He waves a hand and coughs some more, but it’s nowhere near as severe. “I’m fine. Don’t trouble yourself.”
“You really should see a doctor about that cough.” It used to not happen very often, and he usually blamed it on allergies or dust. Lately, though, it’s been happening a lot more frequently. Is he sick? What if it’s cancer or something else?
Fergus smiles. “I’mfine—”
“Please, Gramps.” My heart drops into my stomach. I can’t lose him. He’s the only family I have left.
He sighs, then pats my hand. “I will, I promise.”
“Thanks, Gramps.” I squeeze his wrist and wonder if it was always so small and bony or if he’s ill. With worry churning in my stomach, I leave him at the table and head into my bedroom. I collapse onto my bed, and the mattress eases the tension from my body. I take my phone out of my back pocket, find Tony’s number, and block him.
No more of this shit.
I’m done being heartbroken.
The Closet is always packed on the weekends. Horny guys grind on each other beneath the swirling lights. Scantily clad men move their bodies to the throbbing beat. The air is thicker than a rainforest with body heat and sweat.
I smile and chat with Tom and Franklin, two of my regulars who come in every week. Hopefully, they can’t tell I’m dying inside as they cuddle up and whisper together. They have been together for almost three years. What’s their secret?
Raising my voice so they can hear me over the music, I ask, “How do you guys do it?”
Tom smirks. “Bit of a personal question.”
Franklin throws back his head and laughs. “Fetch us another round and we’ll consider it.”
Heat warms my cheeks as I let out a laugh. “Ha ha. I meant how have you stayed together this long?”
Tom gives Franklin a squeeze. “We respect each other.”
Snorting, Franklin adds, “Oh, we do? I didn’t feel so respected when I asked you to fold the laundry this morning.” To me, he says, “Do you know what this brat did? He folded the laundry all nice and pretty—and left it inside the dryer.”
Tom interjects, “That’s what you said! Fold the laundry in the dryer.”
The dry look Franklin gives me makes me laugh.
Tom smirks. “The punishment was totally worth it.”
Franklin clears his throat. “We want the same things. I think that helps.”
My exes and I had similar ideas for the future. A marriage, kids, a life together, but that was never enough. There was always something off. Either they ended things, or I did because that gut feeling ofwrong, wrong, wrongbecame too loud to ignore anymore.
Tom adds, “You gotta have four things. Respect. Trust. Communication. Devotion. Those, to me, are key to a happy relationship.”
“And it sure helps if he’s hot and uh-mazing in bed,” Franklin says, bumping his hip against Tom’s. Tom nevertakes his arm from Franklin’s wide shoulders, and their bodies press so close Franklin is practically in his lap. They look so comfortable together. I’m not into the kink scene like they are, but I’d give anything to have the kind of love they have.
No, we’re not looking for love anymore, remember?
I have to look away from them as bitter jealousy tears through my heart. When my shift finally ends, my stomach is cramping with hunger. I stop at a deli and with a hot foil-wrapped sandwich in my hand, I begin the walk home.
The walk up Ninth Avenue toward West Twentieth is a vibrant one as always. Locals and tourists spill out onto the streets, leaving bars with friends or holding hands with lovers. Loneliness leaves an ache in my throat, but it’s a feeling I’m going to have to get used to.
I pull out my keys and approach my front door, exhausted down to my bones. Footsteps approach from behind me, and tension makes my shoulders stiffen.
“H-hello?”
It’s a man’s voice. Heavily accented, deep, and quivering with emotion.
I swear I’ve heard it somewhere before…
