My mother’s eyes land on me again. I give her a sharp nod and head to the rental where, earlier today, I set up my luggage.
I drive to JFK, where I hope to find an open seat to Seattle. If possible, I want to get there before the end of the day.
Seattle is another place where I don’t belong, but that city doesn’t make my skin prickle with distaste. Maybe I don’t belong anywhere or to anyone.
Some are born to be alone: that might be me.
That might be me.
ChapterEighteen
Matthew
Sweat droplets rolldown my forehead after coming back from the gym. I shouldn’t have gone there when I returned from my parents’. After all, I worked all morning at their house.
They needed us to move out some of their furniture to make room for my grandparents’ stuff. They’re finally moving to Seattle. I was thrilled with the idea, and when my parents asked me to help them rearrange their house, I never considered saying no.
Until my brother-in-law woke me up early and had me working with him like a dog all morning. Mason and I emptied the downstairs guest rooms, placed the furniture on a moving truck, and took it to a storage unit. We’ll use those rooms to place my grandparents’ stuff when it arrives from Albany.
Meanwhile, there’s a big crew building a small bungalow next to my sister’s home. That’s where Janine and James Colthurst will ultimately move. Another way to make sure they’re comfortable. In a month, when their new place is ready, we have to rearrange everything—again.
I promised to pay for the movers.
As I arrive at my building, I exit the Jeep and hand the keys to Joe, our doorman. Instead of taking the elevator, I head for the stairs. Climbing all nineteen floors, I reach my place and pray nothing will ruin my night. But I’m not that lucky. As I drop my gym bag and deposit my wallet and keys in the coat closet’s safe, I see him.
Tristan is sitting on the couch, staring at the wall. Fuck, is he drunk again? I snap my fingers and don’t get any response. Yep, he’s under the influence of something.
“Time to take a cold shower,” I say as the whiff of alcohol assaults my nostrils. “What happened, babe?”
Several questions pile up all at once: Where has he been? Has he been drunk since last Tuesday? Is he an alcoholic? How can I help? None of them make it out of my head.
Instead, I help him go up the stairs and into the shower. In other circumstances, I’d be all over saving water, but not today.
This amount of drinking isn’t healthy. I’m concerned about him, worried that maybe being with a man is what’s making him drink more. Hell, some days, I want to search for that liquid courage too. Being in the closet to please him is taking a toll on me.
When he sobers up, we have to talk. My gut tells me that this shit I’m doing isn’t settling well. I’m not the only one who has doubts and thinks I should find a way out. I do like Tristan, and have learned to care for him, but not to the point of losing perspective of who I am and the values I’ve lived by since I discovered my sexuality.
ChapterNineteen
Tristan
The room spins,and my head is killing me. I can’t remember much of what happened. That’s going to bite me in the ass later. These past few days have been a blur.
Shaking the memories of my visit to my parents with alcohol had been a bad idea. My own fault.Ilet my parents wear me down to the ground until the most stupid comment made me storm out of their home. The call where my father threatened me was the last straw. I drank during the plane ride, went to a bar, and then finished the arsenal of beers Matthew had in the house.
Fuck, I need to pull myself together.
Where is Matt?
I remember him, but was he a dream?
While drunk, I wonder what’s happening between us. The most I know about our relationship is that we keep it under wraps. I wish I could look deeper and find some meaning in what we have, but I don’t have the luxury to think beyond what we do now.
Not if I want to remain sane.
Fuck.
What am I doing?