Rewind Boxed Set

by Rowan Shaw

  "That's not what everybody said."

  "They were wrong. And who's 'everybody' anyway?"

  "My parents. Your parents." He averted his eyes again.

  "What do you mean? My parents never blamed you..."

  Florian stared at me. "When I called, they said you couldn't talk on the phone, and you didn't want to see me," he signed after pulling his hand away from mine.

  I froze. "They said what now?"

  "You didn't know?" he asked with a puzzled frown. "That's why I was concerned at the club. I wasn't sure you'd even wanna talk to me. I thought you never wanted to see me again."

  I shook my head. "No, I thought you didn't want to talk to me. I thought you were freaked out, or you'd decided to move on. All those years, I thought..."

  Florian's eyes roamed my face with such intensity, it was impossible to look away. "Enzo, I never moved on."

  Chapter 19

  FLORIAN - EIGHT YEARS EARLIER

  When my mom arrived at Saint Julien Hospital, she ran to me and pulled me into her arms. My eyes were still burning from tears I could not repress. The doctors hadn't given me any news of Enzo, and I was worried sick.

  "What happened? Are you okay?" she asked, never letting me go.

  I shook my head against her chest. "No, I'm not okay."

  "What happened? You said you were attacked. Where did that happen?"

  "Enzo..."

  She pulled away to cup my face, and when her eyes met mine, it was even harder to say the words. How could I tell my mom Enzo and I were attacked because we were kissing in broad daylight? I knew her views on gay people.

  "Can I stay here until his parents arrive?" I asked.

  My mom looked at her watch and shook her head. "I'm supposed to get back to work. I can't come to pick you up later. Your father is out of town until Sunday, and—"

  "I can stay here. You can pick me up whenever you want. I'll stay the night if I have to," I pleaded. I couldn't believe she thought work more important than spending time with me when I'd just been attacked. But then again, of course she did.

  "I don't know, Florian. Enzo's family will ask to be alone with him."

  I gave a short, sad nod. "I'm supposed to testify in front of the police. I want them to find the person who did this."

  "I don't understand. Why would anyone attack two young boys like you? Did they steal your wallet?"

  I blinked and swallowed hard. "No."

  My mom pinned her dark blue eyes on mine and waited for an explanation I didn't want to give. I was so scared of her reaction, but it was probably better to let it out now in public than face a scene at home.

  My gaze dropped to the ground when I mumbled, "Enzo and I were kissing."

  I didn't glance at her when she asked me to repeat louder.

  "Enzo and I were kissing," I whispered.

  My mother froze. Her entire body tensed, her vibe shifting from welcoming warmth to repelling cold. She stood there in shock, barely able to croak, "What did you just say?"

  I didn't want to repeat myself again.

  "What do you mean you were kissing?" Her voice rose a bit too high. She took a quick glance around to make sure no one had heard. Before she could ask again, Enzo's parents arrived, saving me from having to detail the situation.

  When Mrs. Chevalier came toward me, she looked disheveled like she had run fast to get here. Her husband's face was red and puffy, his forehead sweaty.

  "Florian, sweetheart." She pulled me into a comforting hug. "What happened?"

  "He just told me they were kissing," my mom replied like that was the only thing that mattered.

  "A man walked up to us, and he..." I couldn't breathe anymore. I shuddered just remembering how he had grabbed Enzo and punched him so hard that Enzo's head hit the wall before the man pulled out his knife.

  Mrs. Chevalier sought my eyes for answers I couldn't articulate.

  "He hit Enzo," I let out when a sob came, choking me. "He hit Enzo so hard."

  She looked down at my clothes that were covered in Enzo's blood. "Did he hurt you too? Is Enzo okay?"

  I shook my head. I couldn't understand why the man had targeted Enzo and not me.

  "They were kissing," my mom said again.

  Mrs. Chevalier looked at her and narrowed her eyes. "Yes, you've said that already." She glanced at me. "Was this a homophobic attack?"

  I nodded without a word. Enzo's dad clenched his jaw and balled his fists. "Those damn prejudiced pricks!"

  My mom stared at him like he had three pairs of eyes. "You knew?"

  He turned to her and knit his brow. "That my son is gay? Yes, of course I knew." He looked at me and then back at my mom. "You didn't know Enzo and Florian were dating?"

  I closed my eyes, not wanting to face my mom. But when she grabbed my shoulder hard, I had no choice but to face her. She was staring at me, horrified.

  "You and Enzo?" she stuttered. "But we invited him to our house. He came for sleepovers. How long has this been going on?"

  "I'm really sorry, but I don't have time for this," Mrs. Chevalier cut her off.

  Her husband took her hand and walked her to the counter, where they gave their names and the secretary asked them to wait while she called a doctor.

  Without letting me say goodbye, my mom dragged me toward the exit, her hand wrapped around my wrist like a vise. Her back was ramrod straight, her face a curl of discontent. I was in for a serious lecture, but I couldn't be bothered to care. My boyfriend was unconscious, and I just wanted him to be okay.

