Something startled me awake. At first, I thought it was my own snore because I heard and felt the sharp, vibrating gasp as awareness dawned.
I was lying on my couch, fully clothed, and disoriented by the dimness of the apartment. The faint light from the windows could have been early evening or early morning.
How long had I slept?
It felt as if I’d only just closed my eyes. I had a vague memory of pillowing my head on the armrest and thinking I’d take myself to bed in a few moments. Obviously, I’d never managed.
A knock at the door came then, as I surfaced from sleep. The knocking. It had been knocking that woke me, I realized.
I flailed my hand to the coffee table, found my glasses and slipped them on. When I rose from the couch, my hip twinged and creaked, protesting my choice of bed. “Oof.”
I hastened to answer the door and standing in the hall was Elizabeth—looking fresh and happy and holding two familiar paper coffee cups.
“Good morning!” she said cheerfully.
If it was indeed morning, it was really, freaking early.
“Huh?” I asked, still somewhat disoriented from my short nap. I doubted I slept a full day—though god knew I probably need to. So that meant I’d only been sleeping—at maximum—two or three hours. The last time I looked at a clock it had been after three.
Adding to the disorientation was Elizabeth’s expectant expression. She didn’t seem to acknowledge or believe that a pre-six AM visit was completely weird, so I had to search my brain for what I could possibly be missing.
“Is the building on fire?”
“What? No. I was up early and thought I’d get you some Buzzy’s before we go. We have a little bit of time and Nico’s still getting packed.”
She handed me a coffee and walked through to the living room. I followed her and flipped on the overhead light. The sunlight, though filtering in more and more, was still too weak to illuminate the room.
I shook my head. “What are you talking about?”
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes and took in my wrinkled shirt and pants. “You’re not going to Boston?”
“Was I supposed to go to Boston today?” I asked skeptically. I knew I had been slightly deprived of sleep the past couple of weeks, but I didn’t think I’d forget a trip.
“To see Kat. Quinn said we were all going—”
“Quinn said I was going too?” I interrupted her, jumping on the mention of Quinn. He and I hadn’t spoken in a week and our interactions up to then had been noticeably strained. I wasn’t feeling very secure where he was concerned. Maybe this was a good sign. If he’d included me in the travel plans, I’d feel more like the strain was probably all in my head.
I blamed it on Ken.
I wouldn’t have this guilty, shitty, paranoid feeling all the time if it weren’t for him. I kept seeing his face, so full of accusation and incredulity. It was disillusionment and disappointment too and it fueled my feelings of being undeserving of what I had, strengthened my worry that the jig was up, and my whole world was coming down around my ears.
“Well, no,” she admitted. “I just assumed. Because, well, it’s Kat.”
I sighed, disappointment deflating my bubble of hope. It was a fair assumption on Elizabeth’s part. She knew Kat and I were close. And with Shiva—the Jewish mourning period—finished, it was reasonable that her friends would visit her now to help lift her spirits. Between her father passing away, Caleb being a nuisance, and the stress of her inheritance, she presumably needed as much support as possible.
Thinking of Kat and all that she was going through and how I hadn’t been a good friend to her in these past weeks, filled me with guilt.
I blamed it on Ken.
Kat’s father had died the day after we broke up. And though I’d kept in sparse contact with her via text, all my mental energy had been sucked up by him. Thinking about Ken, wallowing in misery over Ken…blaming Ken.
If he hadn’t done what he’d done on that Tuesday, I’d have enough energy to be there for my friend in her time of need. But no. Instead, I’d hardly thought of her.
I was a selfish asshole and it was all Ken’s fault.
“There’s still time to pack if you wanted to tag along,” Elizabeth offered.
I snorted. Tag along. Sure, tag along, uninvited, when it was clear I was excluded intentionally? Not happening.
