“I don’t think so. Viktor said they’ll be passing around drinks and canapes at the gallery.”
“Okay.” She smiled and approached, saying nothing else. Though Marc could almost hear the words she was holding on the tip of her tongue.
“Just say it, Mom.”
“It’s nothing, just… I heard your conversation with your sister. And I wanted to say, don’t let her get in your head. It’s your life and you gotta do what you think is best for you.” She straightened his shirt collar, then smoothed the invisible wrinkles on his chest. “I get that you’re seeing Chris now, that you love him. And while I’ll always tell you to fight for those feelings that are so rare, if you feel Viktor might make you happier… again, it’s your life. Second chances exist. Okay?”
Of course she knew about Chris and Viktor, and all the latent drama. Unless he was too worried and needed time to process without anyone’s opinion influencing his train of thought, Marc barely kept any secrets from his family. None of them did—it was useless since the rest always knew, somehow. Probably the only thing he hadn’t openly talked about with them were his sexual preferences regarding kinks. And not because they would judge him, but because it felt nice keeping something for himself.
However, as sweet as it was to have his mother fully supporting him, hearing her say it was okay to give Viktor a second chance turned his stomach upside down. Her acceptance of herbaby boygoing back to the man who had taken him away from her, despite the pain he had caused years later, was proof of the impression that man had made on her.
Holding her hands close to his heart, Marc bent down and kissed his mother on the cheek. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Besides, who knows? Maybe you can keep them both.” She winked as she made her way back to the kitchen.
With a grin stretching his lips, he shook his head, put on his coat, and left.
Theridedowntownwasshorter than expected. Though, it could be his reluctance to do this that was building the distress.
Why the fuck am I even doing this?
Thinking back to the day when Viktor first emailed him, Marc had mostly felt melancholy, with some resentment thrown into the mix. His ex asking him to meet had certainly baffled him. He got nervous, scared, and angry. And although Chris had given him a compelling reason to just accept his invitation, deep down, the bassist didn’t want to be there.
The few messages he’d exchanged with Viktor during the last couple of weeks, and the way he wasn’t eagerly awaiting his answers, should have been sign enough that this was pointless. But it was as if someone else was controlling him like a marionette.
Being here, about to meet the man who had meant everything to him in the past, while his heart was aching to belong to someone else, was like scratching an old wound and making it bleed again. Painful. Illogical. Dangerous. He hated it; this sensation of being hung from a silver lining that was slowly choking him.
Until now, he’d ignored reality, just wanting to indulge in the pleasure Chris wreaked on his body, making him feel more alive than ever before. Yet he couldn’t look to the other side anymore. His unrequited love for his friend had trapped him in purgatory. How long would he be able to continue living like this?
He hadn’t felt this way since those days when Viktor had left for Ukraine, leaving him behind and in the dark. Funny how the only two people he had been passionate about had unconsciously caused him the biggest harm. Not that he blamed either of them. Marc was aware it was his fault for letting them creep so deep inside of him they grew roots in his heart. But that admission didn’t make any of it easier.
As he continued his way down the street, memories of the moments he had shared with Chris tangled with the ones belonging to another life. But that call from Viktor three and a half years before shone brighter than the rest…
Marc had been gazing at Betty and Wilma while they were sleeping. He knew most people hated these rodents, but he was swooning like an idiot. They were disgusting little pink things when he saw them at his neighbor’s a month before—they had rats and other weird pets, like tarantulas. But tonight was the first night they’d be spending in their new home. Their coat of pearl gray fur was still fluffy, and they were ridiculously cute, curled up in the bed he’d prepared for them, breathing peacefully.
Suddenly, his phone went off. Staring at the screen for a couple of seconds as the device vibrated on the coffee table, he hesitated to pick it up.
It was Viktor.
He should have been excited to finally hear his voice after ten days of only texting, but his boyfriend had grown so distant there was bitterness now. Not that Vik had been particularly talkative since he’d left seven months before, but it’d gotten worse during the last few weeks.
Unwanted and useless were probably the adjectives that described Marc’s emotions the best. He was lonesome, and tired of being just some sort of voicemail where the blond came to report how his life was going from time to time, and that was it.
However, he still loved him. Which only made this whole situation more painful.
“Hey,” he said, plopping on the couch.
“Hey…” Viktor rasped on the other side of the line.
“How are you doing?”
“I’m good, considering. I guess.” He sighed.
“Can only imagine.”
“Yeah…”
This was what their relationship had turned into. A cold dance between politically correct sentences and awkward silences. Marc was truly out of words. Every time he’d tried to comfort Viktor, he had either snapped at him or shut down even more. So he didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t make his emotions sway like a shipwreck.
