"I'm just being real."
"OK. Well, let me be real, D. I don't want the man I..." He stopped, choosing his words carefully, "...the man I have feelings forsleeping with other people. That's it... plain and simple. Call me traditional—although considering your occupation, that seems a little bizarre."
"It's not, Jack. Oldest profession known to man..."
"That's not what I mean."
"I know. And I get why you're struggling with it. Every man I have ever attempted to date has felt the same. It's a losing battle and I always survive... alone."
"So, that's it."
"I gotta work, Jack." Demarco continued walking. He could see his building about half a block ahead, dark green with black trim. Jack followed.
"When are you going back?"
"Reed texted me this morning. There's a gig tonight. People are requesting me... because of all this."
Jack stopped again. He looked deflated, sucker-punched. "You talked to him this morning and you didn't tell me?"
Demarco turned. "I don't want to lose you, Jack."
"Well, this is not exactly a great way of showing it. Did you remind him that you were shot three days ago? Who the fuck expects someone—anyone—to return to work three days after being shot?"
"He knows. I told him I'd probably be OK by Tuesday."
"Three more days. Unbelievable," Jack said, confounded.
"Jack, it's not a bad wound. You know that. We've had sex several times since. I was kind of hoping we would tonight."
"Is that what I am to you, D... someone to getyourrocks off. Yourswirl? Maybe you should be paying me."
"Not fair, Jack. You know that's not true."
"Let me tell you what I know about you, D. I know you want tohelpyoung people. I saw the way you were looking at Wilson back at the center... so did Rachel. You wanted torescuehim. I also saw the way you looked when you saw that homeless kid on the street yesterday. You wanted to rescue him too. And what about Abir? Same thing. God—you're blind!"
"It's human to feel compassion, Jack."
"It's paternal on your part."
"So, you see me as a father-figure? For the kids, Jack... or for you?"
Demarco regretted the words before they finished exiting his mouth. The hurt in Jack's face was evident, his eyes reddened, tears welled.
"I'm sorry," Demarco said. "I didn't mean it. I use humor when I'm nervous. You know that, Jack... I always have."
Jack wiped at an eye, nodding. He put his hands in his pockets.
Demarco reached out and lifted his face to make eye contact. "I would never hurt you...ever. It was a terrible reference to a dated song by a dead pop star. I should be arrested by the levity police... fined at least."
Jack didn't laugh, just closed his eyes and sighed.
"How about we go to my place?" Demarco said gesturing that direction with his eyes. "We'll order some take out... and we'll talk some more. Maybe there's something we haven't considered."
Jack stared at Demarco, the pain he'd expressed before had simmered down to one of resignation. "No," he said. "I've said everything I have to say, D. You know how I feel. I just need some time alone... I'm tired."
"Fair enough," Demarco said, nodding. "Get some rest."
Jack turned and headed back the direction they had come.