“No thanks,” I said, bitterness lacing my words. “I’ll go see Kat on my own some other time.” I didn’t need Quinn and Manuel to visit Kat. I could go whenever I felt like it. Maybe I’d even take some vacation days. Whatever I did, I didn’t need an invitation from Quinn.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, surprise evident in her tone. I wasn’t doing a very good job of putting on a happy face. My only excuse was that she’d caught me at a strange moment. It wasn’t easy to get my shit together while I was depressed and sleep-deprived. Still, I needed to buck up—if only to get her to wipe that concern off her face.
I swatted the air. “I’m fine, sugar, just tired. It’s way too early.” I held up the coffee she’d given me. “But this will help.” I looked at the cup and said, “Just what the doctor ordered.”
I took a big swig from the paper cup and watched as Elizabeth’s face morphed from concern to suspicion—eyes narrowing, head tilting slightly as if she were trying to focus on hearing some far-off sound. Damn it.
She gestured with her free hand at my rumpled clothing. “Does this have anything to do with Dr. Ken Miles?”
I’d suspected she’d known about Ken based on her pointed question that day at Janie’s, but I wasn’t going to offer her information, so I asked, “What do you know about Ken?”
“I know that for several Wednesday mornings I’d see him leaving the building very early, wearing scrubs and carrying a tote on his shoulder.”
Stupid Tuesday nights.
I shrugged, having no response for her. I wasn’t going to lie, but I also sure as hell wasn’t going to spill my guts out to her.
“I’ve been leaving at the same time, but I haven’t seen him in a couple of weeks.” She stared at me for a moment, then continued, “I was surprised at first. I was just getting into the car in the circle, when I closed the door, looked out the window and saw Dr. Ken Miles strutting out of our doors at five AM. It took a second for the dots to connect, but I realized he had to be here with you.”
“Not necessarily,” I argued. “A lot of people live in this building.” I’d tried my best to wipe my face of expression, unwilling to betray any of my feelings to her. Ken was gone. It hurt. It hurt a lot and I didn’t want to think about it, let alone talk about it.
“Oh my God.” Elizabeth shook her head. “You’re even doing that thing he does!” She pointed at my face and twirled her finger. “It’s like the hamster in the wheel stopped running.” She tapped her temple in emphasis.
Reluctantly, I chuckled. “See, I thought it was more like an unplugged robot.”
She smiled, but it quickly faded as she asked quietly, “Did you break up?”
Inexplicably, the quiet softness of her question made my throat close. I tried to swallow the offending emotions that were threatening to surface. Elizabeth read the answer in my silent struggle and she tsked. Apology and compassion filling her face. “Oh, Steven, I’m sorry.” She gave my arm a comforting caress. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I cleared my throat. “Nah, I’m good. You know me, I don’t do long-term. It’s no big deal.” I couldn’t cope with her pity or gentle consolation. It was going to make me feel things I’d been trying not to feel for two weeks. I hated to make light of what I felt for Ken, but I had to in order to just get through it.
She nodded her head thoughtfully. “I get the feeling he’s kind of a clingy and demanding guy. I don’t imagine you loved that. On paper, Ken’s great. Smart…has his shit together. Very pretty. But really, give him any encouragement and he gets pushy.”
Pushy. It was the same complaint of Ken I’d said to myself repeatedly since he left. He pushed for another night together each week and he insinuated himself into my business with King and Quinn. He made plans for us months in advance. I wanted to call that high-handed and agree with Elizabeth. I thought I should give her something and say, Girl, he wanted to adopt a dog together! We’d laugh, share in some commiserate berating of Ken, then she’d leave.
But…I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t agree. As a matter of fact, my heart rebelled at her words. All he’d done was show me how much he wanted to be with me. Aloof, standoffish, coy…these were not qualities of Ken’s, and honestly, I was glad for it. He never half-assed anything—he put effort and sincerity into his commitments, and I loved it about him. It felt good—maybe in an uncomfortable, foreign, itchy way—to be the recipient of his attentions and to rank high on his priorities. But he wasn’t what I’d exactly call clingy.