  Chapter 20

  ENZO - NOW

  "Enzo, there are things you won't be able to do anymore." I stood in my mother's kitchen remembering those exact words from my doctor back when I was only eighteen years old. Nice way to slash into a young man's dreams. I remembered looking at him and then at my mom while the doctor continued knifing through my hopes. "Even with your cochlear implant, things won't be the same. There are professions you won't be able to do, activities that won't be open to you."

  My mom was deeply pained by that, but I'd refused to believe the doctor's claims.

  "I don't think that's true. I won't let my deafness define everything I am. It's just a part of me now, but it's not all I am."

  What was the point of getting an implant if people were going to set limits for me without giving me a chance?

  My mom had stared at me, unsure how to react. "Enzo..." she'd said before her voice fell into silence.

  "I'm not sitting here listening to one more person telling me I can't do things. I've already lost an entire school year because of this. That's all I'm willing to give."

  Upon that, my mom had extended her hand to our doctor. "Thank you for your help, docteur."

  The doctor had looked at me, barely reacting. I could tell from the flash of his eyes that he didn't believe I could move on with my life and achieve all the goals I set for myself. That was when I'd decided to prove him wrong.

  Now, at age twenty-six, I had the career I'd always wanted, an apartment of my own, and more freedom than most people could even dream of.

  When I sat at my mother’s table, she handed me a cup of coffee and asked if I was hungry.

  "No," I signed. I wasn't in the mood for food or pleasantries. Florian's words had haunted me all night. I finally had one piece of the puzzle. I only needed the rest of it to see the full picture.

  "What's new with you?" Mom asked and sat down.

  I looked her in the eyes and took a sip. I had a hard time believing she could have lied to me all those years. Honesty was a fundamental value in our family. "I have a question for you, and I need a real answer."

  She puckered her brow. "I think you know I never lie."

  "Don't you?" I asked, beholding her.

  "Excuse me?"

  I held her stare.

  "Why don't you say what you mean to say? I don't appreciate random accusations, Enzo."

  "When I was at the hospital, did Florian call to ask about me?"
/>   My mom looked to the side, avoiding eye contact, and wrung her hands together. "Why are you asking?"

  "I'm the one with the questions here. Is it a yes or a no?"

  Her back tensed almost imperceptibly. "No."

  I raised an eyebrow at her lie. How could she face me and not tell me the truth?

  "Why are you asking?" She made the mistake of speaking out loud, her voice betraying her emotions. "It was years ago."

  "I've been thinking about him, and I was wondering if it was true he didn't care about me back then."

  She let out a long sigh. "Is this because of Cyrille? Really, Enzo, just because those men didn't treat you the way you deserve doesn't mean you're not worthy."

  I shook my head and signed, "This isn't about Cyrille. I just want to know if Florian ever called during all those years. That's all."

  "No, he didn't."

  I clenched my jaw. "I see."

  I stood from my chair, slamming it a bit too hard against the table.

  A look of panic flashed through my mother's eyes. "Where are you going?"

  "I'm leaving, obviously."

  I was done with the duplicity. Someone in this story was lying to me, and I didn't think it was Florian. The pain in his eyes had felt too real. His regret was genuine. He seemed to truly believe I didn't want to see him all those years. But his affection was all I craved back then. I was in agony thinking he had left me there, alone in that hospital, more terrified than I'd ever been in my life. All those years, it hurt me so much to think he didn't care.

  I was angry Florian was led to believe I didn't care either. Someone else had made that choice for me. They'd taken away my chance to comfort him and seek solace from him. Florian was my sanctuary back then. He was the one I always ran to when I had a problem and needed to feel safe. My own family had stolen that security from me without asking.

  "Enzo," my mom bellowed, raising her voice at me because, for some reason, she still thought arguments held more bearing if they were yelled at people. After living with me for so long, she should have known better. Shouting did nothing for me. And if she kept on screaming in my face, I would just turn off my processor and ignore her.

  "Why?" she asked more calmly as she stood across the table. "Why are you leaving?"

  "You can't be honest with me," I signed, refusing to shout back at her. "So I don't see why I should be here."

  When I moved to go, she walked around the table and grabbed my wrist. "What do you want to know?"

  "I just told you. I want to know if Florian asked about me when I was at the hospital. And I don't want lies this time."

  "But why?" She looked so distraught, I almost felt bad for her. "Why do you need to know that now after all those years?"

  "Because it is my right to know." No way was I telling her what was going on between Florian and me. She had lost the privilege to know about my life the moment I found out everything about my past was a lie.

  Doubt veiled her face. "Something happened, didn't it? What is this about?"

  I lost patience and walked to the door. When I reached for the knob, she said one word that cut me more than I could explain. "Oui."

  I sent her a glance to make sure I had heard her correctly. "Did you just say yes?" I signed.

  "Yes, I did. And yes, he did call."

  I closed my eyes, unsure how to react. It felt like the world was crumbling down on me. Everything I thought I knew was a fabrication of my own family.

