With a guilty start, he remembered his sister had texted him that morning, and he pulled out his phone to check. He’d half hoped he’d see a text from Jeremy but wasn’t surprised when he didn’t. After several weeks of texting him, asking to talk, and being ignored, the texts had dwindled to nothing.Guess he finally moved on. Blake hugged himself against the pain of Jeremy dating someone else.
The train pulled into Penn Station, and he trudged through the half-empty expanse to the subway, where he waited with a group of rowdy teenagers busy teasing one of their group to ask a girl in their class out. In high school, Blake had never had a group of friends—or any real friend for that matter. That one basketball player he’d had a crush on surprised him by cornering him in the showers after gym, grabbing their dicks in his rough hand, and bringing him to his first shocking orgasm from another person’s touch. After he’d caught his breath, Blake had tried to kiss him, but the boy punched him in the jaw, sending him sprawling to the wet and nasty shower floor.
“I’m not gay. Don’t kiss me, you queer.”
How had he become a person who’d had more of a life to forget than remember? Blake’s phone buzzed in his coat pocket, and his heart raced.
Jeremy…
He pulled it out and grimaced when he saw Michelle’s second text.
What’s going on with you? Why are you ignoring me? I see the mountain has to come to Mohammed.
The train rumbled into the station.
Just getting on the train to go home. Call you soon. Promise.
Her response was cryptic at best.
No you won’t. See you soon. Promise.
Blake put her out of his mind and tried to read the latest suspense best seller, but his mind kept wandering back to Jeremy. When he couldn’t sleep, he’d sometimes take a walk and find himself by Jeremy’s apartment building and see his lights on. Did he have someone up there with him? Was he kissing them, touching them? Making love to them in their bed?
A throb of sorrow rose in his throat, and he found it hard to breathe for a moment. Jeremy loved sex; they’d often make love two or three times a day. Under Jeremy’s sweetly patient touch, Blake had finally embraced himself and come alive. Until his body betrayed him, and retreating to who he was before, Blake chose to run and hide, giving Jeremy his freedom.
An hour later, thanks to the slow train and delays, Blake walked up the block to his apartment house. He went inside and unlocked the door. When he flicked on the light, he dropped his briefcase.
“What the hell? What are you doing here? How did you get in?”
Michelle rose from the chair and faced him, arms folded, eyes flashing. “Don’t you ask me that. What the hell am I doing here? What thehellis going on with you? You break up with Jeremy and don’t say a word? Okay, I get you have a broken heart. But you lose your job and don’t tell me?”
Fear made him speechless.
“Yeah, that’s right. Stare at me like you’re shocked how I know. Because when my little brother disappears off the face of the earth, breaks up with a guy I know he’s in love with and who loves him too, and doesn’t answer my texts, you bet your ass I’m going to say, ‘Fuck tax season. I need to call him.’”
“Y-you called my office?”
“I did.” At that, her voice softened, and Blake couldn’t take the sympathy. He walked into the living room so Michelle wouldn’t see his tears. She gave him enough time to compose himself, then joined him on the sofa.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Blake drew in a shuddering breath. “I thought it would be temporary, and I’d find something else really quickly. But when a month passed and I still was out of work, I ended up taking a job at one of the storefront tax offices.”
“Oh, Blake.” She reached out to him, but he pulled away and left her sitting stricken on the sofa, while he paced the small room.
“I couldn’t tell anyone. You’re going through IVF, and I didn’t want to stress you out worrying about me. And Jeremy…” He shook his head, unable to go on.
“He loves you.”
“Yeah, and I love him, but…all he talked about was how important my job is and how proud he was of me. I’m nothing now. He could do much better.”
“Aren’t you the selfless martyr.”
The sarcasm in her words pricked him. “I’m doing what’s best for him.” He couldn’t tell her the real reason. That he couldn’t get it up anymore and wouldn’t saddle someone like Jeremy with an impotent boyfriend.
“Jeremy seems like a smart guy. Shouldn’t you let him make that decision for himself?” She turned on the single brass lamp he had on the little table by the sofa arm. The soft light failed to hide the strain on her face, and Blake rushed to her side.
“Please don’t be angry with me. It isn’t only that. There’s more than one reason I know Jeremy is better off, but I can’t talk about it.” He took her cold hands in his. “Talk to me. How’s everything been going with you? You look tired. Are you—”