“And, let’s face it,” she continued, “you’re such a thoughtful, nice person. Ken’s rude. His condescension and nit-picking…” She shook her head. “So annoying.”
Okay, I didn’t like that. Did I think he was a rude asshole sometimes? Yes. But he was my rude asshole, not hers. My condescending, nit-picking weirdo, not hers. I didn’t enjoy this bubbling defensiveness, either. How many times had I sat here thinking about how terrible he was for tearing open my mail—threatening my livelihood? I should be happy my friend was unquestioningly on my side in this—should be happy she was acknowledging how tough I had it in my relationship with Ken. But instead, I was biting my tongue to keep from lashing out at her. What was wrong with me?
I needed her to get out. I couldn’t think about him anymore. “Well,” I began, about to steer the conversation into, Thanks for the coffee, have fun in Boston, give Kat my love, yada, yada, yada. But she wasn’t done with Ken.
“Oh man, did he ever call you stupid? He called Meg stupid once. Made her cry. It was great. I mean, having a chief resident calling other residents stupid isn’t great. But, in fairness to him, she was stupid and had it coming. She had no business being a doctor.”
I had no idea what she was yammering on about, but I closed my eyes and sighed, replaying Ken’s words in my head. I’ll tell you what does make you weak and stupid—not reaching out for the help that’s right in front of you. Fucking stupid.
Those had been the words that had taken me from being on the defensive to being on the offensive—from trying to appease him, to trying to hurt him. I hated it—hated that we’d said those things. I hated that I’d gone so low.
“Oh, honey,” Elizabeth moaned, reading the pain in my face. She squeezed my hand in support and said, “You don’t need that negativity in your life. He’s wrapped up in a sparkly, dazzling package, I know, but he’s just a snooty grouch.”
“Stop!” I let go of her hand and stepped away from her, thoroughly irritated. She was trying to make me feel better, but I couldn’t listen to her insult Ken. He wasn’t a snooty grouch and he was so much more than a sparkly package. His pretty outside couldn’t hold a candle to his inside. He had a wide, open heart and a wealth of love dying to be reciprocated. He needed someone to dig beyond his crusty attitude and revel in the hidden passion and sweetness he held inside. I should have been that person. I could have been that person. I was that person…until I screwed it up.
Elizabeth was looking at me like I’d grown another head, but I didn’t have the energy to fake it. All these big emotions were floating on the surface and with each passing day, they were getting harder to suppress. I thought it would get easier, not harder. Elizabeth’s pep talk wasn’t helping me to stay in control—it was having the opposite effect.
“Listen, sugar…I appreciate this, I do. But I don’t want to talk to you about Ken. You think you know him, but you don’t. He’s beautiful inside and out. I lo—” I love him. I stopped myself before confessing this to her—unwilling to admit it to her before I’d truly processed it myself. I love him.
I cleared my throat and continued, hoping she didn’t catch the almost-confession. “We might not be together, but that doesn’t mean I want to hear anything bad being said about him.” I gave her an apologetic look, knowing I was coming off slightly harsh. “I’d like to be able to cope with our break-up without help, okay? I don’t want to talk about it.”
She looked stricken and I felt wretched about it. I couldn’t help that I didn’t want to subject myself to post-break-up analysis or share my deepest feelings on the matter. I might occasionally offer to be a sounding board or a strong shoulder for others, but I didn’t want it or need it.
Elizabeth, however, wasn’t a shrinking violet or easily swayed, so instead of dropping the subject, she asked, “Do you ever talk to anyone, Steven? Maybe you need to.”
I gave a small shake of my head, frustrated. I didn’t want to hear this.
“Well, you should. I think you need to get it all out. Talk to Sandra.” She pointed in the direction of Alex and Sandra’s apartment across the hall. “Talk to Ernesto or Kat. They both love you and would help you if you needed it. You just need to reach out.”
I’ll tell you what does make you weak and stupid—not reaching out for the help that’s right in front of you.
