“I’m trying. I fucked up with someone recently, though, and I’m trying to make it right,” Roland replied, and Donny jerked. His hip slammed into the table, and the glass fell over with a thud. He quickly righted it before it rolled onto the floor. He lowered his eyes and watched the ginger ale drip down the edge of the tablecloth.
This was his worst nightmare. Donny had been certain the pain of seeing Roland happier without him than with him was the worst thing he could feel, but he’d been wrong. This, here and now, having a front row seat to Roland reconnecting with his ex was too much for him to handle.
A tear slipped out of Donny’s eye and slid down his cheek. He raised a hand to wipe it away before anyone, especially Roland, could notice. He shouldn’t have come here. He shouldn’t have listened to Athena. This was a cruel fucking punishment to endure.
“Cody, I need to go. Take care of yourself, okay?” Roland said, taking a step back from Cody.
Donny stepped to the side, bumping into the table again. The glass didn’t fall this time, and for that, he was thankful. He tried to blink his eyes into focus so he could find an easy escape route, but his vision wouldn’t clear. He took a step and stumbled, righted himself on the edge of the table and tried again.
“Don’t go.”
That was Roland’s voice. Donny grabbed his stomach with one hand and fumbled his way through the crowd to the door. After what felt like an eternity, he made it outside. He sucked in breath after breath, the cold air numbing his lungs as he fought off his pending hyperventilation. His cheeks froze, from the tears no doubt. He wiped at his face with both hands, streaking the proof of his anguish across his skin.
Fingers grasped for his arm and spun him backward. He stumbled, but was caught in a strong grip that supported him and righted him on his feet. It was Roland. Of course it was Roland. Handsome, and talented, andnot hisboyfriendRoland.
“I said, don’t go,” Roland spoke softly, the words obviously only for Donny’s ears.
Donny squeezed his eyes closed but tears escaped anyway. He’d made it two whole days without crying; why did he have to start again now?
“Why not,Rolly?” Donny choked out, tipping his chin toward the gallery, toward Cody.
Roland groaned, and flexed his fingers around Donny’s biceps. “Don’t call me that,” Roland repeated, this time to Donny. “That’s not who I am. Not anymore.”
“Oh?” Donny opened his eyes and was met with an up close Roland whose eyes were clouded with concern. “Who are you trying to be then?”
Roland’s mouth quirked with a small smile that was gone just as quickly as it’d appeared. He smoothed his palms down Donny’s arms, until he held Donny’s elbows in his hands. Roland stroked his thumbs back and forth across Donny’s skin.
“Just Roland.”
Chapter 29
Explained In Color And Shape
Roland’sfirst observation was Donny looked like shit. After he recovered from the shock of seeing Donny in the flesh after they’d been separated for a week, Roland snuck appraising glances his way and found his appearance gaunt and tired. He was on his way to finally get a verbal apology out when Cody showed up out of nowhere.
To say Roland was shocked would have been an understatement. He vividly remembered the pain of Cody abandoning him and it was all he felt when he looked at the man now. Then, for Cody to have the audacity to ask for a date? Definitely not.
Roland watched the shades of hurt and pain flash across Donny’s eyes before he stumbled into a table and then made his way outside. Roland shrugged Cody off and was able to grab Donny as he made it to the sidewalk. There were tears streaming down his face and he looked desperate to be anywhere besides the same space as Roland.
“Oh? Who are you trying to be then?” Donny asked him, trying to be brave. Roland could hear the waver in his voice as he forced the words out.
A brief joy surged through Roland, lighting up his heart when he thought about who he was trying to be. Just Roland. He was trying to be Roland, and trying to find a good enough reason inside himself to wake up every day, even if he was waking up alone. He was trying to be the artist everyone thought he was, trying to be the person he’d painted from Donny’s drawing.
“Just Roland,” he said. He stroked his thumbs across the outside of Donny’s elbows, then traced his hands lower until his fingertips caressed Donny’s palms. “Donny, I am so sorry.”
Donny sniffed and nodded, pulling one of his hands free to wipe his face.
“Yeah, well, I don’t know why. You seem to be doing a lot better without me.” He gestured wildly to the gallery space.
“Yeah, I mean, someone hung up some paintings I did while we were together. I’m doing a ton better now,” he countered dryly and Donny rolled his eyes.
“You know what I mean.” He stepped backward toward the curb.
“I don’t. You should tell me.”
“Shut up. I mean, look at you and then look at me.” Donny moved his hands between their bodies. “You got a haircut and you’re laughing and smiling and I’m just here, crying and eating Athena’s fucking sadness bacon.”
“Sadness bacon?”
