“Non, la cantine.”
Back in my apartment,I sit on my balcony, in my egg chair with an iced coffee, a copy of a smutty MM romance Cherry insisted I read. Instead of taking in the view of downtown Montreal, reading, I’m scrolling through the photo gallery on my phone. Something I’ve found myself doing a lot over the last few months.
With every snap I see of that last weekend Jamie and I spent together, my heart breaks a little more.
I need to get over him. I know I do. But right now, I want nothing more than to somehow melt into the screen of my phone and go back in time. To that version of me. To sweet kisses, lazy breakfasts, Jamie lying beside me with his face buried into his pillow, to me buried inside him.
Had I known we were dancing on the edge, that the very next day we would tumble off and never recover, I would have taken more photos. But for now I have four, like my old number at the Bears. I stare at them so often, I could draw them from memory at will. They are tattooed in my brain, like Jamie is on my heart, and I will treasure them, as I do our time together, ‘til the very day that I die.
After way too long, and way too much moodiness, I book a ride, slide my phone back into my pocket and leave my unread book on the seat, and head inside. The boys’ flight will land in two hours. I was planning on meeting them here, but as nice as it is, I need to get out of this box of an apartment.
Changing out of sweats and the Bears hoodie I almost live in, I slide into the latest suit I had made in preparation of the season to come. It’s dark navy with a lighter blue-check, the tailor who dresses several of my future teammates, claims they favor. It’s fancy as shit, but to make it me I pair it with runners and a cropped tee. With a buzz I’m alerted to Uber’s arrival and the sadness that’s weighing me down lifts, just a smidge. Grabbing the handmade sign I’d planned to hang in the kitchen, I head down stairs, messaging our group chat as I go.
Can’t wait to see you boys.
Sam must have been staring at his phone as he replies straight away.
Sam
You too, Cubby. I’ve been feeling short of late. Being around you again will give me a much needed ego boost.
“Fucking asshole.” I scoff, much to the ire of the driver who eyes me in the rear view mirror. “Oh, not you. My friend,” I say, holding my phone aloft. He mutters something incomprehensible and I think French then returns his focus back to the road.
Hate to tell you Sammy, but they have magic water up here and I’m now seven foot.
Sam
Cory Malkovich, Montreal’s blond Hulk. I can see the headlines now.
Hulk.
The word alone is enough to end my short-lived happiness. Comics, fanfics, anything superhero related have been erased from my life. I can’t think of them without thinking of James, and to my already obsessively thinking of him isn’t healthy. Adding in a sex scene he’s written, that we acted out, would not help.
It’s there though, now. That thought, that compulsion, burrowing deeper into my mind as the traffic all but grinds to a halt.
One look couldn’t hurt. Right?
Wattpad is opened for the first time in months and my favorite fic, Love Comes in Green is accidentally the first I check for updates.
There’s been six chapters added since my last reading.
Six. That’s one for each month we’ve been apart. Surely it’s a coincidence but hey, a guy can dream.
The first chapter was posted three days after I moved in to what was then James’ apartment. The most recent chapter just three days ago. Unable to help myself I click on and open the last.
At first all seems normal, villains reeking havoc, cities being destroyed. It’s as great an escape from reality as it always was, witty, sexy and warm just like its creator. But then…
No matter the victories. No matter the vindication. Regret is the poison surging through my veins, pushing me to become more isolated. More bitter.
For a time I believed his fate had been altered. That perhaps I was not destined to walk this world alone.
But alas, I was mistaken.
My hero. My savior. My love. My heart. All forfeited to a future I will have no part in.
Peace comes in waves of clarity.
I was right. I was noble.