I shut my eyes against the words.
“I have to go,” she said glancing at her watch. “Are you sure you don’t want to come to Boston with us?”
“I’m sure. Thank you for the coffee.”
I walked her to the door and said goodbye. But before I could shut the door behind her, she said, “You’re right. I don’t know Ken, not really. But I bet if you did something you regret, he’ll forgive you. He’s not a fool.”
After Elizabeth left, I took my coffee and sat back on the couch, ruminating on her words.
Ken wasn’t a fool; she was right about that. But he didn’t forgive easily. When he fought with his sister, he’d imagined their relationship was obliterated—not seeing that work could be done to salvage it. Somehow, I doubted he could forgive my intentional cruelty so easily. I didn’t know if I could forgive myself.
Elizabeth was right about something else, too.
I needed to talk to someone. There was a relationship I needed to put work into salvaging.
Grabbing my phone from the table, I typed out a quick text and said a little prayer to Thor that it got a positive response.
Can we meet somewhere to talk?
Within thirty seconds, I had my answer.
Yes! Come over.
“He’s changed his outfit three times this morning,” Paulie said as he ushered me inside.
Ernesto and Paulie lived in a tenth-floor condo overlooking Washington Square. It was modestly sized, but Ernesto had used his artistic eye to maximize the space and make it elegantly modern. Every time I stepped inside, I was awed by his talent and creativity.
Today though, I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings. I was here on a mission.
I needed Ern.
I’d lost Ken. My relationship with Quinn was off. Kat was gone and dealing with more problems than anyone should have to deal with. I didn’t feel like I had any control over my life anymore and that was scaring me. It had been scaring me for weeks.
I didn’t know what to do about Quinn. There was nothing I could do to help Kat right now. And Ken? I pretty much put the nail in the coffin of that relationship.
That left Ern.
I could fix things with Ernesto. I didn’t want to smooth things over with him because I needed a sympathetic ear—as a matter of fact, I still didn’t want to have any big heart-to-heart discussions. No, I wanted to smooth things over because I cared about him and owed him an apology. We’d been friends for going on ten years and I’d let my annoyance with him turn into avoidance. He deserved better than that and I needed to have my friend back.
So here I was, looking into Paulie’s face, expecting some anger on behalf of his husband, but instead, he looked amused.
“Why is he changing clothes?” I asked.
Paulie snorted. “He’s anxious. I told him he doesn’t need to be. It’s you. You’re not coming here to fight or anything.” He issued me a pointed look. “Are you?”
There it was. Paulie answered the door because he wanted to assess the situation before Ernesto. It was a sweet, protective gesture, and not for the first time, I felt a twinge of jealousy over their relationship. Paulie always had Ernesto’s back.
Ken had your back, too, asshole, remember? I batted those thoughts away. Right now, I wasn’t here to think about Ken, I was here for Ern.
“No.” I sighed. “Tell him to come out here, I want to talk. I don’t want to fight.”
The bedroom door burst open. “Oh, Steven! I don’t want to fight either! I’m so sorry!” Ernesto barreled forward, his arms wide. He grabbed me in a bear hug that trapped my arms at my side.
I laughed and could only use my fingers to give him a few awkward, soft taps on his hips.
“Okay, yeah, hi there.”
I started to pull away, but Ernesto tightened his hold. “We’re not done with the hug. Just a little bit longer.”
“Okay,” I agreed, letting him have the connection. I stayed stiff for a moment, then let myself relax. It felt nice, I realized. Really nice.
I needed a hug.
The thought made tears unexpectedly prick my eyes. Oh no. I didn’t want to get emotional, didn’t want to let the dam break. I was here to patch things up with my friend, not unload my turmoil all over him. But the longer the hug went on, the more my eyes and nose stung. Before I knew it, I was sniffling.
Ernesto heard my struggle and pulled back to look in my face. “Oh, my. You need to sit down. Let’s talk about it.”
