Martin
The night stretches on endlessly, sleep evading me as my thoughts are consumed by Jesse and his ex. As the sun begins to rise, I'm a jumble of nerves and dread. The 'what-ifs' have spun wildly out of control, and I can't escape the feeling that I'm on the verge of losing it all.
Again.
Somehow, I manage to rein in my emotions and force myself to make breakfast. I'm perched at the breakfast bar clutching my coffee when I catch myself trying to decide where to hide the mug for him today—before remembering with a start that he's not here. Our little game isn't going to happen tonight.
But I remind myself that I’m an adult who’s been alone for most of his life. Even if my fears do come true and Jesse ends up taking his shitty, lying ex-husband back, I’ll be fine. I’ll survive because that’s what I do. I survived being abandoned by my family when I was only a teenager, I survived losing the love of my life, and I survived as a single person for almost twenty-five years. I'll survive this too.
I push through the day, though it drags relentlessly. I feel as though I'm treading water, just barely keeping my head above the surface, as I wait to hear from Jesse.
I resist the urge to do something reckless, clenching my jaw as the clock ticks on. But come 5:00 p.m., the floodgates open, and I pour myself three generous fingers of whiskey, the amber liquid swirling in the glass like my turbulent thoughts. I flip on the TV to something ridiculous and mindless before collapsing onto the couch in a heap. I know the show isn't going to work to distract me, but I leave it on anyway, blaring annoyingly in the background as I lie there and stew.
Not long after the warmth from the alcohol spreads through me, I surrender to the exhaustion that’s been clawing at me all day. I let my eyes drift shut, the world around me fading as the weight of a sleepless night and a day of relentless obsessing finally pulls me under.
I wake up with a start a couple of hours later, my heart pounding in my chest. I grab my phone off the coffee table, desperately hoping for anything from Jesse—some indication that he’s coming back to me, that he feels what I feel.
But there’s nothing.
Goddammit.
I can’t do this. It’s too much.
Before I know it, I’m yanking open drawers and closets, throwing clothes haphazardly into my suitcase. My hands shake as I stuff shirts and socks into the bag, not bothering to fold anything.
“Feckin’ eejit,” I growl at myself. “What were you thinking, getting involved like this?”
I zip up the suitcase with more force than necessary, the sound echoing in the quiet room.It’s better this way.Leave before I get left.Protect what's left of my poor, shriveled little heart.
But when I reach for my phone to book a flight back to Seattle, Jesse’s face appears on my lock screen—a candid shot from our trip to Disneyland. He’s laughing, eyes crinkled at the corners and he's looking at me like I’m the most precious thing in the world.
My finger hovers over the screen, unable to do it. I'm not strong enough to cut this off without at least seeing him first.Goddammit all to hell.
I collapse onto the side of the bed, holding my head in my hands.
Suddenly, an idea strikes me. Celeste. I look at the clock. Yes, it’s late in Montreal, but she's always been a night owl.
With trembling hands, I dial her number. It rings once, twice, and I almost hang up, but then—
“Martin, tu parles d'une belle surprise! How nice to hear from you again so soon!”
“Hi, Celeste,” I say, but my voice is strained, and she can tell right away that something’s wrong.
“Martin, what is it? Are you ill?” she asks, fear lacing her voice.
“No, no, it’s nothing like that. I’m fine,” I say, and she breathes a sigh of relief.
“Merci au ciel,” she says softly. “Tu m’as fait une p’tite peur.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” I apologize. “I just… I need to talk to someone.”
“Don’t apologize, mon cher. I’m unfortunately at the age where my mind jumps to the worst possibility. Now, tell me what’s bothering you.”
“I… I don’t know,” I admit, my voice cracking. “I think I’ve gone and done something stupid.”
“What is it? What’s happened?”
“Jesse, the man I’m working with here… things have changed between us. I… I—”
