Pretend I’m Yours

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Pretend I’m Yours Page 12

by Bates, Aiden


  I went over the day in my head, and I realized I had still not experienced a bad day with Kyler. It had been an emotionally taxing day, but we got through it together. We had become a team, my fake husband and I. And, with any luck, we would become much more pretty soon.

  I waited a few minutes before saying it. It was cowardly, I knew. But if that was the only way I could say it, then so be it.

  “I love you too, Kyler,” I whispered. My heart did a little trot. I was suddenly terrified that he would wake up, but he did not.

  15

  Kyler

  I woke up with a start, unsure where I was or why I felt so comfortable.

  Last night came back to me in a montage of sound, feeling and sensation. The most telling was the soreness between my cheeks, and the stickiness of dried fluids on my thighs. I remembered Saul seizing me and kissing me. I remembered being pinned against a wall and fucked senseless. Then I was spread over the floor and plundered some more. I remembered the urgency, the possessive way he held and looked at me, the way his body seemed magnetized to mine, and how he could not keep his hands off me.

  There was something else, too, niggling at the back of my mind. Something had happened that was filling me with a sense of excitement. I sat up, curious about how I had gotten into bed. I did not remember the trip to the bedroom from the den. Saul must have carried me into bed. How embarrassing, Kyler. And then it hit me. I had told him I loved him.

  The events of the previous day came rushing back. So too did the agony of not hearing it back. Or had I not?

  My pulse picked up. He had said it back. I was almost sure of it. I had been drifting off, somewhere between conscious and asleep, and he had said it. “I love you too, Kyler”. I couldn’t have imagined it. Why else was I feeling giddy?

  I looked over at where Saul was still asleep. He always slept face up when he wasn’t cuddling me, sprawled across the bed completely carefree. He also always slept naked. I slid a hand into the sheets and located his cock. It felt thick and heavy in my hand, even though it was soft. Just the feel of it was enough to get me going. I decided to wake him up the best way I knew how.

  I pulled the sheets up over my head and slid down the bed until my head was at his groin. He still smelled of sex, of him and of me and our combined sweat. But there was also the strong woodsy smell I loved so much about him. Like freshly watered earth.

  I held his cock in my fingers and licked from tip to base. I lapped over the slit of the head with my tongue and then around it. I licked around it once more, and then wrapped my lips around it all the way, taking as much of him in as I could without gagging.

  It took a few seconds, but eventually he started to get hard. I lathered his cock liberally and fondled his balls as I sucked. After a few moments, he began to stir and moan in his sleep. He jerked awake when I grabbed his cock and started stroking in addition to sucking.

  He threw the covers aside. His expression was one of pleasant surprise. He reached down to pull me up but I shook my head. I wanted to please him with my mouth and taste his cum. I gripped his cock again, and his eyes rolled back into his head.

  I sucked vigorously, my head bobbing up and down as I did. In no time, he was tensing and balling up his fists. He gushed into my mouth with a loud groan. The first wave took me by surprise and I swallowed hungrily. I licked off every last drop.

  “I would not mind waking up like that every day,” Saul said as I slid back up the bed.

  “It’s very effective, I see,” I said.

  “Quite. Far more effective than an alarm, for example.”

  “Hmm. I’ll think about it. I wouldn’t want to spoil you, you know…”

  We had breakfast out by the deck. It was one of those quiet, unremarkable mornings. But I felt happy just sitting out there with Saul. Saul had once told me it was a dream of his to live in a state of nudity. We had done it a few times now, so it did not seem out of the ordinary for us to be seated there completely naked, chatting amicably over coffee and scrambled eggs.

  I toyed with the idea of asking him about the previous night. I was sure I had heard him, but I may have imagined it. It would be nice to get some confirmation. But I knew somehow he would not offer it. It had taken me falling asleep for him to feel comfortable enough to say it out loud. I would take that small victory and run. It was enough that he had said it at all.

