Thursday, July 9
I haven’t been to Hudson’s in almost a year and a half.
I buzz the intercom and I’m still surprised he’s letting me in.
The lobby hasn’t changed much. Packages left in front of the mailbox. A smudgy mirror. The elevator has maintained its lemony scent. The dim hallway leading to his apartment always smells like someone’s making dinner, no matter the time of day, but fitting for this early evening. I ring the doorbell that’s still as loud as ever.
My heart is pounding as the door unlocks and opens. Hudson is wearing glasses, which is a first. They look really good on him.
“Hey, Ben.”
“Hey.”
Hudson invites me inside, but doesn’t open up his arms for a hug. I’m now incredibly uncomfortable inside this space that used to feel like a second home. But he doesn’t owe me a super-warm welcome, especially when he knows why I’m here. I’m grateful he’s not being so cold that he wasn’t willing to talk about my love life. Especially when he haven’t seen each other since last spring, when I bailed at the last minute on bowling for Harriett’s birthday.
He starts to walk to his room, and I’m not even sure if he wants me following him, but he pulls out his chair by his desk and then he sits on his bed. That’s as good an invitation as I’m going to get.
“How are things?” I ask.
“Things are things,” Hudson says.
Really starting to feel like I came here for nothing. “Should I just go?”
“You do what you want,” Hudson says. “Or don’t want.”
“So you’re still upset about Harriett’s birthday,” I say.
“You mean when you turned your back on us when we were trying to fix things with you?”
“I wouldn’t say either of you were trying particularly hard.”
Hudson crosses his arms, definitely a little defensive. But we didn’t have to touch any of this. I came here because of my business and he made a big deal about the past as if my crimes were bigger than his. He’s the one who cheated on me. And he’s still the one who gets to be happy in a new relationship, while my love life is a train wreck.
“So Arthur still loves you,” Hudson says.
“Apparently.”
“And you had no idea?”
“Not really. Arthur and Mikey seemed really perfect for each other.”
“In what way?”
“They geek out over Broadway—”
“Liking the same stuff doesn’t mean someone is perfect for you. It means you like the same stuff and that makes them good company.” Hudson’s whole vibe is duh. “You mentioned that you’re thinking about moving to Los Angeles with your boyfriend.”
“Mario’s not my boyfriend.”
“He’s not your boyfriend.” It’s not even a question. Hudson is stating the fact and it stings even more. “You see what’s wrong with that.” Again, not a question.
I take a deep breath. “We want to give it a shot.”
“I feel like Dylan has gotten it into your head that everyone our age is supposed to have some epic love story.”
“Well, Dylan and Samantha are getting married and having a baby.”
Hudson laughs.
“I’m not joking.”
“I know,” Hudson says. “That’s so ridiculous. Dylan really dragged that poor girl into his insanity.”
“They’re really happy. It’s real for them. Just like it was for his parents.”
“There’s no guarantee they’re going to turn out like his parents.”
“He doesn’t want to be like his parents. He wants to be with Samantha.”
“Ben, you sound like you have your answers already. If you want to take a risk, move to California with your buddy and prove me wrong. If you want to be with Arthur, be with Arthur.”
This is not what I wanted out of this. I wanted some maturity. Hudson has taken some accountability, but he could also not give a shit whether I leave New York or stay. “Hudson, you’re the only other person I’ve dated. You were my first love and that was real for me. I don’t know how it was for you, but everything hurt so much. But I was able to move on and you did, too. That’s great—I’m not trying to hang out with you and Rafael, but I’m not bothered by you guys.”
“Because you have your choices now?”
“Because I want to keep it real.”
I get up, not finding any of this helpful.
“Ben, it was for real for me, too,” Hudson says. “It doesn’t stop me from loving anyone else, or even getting excited about anyone else, but it was real. I still feel really shitty about how it ended. Cheating on you was the worst thing I’ve ever done. I just made a bad fucking choice, and I’ve always regretted it. But I have to live with it now.”
“That’s kind of what I’m scared of. What if I make the wrong choice? I don’t want to live with regrets.”
“It’s not the same thing, though,” he says. “It’s not like cheating or not cheating. There’s not an objectively bad choice here. You just have to figure out what you actually want.”
“I just don’t want to hurt anyone.”
Hudson laughs flatly, shaking his head. “You’re going to hurt someone! That’s just how it is sometimes, and it sucks, but what’s the alternative? Never make a real choice? Close yourself off completely? You have to be honest, at least with yourself. Ben, I learned that from you. Just be real! Either tell Arthur you’re moving on, or tell Mario to move on without you.” He gets up and walks toward me, and I think he’s about to hug me. But instead he takes my hand and looks me in the eyes. “You’re the writer, Ben. If you could write your perfect ending, what would it be?”
Someone is going to get hurt.
It really took hearing that from my cheating ex-boyfriend for that message to sink in.