He led me to the dining room table which was set for breakfast. I realized then that the apartment smelled heavenly.
“Paulie made us breakfast. Sit.”
As soon as I sat, Ern rushed out, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that to you. It was terrible. You guys looked so happy and I threw cold water all over you. I don’t blame you one bit for leaving and not talking to me.”
“Thank you for apologizing but blowing you off for a month was inexcusable. My only defense is that…” I paused, debating about how honest I should be.
Lies and secrets have to stop.
Ken’s voice rang in my head again. He wouldn’t leave me alone today. But he was right. I needed to start being honest and stop hiding everything that was even slightly unpleasant. I acted like I could handle anything, but really, I could barely stand any discord or bad feelings. I’d avoided dealing with what Ernesto had made me feel, I avoided letting King upset Quinn, I avoided facing all my fears about Ken. What had this given me except a feeling of being completely alone?
I cleared my throat and continued, “My only defense is that what you said scared me. I was already feeling insecure with Ken. I was falling in love with him and starting to get my hopes up when I knew I shouldn’t.”
Paulie set plates of pancakes, bacon, and fruit in front of us, and made a tsking sound as he did it. It didn’t sound like a sympathetic tsk, either. I glanced at his face and found him glowering. Without comment, he turned back to the kitchen.
“Oh, no. No, no, no,” Ernesto chanted. “That was all my issue and I shouldn’t have put it on you. I had a really shitty thing with a bi guy in high school. We were young and he was freaked out, I think.” He shook his head. “But that’s not Ken’s fault. I want to look out for you because I know you’ve had it rough lately, but I just unloaded all my garbage on to you instead. I’m a mess. You know I am. Ask Paulie. Paulie!” he shouted—as if Paulie couldn’t hear every word we were saying anyway. “Tell Steven I’m a mess.”
Paulie walked in holding his own stacked plate, his glower still affixed to his handsome face. He sat down across from me and just stared for a moment.
He opened his mouth, then closed it. Ern and I sat poised for whatever Paulie was going to say. He was like some wise monk who sat in silence—only speaking when there was sage advice to impart. Paulie raised his fork, pointed at me. “You.” He angled his fork to Ern. “And you…Fools. Both of you are fools.”
My shoulders sagged and Ernesto growled, “That’s constructive.”
Paulie stabbed a piece of kiwi and popped it in his mouth, the crease in his brow deepening. “This is the same shit that kept us fighting.” He looked at me and said, “While you were at the bar, Ken talked about you like he really liked you. And I could tell he did. He brushed those other guys off without a glance. He’s not going anywhere.”
He bit into a piece of bacon and sat back with a sigh, like he was exhausted by the topic.
“I’m sure you think you know what you’re talking about,” I said. “But I think both of you are projecting your problems onto me. You’re wrong. Ken’s gone. He left,” I announced.
Ern inhaled sharply, in shocked sympathy. But Paulie, he barked a bitter laugh. “Did he leave, or did you run him off?”
I don’t think you’re confused, babe. I just can’t trust you, that’s all.
I cringed at the remembrance of my viciousness. I’d exploited his sore spot and fed into my insecurities to deliver a crippling blow. For what?
To run him off.
Paulie saw my cringe and nodded knowingly. It chafed. This wasn’t simply a matter of feeling less-than and driving him away. There were circumstances. There was a backstory, for Thor’s sake.
“It’s not like that, Paulie,” I protested. “He’s not blameless. You don’t know the whole story.”
“So, tell us the whole story. You just said you were falling in love with him. If that’s true and not hyperbole, then you need to think about what kind of work you’re willing to put into love, because it ain’t easy. If you want it, you have to get uncomfortable sometimes.”
He looked at Ern then and his face softened. Their smiles were knowing—maybe even a little sad as they shared some unspoken memory of rougher times. Again, I felt that twinge of jealousy and hated myself for it. It seemed like the two of them had gone through a lot of hardships to get to the level of trust and intimacy they shared.