  Saul’s phone rang as we ate, and I gathered from what I heard that he had already made inquiries about a hospice.

  “An old family doctor may have found us a hospice,” he told me when he hung up. “We should know more in a little while.”

  “That’s fantastic. Thank you.”

  “Stop it. Korbin is family. I love the old man already.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. He’s a fighter, that one. Pretty athletic, too.”

  I laughed.

  “He would love you too. I know he would. I want to say he will, but I don’t know if he’ll ever go back to being the man I knew.”

  “He will always be that man, Kyler. No matter what happens.”

  We were interrupted again by a vibration, but this time it turned out to be my phone that was ringing. As soon as I glanced at the screen, the pit of my stomach hollowed out.

  I saw the name ‘Nurse Rachael’ on the screen, and I was filled with such dread I was sure my heart had stopped beating.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello. Kyler? This is Nurse Rachael.”

  “Is everything okay? Is my dad okay?”

  “I think you should come right away, Kyler.”

  “What… Is he…”

  “Korbin had a stroke. He’s in the E.R. right now. You should be here, Kyler. Hurry.”

  I don’t remember getting up, or walking to the door, but there I was. I got halfway down the drive before I realized I was still naked. Saul had sprinted after me, his face a picture of confusion. My expression must have been telling, because he swung into action right away. He shepherded me back to the house, urging me to get dressed first. Suddenly, our nudity seemed obscene, selfish. How could we be so obnoxious, when the world outside was turning, and people were fighting for their lives?

  I heard him make a phone call to his pilot asking him to prepare the jet for immediate take-off. I drifted to the bedroom and slipped into the first thing I saw, a pair of sweatpants that I think belonged to Saul. He came in after me and put on pants and a t-shirt. Then he came over to me and hugged me once, very tightly.

  “It will be okay, Kyler.”

  The drive to the airstrip seemed to take hours. It wasn’t scenic anymore, or leisurely quiet. I was suddenly maddened by how long it took to get from the house to the airstrip. Seemed reckless. Who even went that far out of the reach of civilization?

  The plane ride took even longer. I sat mutely in my seat, my feet bobbing up and down. I couldn’t form a single coherent thought. My thoughts zigged and zagged around the singular possibility that my dad was dying, and I was not there with him.

  There were no Buicks to commandeer this time, no gentlemen in black suits waiting to receive our bags. Just a single Jeep waiting for us at L.A.X.

  By the time we got to Cranberry Woods, I was sure I was no longer capable of speech. My throat was like a parched log in the middle of a scorched desert. It was taking more effort than usual just to keep making steps forward.

  The crowd parted as we walked through. Saul immediately turned into the hallway Nurse Rachael had led us down the day before. Before we got much farther, Nurse Rachael came bounding up to us, her cheeks flushed.

  “Kyler! This way.”

  She took off and we followed her. There was an entire section of the building that I had never visited before. It looked and smelled like a hospital, which did not fill me with confidence.

  Dad was in a large ward with large, high windows and a coat of insipid blue paint. His was the only bed in the room. Doctor Whitaker was standing over the bed beside him, poring over a thick chart. He looked u
p as we approached, offering up a sad, wary smile.

  He stepped away from the bed and signaled for us to move to the side of the room with him. Nurse Rachael went to my dad and took his hand. Even from where I stood it looked pale.

  “What happened, Doctor?” I asked.

  “Korbin had a hemorrhagic stroke this morning,” he explained in hushed tones. “Basically, an artery in his brain ruptured, and the blood leaked out into his brain. It is not directly caused by the dementia, but like I explained yesterday, it increased his susceptibility by a significant degree.”

  “What does that mean? Is he okay now?”

  “He’s stable for now. But the pressure in his brain is incredibly high. We took him in for emergency surgery to alleviate some of the pressure, and the surgery was successful. But the stroke means we have to keep him under emergency care, and even then there is very little chance of it stabilizing. I’m sorry, but the outlook is not good.”

