"This way." He leads me, and I'm only a little sad he didn't take my hand.
He chuckles. "Sorry. It kind of sucks. And I wasn't planning on using the karaoke machine, but I guess it comes with the territory."
No, I don't want to use the karaoke machine, either, I think as my heart starts racing. Dammit, I'm not leaving this room without getting him to admit how he feels. I'm loads more confident than I used to be, and I'll use that if I have to.
I ask him about how his cousin is doing just to start the conversation. He relaxes and smiles as he relates how she'd bullied the mechanic into giving her a fair price to fix her car. Apparently, she's one tough negotiator, and Marco is really proud of her.
His expression suddenly changes, getting serious. "I'm sorry about abandoning the conversation earlier today."
"It's fine."
"And... I meant to ask, to start with asking you how you're doing."
I like this direction, and I want it to continue. "I'm doing okay."
"Just okay?"
I smirk. "I'd say okay is really good right now, wouldn't you?"
He looks away. "Yeah. I guess it is."
What... is he doing? He'd better not be backing out AGAIN. I've had just about enough of this.
He runs his hand down his face. "I'm sorry, Dwight. I'm an idiot."
"What the plum are you talking about?"
"It's only been a week. Well, not even mentioning how I came by the house the night of, but I'm being an ass. I was wanting this to be a date, but it's too damn soon."
Dammit!
Okay, yeah, it's a bit soon, but it's not like we don't have a history. Plus, things were honestly falling apart with me and Pedro months ago anyway. AND Marco's never really left my heart.
He is not ABOUT to pull away again! He moves like he's about to stand up, but I stop him, practically sitting in his lap. He pulls in a tight gasp.
"Stop it," I order.
"Sh*t, Dwight," he breathes out. Then his breathing gets much more shallow.
"You want it to be a date? It's a date."
"No." He scowls. "I suck at this. I wasn't thinking. Don't feel like... Like it has to be." He acts like he's fighting himself.
"What if I want it to be?"
"You're just saying that because it's what you think I want to hear." He keeps glancing at my lips.
I lean forward, and he leans back away from me. I scowl. "That's not why I'm saying it."
"Yes it is."
"I'm saying it because the more I think about it, the more I think Pedro was right to be suspicious."
"No. If that's true, it's because I started pestering you again."
"So keep pestering me." I climb more on top of him.
He whispers, "Dwight, please." He pulls his head back again.
I whisper back, "Kiss me."
"I don't want to be an as*hole." He swallows. "I want to do this right. I need this to be real."
I successfully kiss him this time, but I keep it short. "It is."
He leans his head all the way back, exposing his neck but saving his lips. "No. You need more time." He shakes as I kiss his neck. "I can't bear losing you again."
"You won't." I start moving against him.
"Holy plum, Dwight," he moans and tries to scoot away. It just places me on top of him.
"You remember the bunny statue, right?" I ask him.
"Yes." He looks like he's trying to decide if he wants me to kiss him again.
We can faintly hear the other rooms participating in the singing contest, but I have other plans. "I never got rid of it. I couldn't bear the thought of it. He even asked me about it a few times, but I'd always evade answering where I got it. I've moved three times with it and took it with me each time with very little else. Why? Because I love it. Why do I love the silly, little thing? Because you gave it to me. It's just a thing, but it's what it represents: something I could never let go of." I can't resist stealing a quick one from his lips again.
His breath shakes as he asks, "All this time?"
"All this time." I gently kiss the tip of his nose.
Tears escape his eyes. "I f--king love you, Dwight."
YES!!! "I know." That's enough talking for now.
Finally. He got the message. I never really loved Pedro. It was just lust and some strange sense of duty because of that one night coupled with how Marco had been hurt, meaning he walked away. I hate how I hurt him. I never want to do that again. I took a man terrified of love and proved to him exactly why he should be terrified of it. I felt like a monster. So, yeah, I stayed with Pedro. I felt like I deserved it. But my heart belonged to Marco. What a mess I was!
I gasp out, "I'm so sorry!"
He's thrown. "What? Why?"
I lean my forehead on his chest and cry.
"I was so hurt. I was so hurt! I never should've gone to that damn party at that monster Hugh's house. I shouldn't have slept with Pedro. I was flattered and mesmerized, and I don't know!" I want to continue, but he interrupts me.
"And you were so hurt. Because you told an as*hole you loved him."
"You're not an as*hole."
He quietly laughs. "Yes, I am."
I let out a kind of crying laugh and hit his chest with my palm. "Then I'm in love with an as*hole."
He pulls my chin up, and we both decide we really have talked enough for one evening. Our lips have a much more important reunion to celebrate.
Alaric