I had no right to be jealous of it. They earned it. What had I done to earn anything like that? Doubting? Lying? Sneaking? What did I think I was going to get?
“Tell us,” Paulie encouraged.
So, I did.
I capitulated, gave in and gave up, because I didn’t want to carry all of this by myself anymore. And there was something about Paulie’s quiet wisdom that made me feel like he’d give me whatever it was that I needed. Maybe not what I thought I wanted, but what I needed. Ern, Elizabeth…they might have been too biased in my favor and told me I was right and correct and justified in all that I’d done. Paulie wasn’t, though. He’d give it to me straight and probably even see things through Ken’s eyes. I liked that. Part of me wanted someone to be on Team McPretty and tell me what a huge prick I’d been.
Even though I was spilling my guts, I still made sure to edit Kat’s business out of the retelling. It wasn’t central to my story, and Ken’s anger over it, I realized, was about feeling like I didn’t care about him or value our relationship in the same way he did.
Instead, I told them about King and Quinn and Ken’s argument with his sister. I admitted that I’d felt scared of how intense Ken was and how intensely I felt for him and that he’d said he loved me, and I never reciprocated.
When I got to the part where I admitted I’d been hiding mail from King and Ken threatened to tell Quinn, Ernesto broke his silence. “I hope to hell he did! What are you thinking? You’re insane!”
Paulie tapped Ern’s hand as if to calm him, but looked to me and said, “Why would you do that?”
“He was going to tell Quinn,” I said simply, shrugging. With matching expressions, their faces conveyed exasperation and irritation. “What?” I asked, my own irritation growing. “You don’t understand. Quinn’s had a hard time lately. He’s stressed. And he’s been short with me. Angry, almost. I won the goddamned lottery when he found me, and I work hard to be the asset he thinks I am. If he knew I was bringing this shit into his house…” I shook my head. “He’d lose respect for me. And if he loses respect for me, he’s going to fire me eventually. I have too much of my life wrapped up in Cipher Systems to risk having it all disappear.”
“You make a lot of assumptions about people,” Paulie remarked. “I see how this went down.” He nodded sagely. “You figured Ken wasn’t going to be a permanent fixture anyway, so you sacrificed him to keep your secrets from Quinn.”
I sat silent, unable to deny Paulie’s accusation.
“Did you even think to talk to him about it? Explain exactly how you felt?” Ernesto asked.
“Of course, he didn’t,” Paulie interjected. “Because he knew if he did, Ken would have been understanding.” He locked his eyes with mine as he said to Ernesto, “And then he wouldn’t have such a neat and tidy excuse to sabotage the relationship.”
His words felt like a punch in the gut. Sabotage.
I wanted to rebel against the accusation. After all, I wasn’t keeping King from Quinn to stir up trouble with Ken. I felt real fear when Ken said, I’m calling Quinn. But Paulie was right that I took it further than it needed to go.
All those things I said to him…they weren’t true. I was cornered, insecure, and afraid so I lashed out. I turned savage and made sure I came out the victor.
The thing was… I didn’t feel victorious. Not in the moment, not in those first, ominously silent minutes after he’d left, and certainly not now. Now I had to live with this carnage.
Carnage that was brought about because I was afraid.
Ken wasn’t a liar. He wasn’t ashamed of himself or of me. He’d been committed and happy. He consistently showed me that I mattered—that what I wanted and how I felt was important to him. No man had ever done any of that for me. Not even close.
He’d told me he loved me…and I believe it was true.
He’d told me he loved me…and I’d never said it back to him.
I brutalized the heart of the man I loved as a preemptive strike. What a fucking coward.
Shakily I asked, “What am I going to do, Ern?”
“It seems to me that the only thing to do is to finally tell the truth,” he said gently, grasping my hand in his. “Tell Quinn, tell Ken. Tell them everything and let the cards fall where they will. If the sky starts falling, Paulie and I will be here for you.”