  “I still don’t understand what you’re saying, Doctor,” I said, even though I knew exactly what he was getting at. Saul put a hand on my shoulder. It was meant to comfort me, I knew, but it only made me feel even more panicked. It was like they were ganging up on me, forcing unpleasant truths down my throat.

  “I’m really sorry, Kyler, but the chances of your father recovering from this are very slim. I would spend as much time with him as possible.”

  With a final solemn pursing of his lips, he turned and walked out of the room.

  I rushed over to my dad’s side. His head was heavily bandaged around the forehead and the back of the head. Monitors beeped ominously beside him, connected to a myriad of wires that crisscrossed around the bed. Dad himself looked even weaker than he had yesterday. His skin was a shade lighter than it had been, and there were dark circles around his eyes.

  His eyes were closed, but when I reached out and took his other hand, they flickered open. He blinked several times to adjust them to the light. He scanned the room and his eyes fell on me. Almost immediately, his face lit up, and he was once more the Korbin I remembered.

  “Kyler!” he said weakly. And the rush of affection was what finally broke me. My eyes had been getting increasingly moist, and now a tear slid down my cheek.

  “Hey, Dad,” I said.

  “No, no. We won’t have any of that, Son. Come on.”

  A sob rose up in my throat but I swallowed hard to clear it. Dad was smiling up at me like he had not just had his head cut open. He gripped my hand fiercely and made to sit up from the bed. Someone reached out a hand and rested it on his chest, keeping him from doing so. I looked up and saw Saul standing there, his expression tender.

  “Don’t exert yourself, Mr. Nielson,” he said.

  Dad blinked up at him, initially in surprise. And then his eyes went from Saul to me and back again, and realization dawned on him. It was good to see him still sharp.

  “Oh!” he exclaimed. “Kyler, who is this lovely man?”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Dad. This is Saul, my husband.”

  “Husband? But when did this happen?”

  “It’s pretty recent,” I said, suddenly aware of Nurse Rachael’s probing look from the other side of the bed.

  “That is wonderful news! I’m thrilled to hear that. Thrilled! I was beginning to get worried about you, to be honest. All this business with Tinder, and Instagram…”

  Only Korbin Nielson could find time to embarrass his son in his current state. I chortled in spite of myself.

  “Come on, Dad,” I protested.

  “Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Saul. I’m sorry it had to be this way. At least you won’t have to deal with the parental grilling.”

  “I came prepared just in case. I would expect nothing less from the man who raised Kyler.”

  Dad turned to me with his biggest smile yet.

  “I like him, Kyler. Definitely a keeper.”

  “I know, Dad.”

  He turned back to Saul, and his expression was suddenly grim.

  “Don’t let him wallow,” he said to him. “Do you understand me?” Saul nodded, although I wasn’t sure I did.

  “He’s going to want to,” my dad went on. “He’s can sulk for days, this one. He didn’t speak to me for a week when I wouldn’t let him watch Sweeney Todd. He looks happy, and it seems I have you to thank for that. I know he’ll get angry and depressed, but please, don’t let him linger on it. Take care of my boy, will you?”

  It was odd, hearing him talk about me like I wasn’t there. But I understood what he meant, and I pushed the thought from my mind. No. We still had time, surely?

  “Now, if you two will excuse me, I would like a moment alone with Kyler.”

  Nurse Rachael, who had been eerily silent, nodded and walked from the room, Saul following close behind her. Dad waited until the door was shut behind them before speaking to me.

  “Is that Saul McCormick?” he asked. I wondered how long he had been waiting to ask that one.

  “Yeah, how did you know?”

  “Please, Son. I’m dying, not blind.” He smirked. The effort drained the remaining color from his face.

  “Easy, Dad. Save your energy.”

  “He looks different. More gruff. And older. Do you love him?”

