I place my hand on his shoulder, and he slowly turns to face me with red-rimmed eyes. “He just came here to say thanks for still doin’ the reno,” I continue. “I had no idea he was gonna turn up.” I brush the tears from Chris’s cheeks.
“If it’s nothing to worry about, then why did you put Jeff on the job? Why didn’t you just do it yourself? And why didn’t you tell me you’d seen him?” Chris sniffles, the hurt in his eyes breaking my heart. “Can’t you see that it looks like you’ve got something to hide?”
I hesitate, not knowing what to say, and, in my silence, Chris walks out of the office. I follow him across the showroom floor, feeling ill. “Chris, please stop. This is stupid. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want this to happen. I didn’t want to upset you for no reason.”
He turns to face me. “Do you still have feelings for him?”
“No! Of course not.” I shake my head. “It’s just… It’s a lot seein’ him. It brings up my past. Brings up a lot of emotional bullshit. He won’t come around again. You have nothin’ to worry about.”
“I think I need to be alone for a while.” Chris pushes open the front door and exits the showroom. This time, I don’t follow.
For the longest time I remain rooted to the spot, my shadow slowly lengthening as the night rolls in. I’m so fucking disappointed in myself because I had the chance to come clean and I didn’t take it.
Eventually I head back into my office and throw the roses in the rubbish bin. There’s a card attached to the flowers that I didn’t see earlier. I turn off my laptop and grab my jacket, then find myself standing back at the bin, staring at the flowers.
Minutes pass. They’re beautiful and I wish Kyle had given them to me twenty years ago, and I wish twenty years ago I would’ve accepted them without ridiculing him for being too gay. I wish a lot of things had been different.
Finally, I reach down and grab the card.
The sea still whispers where we once stood,
Of stolen kisses and all that was good.
The sand holds secrets we alone could share,
Our footprints fading in the salty air.
For years I have drifted, like a ship lost at sea,
But your memory will always anchor me.
The pull to our beach is strong and true,
And every wave leads me back to you.
Sadness crashes over me. Loss, grief, regret. Memories of that perfect night on the beach when we first kissed, sealing our fate. Memories of that god-awful day, when I finally told Kyle I loved him and begged him not to leave me.
It took me so fucking long to get over Kyle. Nights crying silently into that thin, hard pillow while locked up. My bodystill aching for him. Desperate for his touch, his warmth, his affection. Kyle is the only person I ever fully surrendered to, and he shattered me into pieces.
There are parts of myself I’ve never shown, let alone given, to Chris, and, in this moment, I couldn’t be more brutally aware of it. Reaching forward, I retrieve the flowers from the bin and breathe in their sweet scent. Ever-so-carefully, I place them back. At my desk, I open the bottom drawer and place the card at the very back, hidden, but safe.
It’s early afternoon when I take two beers out onto the front steps and smoke a cigarette to calm my nerves. I wonder if this fucking week will ever end.
There’s no way I could’ve faced work today. I’m all over the place, anger bubbling hot and thick under my skin. Chris and I fought on Tuesday night, then again on Wednesday, before he went and slept at his parents’ house last night. We hardly ever fight, and if we do disagree, I’m usually the first one to drop it. I’ve been through enough conflict in my life, and I swore to leave it all behind the day I walked out of those prison gates. But when Chris said I wasn’t allowed to see Kyle again, I got really pissed, and defensive, and the fighting continued.
Not that Iplanon seeing Kyle again. That wasn’t the problem. It was Chris telling me what I can and can’t do.
I scull half my beer then look at my watch. Chris said he’s ready to forgive me and promised he’d be home by dinnertime.
I’m fucking pissed at Kyle for crashing back into my life and turning it upside down. The stupid blonde fuck has left me text messages every day, saying he’s sorry and asking if I’m okay, andnow Jeff has told him I’m not at work, and he’s texting to say he’s worried that I’m sick. Kyle always was a persistent, stubborn bitch.
I’m about to light up a cigarette when a familiar red car parks right in front of my house. Instantly, I’m up on my feet and heading down the porch steps. It’s been quite a few years since I wanted to beat the shit out of someone, but Kyle walking in my front gate pushes me right up on it. I confront him halfway down the path. “What the fuck do you think you’re doin’ showin’ up here?”
“Hold up, Bren.” Kyle lifts his hands defensively. “Just hear me out.”
“You’re fuckin’ lucky Chris isn’t here, and if you think I won’t knock your goddamn teeth out, you’re wrong.” I advance forward and Kyle takes a few steps back.
“Bren, you didn’t answer my texts, and Jeff said you were off work. I was worried about you. Worried that I’d caused a rift between you and Chris.”