No matter how many times I’ve put Ben-Jamin and the crew through the wringer, the pain I’m about to deliver tonight is far worse than any seven-headed monster or magical fire. This will be real.
I’ve always hated the love-triangle trope—probably because I always thought of myself as the person who wouldn’t get chosen. Now I’m someone with choices. Two incredible choices. I’m honestly tempted to not choose either of them, so we can all be alone and miserable together. But then three hearts get broken for nothing. That’s pretty bad math in my book.
I’m on the train, one stop away from Mario’s. I’ve spent the entire ride staring at the LA Wizard shirt he made me and Arthur’s bootleg ticket to tonight’s Play It Again dress rehearsal. These little gifts are personal reminders of how much these guys want me in their lives. It feels a little hard to believe, but I’ve got to exhibit some character growth. That’s what I’m ready to do when I get off the train.
I don’t drag my feet getting to Mario’s. I text him to come outside, because I’m not ready to do this in front of his family.
My heart is pounding, like everything has been building to this very moment.
The front door opens, and Mario comes down the steps in nothing but overalls. No undershirt, no socks. One strap is hanging down, showing his bare chest. Mario doesn’t seem fazed by how chilly it is. He only takes me in with his hazel eyes and pulls me into a minty kiss. And I keep our lips pressed while I run my hands along his arms.
I break the kiss and take a deep breath. “Hi.”
“Couldn’t stay away, Alejo?”
“Apparently not…”
Mario grabs my hand. “Well, why are we out here? Vamos.”
“I actually can’t stay long. I got to get to Arthur.”
“Oh right! His show. I’m so excited for him. Aren’t you going to be running late?”
“Story of my life.” I squeeze his hand, scared to let go. “I got to open up to you about something.” I take a deep breath. “Arthur is in love with me. He actually never stopped being in love with me.”
There’s silence. Like he’s already dreading this conversation.
“So that’s why he broke up with Mikey.” Mario rubs his forehead. “When did he tell you all of this?”
“A couple days ago.”
Then he’s quiet. There’s nothing but the sounds of passing cars and laughter exploding from inside the house.
Mario sits on the steps. “I take it he doesn’t want you going to Los Angeles.”
“He understands why I want to go. But when I read between the lines, he doesn’t want me to move. Which still doesn’t make sense, since he doesn’t even live here.”
Mario looks me in the eye. “Maybe there’s another reason why it doesn’t make sense… a me-shaped reason.”
I sit beside him. “Of course you’re the main reason it doesn’t make sense. Everything else with Arthur could be figured out if that’s what I want to do. But even with everything you and I have in common, there’s something in the mix with you that I didn’t have when I was dating Arthur.”
“A stronger grasp on Spanish?”
“Okay, two things,” I say. “The other thing was doubt, Mario. I don’t know what the future holds for me and Arthur. I just know that when I was with him, I knew that he wanted to be with me. I can’t say the same for you.”
He nods. Another breeze rolls in and he rubs his arms to warm up. I want to hold him close, but now isn’t the right time. There may never be a right time for us ever again.
“You deserve to know how someone feels about you,” Mario says. His gaze is so intense that I almost look away. I can feel how much he cares about me. “But you guys gave it a shot already. What makes you think it’s going to be different now?”
“It might not be different. It might not work. But you’re special enough to me that I don’t want to hurt you any more than I already am. And the truth is, I’ve spent so much time since the breakup trying to move on from Arthur. I practically lie to myself every day about how much I don’t care about who he’s dating, when in reality it breaks me. It’s not fair to move away and start my life over with you when I’m still carrying some huge feelings for him.”
“Do you still love him? No importa. Don’t answer that. I don’t need to know.” Mario looks up at the sky, staring at the retreating sunlight. “I really think we could’ve been something great, Alejo. I hope I can be happy for you one day. But that’s not tonight.”
“You don’t ever have to be happy for me, Mario.”
“I know. But I want to.”
We sit together in silence, and when Mario shivers, I hand him the LA Wizard shirt.
“Here. It makes more sense for you to have this now. Especially since you’re going to make some incredible magic out in Los Angeles.”
I really do believe this. One day, I’m going to see a billboard for a TV show that credits Mario as the screenwriter. And I’m going to take pictures like a proud friend, even if we’ve lost contact by then.
Mario stares at the shirt instead of putting it on. “I’m going to head on in, Ben.”
No longer using my last name feels like an immediate downgrade from where we were romantically. And it’s weird, but it’s right for us.
“Can I hug you?” I ask.
“You better.”
He wraps his arms around me first and I rest my chin on his shoulder. “Gracias for everything good and lo siento for everything bad.”
“De nada. Para lo bueno y lo malo.”
He fights back a cry and lets go, turning so fast that I can’t even see his face one last time. And then he’s back inside his house, quick as magic.
I stand there for a moment, feeling too heavy to move. No matter what happens with Arthur, I know I made the right choice to end things with Mario. Hudson asked me about my perfect ending. But I’m going to focus on the beginning instead.
The do-over, to be precise.