  It seemed absurd to be talking about that when there was so much I wanted to tell him.

  “I do.”

  “I can tell. You have a certain glow…”

  “Can we not, Dad? Seriously. We shouldn’t be talking about that right now.”

  I had not meant to be so curt and dismissive. But my dad was deflecting, doing everything to keep from talking about the issue at hand.

  “What do you mean, son?”

  “For fuck’s sake, Dad. You’re dying, and all you want to talk about is my love life.”

  “But there’s nothing more important to me than your happiness, Kyler.”

  “Well, I don’t want to talk about that. I would rather talk about you.”

  A sullen silence fell between us. Dad continued to look at me, making me feel even worse than I already did.

  “There is no moment, Kyler,” he said finally.

  “What?”

  “There is no moment, when all will have been said and I can go in peace. The things you’re desperate to say? I know them. I doubt there will be a grand declaration right before it happens. No, life is messier than that. I love you. You are my life. I want you to be happy. Beyond that, it does not matter what we say to each other. I get to spend these moments with you, and that is more than I could have asked for.”

  He was wrong. There was so much I had not told him, and now time was running out. I had not told him how much he had shaped and molded me. I had not told him how deep his influence had been in my life. He was more than just a father to me. He was a friend, a brother, a role model. I had not told him about that one time I was rebelling against my sexuality, and the first girl I made out with confirmed it to me. I had not told him about my inappropriate attraction to my only uncle, his eldest brother. I had not confessed to my little crimes that had gone ‘unsolved’, like the enormous dent on his car, or the full order of porn magazines that had mysteriously been charged to his credit card. Or that in the early years of my youth I had searched for my other father and gotten as far as finding an address that I had never visited.

  I had not told him about Saul, not in the way I wanted. I had not told him just how much I was in love and how amazing it was.

  So much to say, so little time. In the end, I clambered onto the bed and put my arms around him as gently as I could, settling for an embrace. It was the safer option. I had lost the battle with my tears, which were now cascading down my face.

  I held him like that until the machines began to beep and wail.

  Korbin Nielson died as he had lived most of his life; quietly, on his own terms, and in the company of the only person he truly cared about. I managed to hold it in all the way back to the airplane, knowing instinctively that whe
n I let go I would not be able to stop.

  And when I finally did let go, the sobs that rocked me came in endless waves. I cried until my eyes were painful, until my throat was raw. I went to sleep sobbing and woke up in a pool of my tears. All along, the silhouette of a tall, bearded man hovered around me quietly, watching over me.

  16

  Saul

  I had never felt so helpless in my life. Two days after his dad passed, Kyler had not said a single word to me. He had barely moved. Once we got back home, he had dug himself into a spot on the bed from which he had not emerged. He lay so still I started to get worried. Sometimes the only indicator he was still alive were the silent sobs he tried and failed to suppress.

  All I could do was hover. I tried bringing him food, but he would only nibble at it and push it away. He would get up in the dead of the night to go to the bathroom, and once or twice I heard the patter of feet in the kitchen, or the refrigerator door opening and closing. Then he would crawl right back into bed and fall back into his stupor.

  I felt powerless. I felt like I was intruding on his pain, his need to be alone. Worse still, I felt like I was disobeying Korbin’s wishes even before he had been buried. Don’t let him sulk, he had instructed me. But I reasoned that there was no right way to grieve, and I reasoned that I would intervene when things got really bad.

  Thankfully, I did not have to.

  On the fourth day, I woke up and the first thing I noticed was that Kyler had left his spot on the bed. I panicked, fearing he might have done something drastic, but almost immediately I heard movement from somewhere in the house. I got up, dressed quickly and went in search of him.

  He was in the kitchen. He had showered and shaved the stubble that had begun to dot his chin. He was bent over a saucepan. He turned when I entered the kitchen. He walked silently towards me and I instinctively spread out my arms. He walked into the hug and I wrapped him up.

 

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