  "All those years, I thought he didn't care about me," I said aloud, my voice shaking before I signed, "Do you have any idea how that made me feel? I thought he had used me. That I meant nothing to him. I was there, alone. I couldn't hear anymore. I couldn't understand a single thing the doctors were saying. I thought my boyfriend didn't even care enough to support me or visit me. I felt so lonely, maman. And all those years, you knew. You could have relieved my pain, but you didn't. Why?"

  My mom's face was impassive, but for a tiny wince.

  "He did visit too, didn't he?" I asked, reading her more accurately than I wanted to. That I could tell what people thought before they even spoke was a blessing and a curse, a skill I had developed because I couldn't hear the lies in their voices anymore and had to read the signs from their physical cues. "When I was at the hospital, did he visit?"

  "Those visits were restricted to family only. But when you came home, he tried."

  "He tried?" I blinked. "So it's all true, then. You prevented him from seeing me?"

  She nodded reluctantly. "We did it for your own good."

  "For my own good? How was that for my own good?"

  "He was there that day. He was there when you were attacked."

  "So what? I was there too!" I signed because I was ready to explode, and I didn't want to stoop so low as to yell at my own mother. "You thought if I didn't see him, I wouldn't be gay anymore. Is that it? You thought it would protect me from all the haters out there?"

  "It had nothing to do with you being gay!"

  "Oh, really? I still don't understand why, then."

  She took a step toward me. "You know your father and I never minded that you're gay, Enzo. Don't twist our intentions and invent things that aren't true. Florian was like a second son to us. We loved him dearly."

  "Really?" I scoffed. "You had some nice way of showing it—by cutting him off like that for no reason. So if I screw up, will you stop seeing me too the same way you did him?"

  "Of course not. You're my son! My flesh and blood." She studied me, her eyes roaming my face as she added, "He called for months after what happened, but I wanted to protect you—"

  She bit her tongue; she'd said too much.

  "For months?" I stood there while everything I thought I knew crashed around me. "You never told me. How could you hide this from me? For so long?"

  "We thought it would be best if you didn't know. Florian was trouble."

  "Trouble?"

  "You could have died, Enzo. We weren't thinking clearly. Your well-being was all that mattered to us. And then there was all the re-education and learning a whole new language to communicate with you. There was no space for Florian in your life anymore."

  I shook my head, tempted to turn off my processor because I'd heard enough for one day, and I couldn't stand the sound of her voice anymore.

  "It takes two people to kiss, in case you didn't know," I signed. "If Florian was trouble for touching me that day, then so was I. I'm the one who kissed him first. I kissed him that day, and I pinned him against that wall in that alley, then I grabbed him and stroked him until he was too aroused to think. When that man walked in on us, I was getting ready to drop to my knees. And that wasn't our first time either. Every time we had those so-called sleepovers, what did you think we were doing up there in my room? And you know what? I don't regret a second of it. Those were the best years of my life!"

  Her eyes widened in horror at my crudeness, but I simply did not care. I had never spoken to my mom that way before, but I was done playing nice. She wanted to accuse Florian of being trouble. I wouldn't let her. All those years ago, it was I who had talked him into moving to third base. I went down on him first. And if me pleasing my boyfriend was me being trouble, then so be it.

  "Don't be rude!" she snapped. "I don't need the details."

  "Oh, but I think you do. If you want to blame someone for what happened that day, it should be me."

  "Enzo..." She inched forward again, but I couldn't look at her anymore. "That man who attacked you... You were not responsible for his hatred and bigotry."

  I hated the pity in her eyes. It was misplaced, almost insulting.

  "Neither was Florian." I shook my head, truly disgusted. "He was the love of my life! Don't you get it? You forced him away from me. The one person who meant the world to me!"

  She startled, then closed the distance between us. "You were so young, Enzo. You're not thinking clearly. How could he matter so much to you? It was just teenage love, that's all. You rememb
er him fondly because you were still—"

  I clenched my teeth and stormed out of my parents' house, angrier than I had been in years—almost as livid as I was that day the doctor listed all the things I couldn't do anymore.

  I slipped my hands in my pockets and walked fast. My mom shouted my name behind my back, but I grabbed my processor and turned it off so I wouldn't hear her voice anymore. I wanted her and everyone else to leave me alone.

  All those years, I had gone through so much pain thinking Florian didn't love me, only to find out he had cared all along. It infuriated me to think I would still be in the dark had I not run into him at that club.

  I took out my phone and typed furiously.

  Me: He cared all along.

  I had to wait a bit before my phone's screen lit up.

  Patrick: Who?

  Me: Florian. My parents lied to me. He called for months after the attack. They never told me. They prevented him from seeing me.

  Patrick: Are you sure? Who told you that? Florian?

  Me: I just asked my mom.

  Patrick: I don't know, mon lapin. They probably wanted to protect you.

  Me: Please tell me you are not siding with them right now!

  Patrick: I'm just saying.

  I so couldn't deal with this.

  Me: Fine! Forget it!

  I was about to pocket my phone, but I hit another number instead.

  Me: We need to talk.

  Unlike Patrick, my sister replied instantly.

  Adèle: Are you okay?

  Me: No, I'm not okay.

  Adèle: I'm at work. I'm about to go to a meeting with the worst client you could imagine. Can we meet later? Are you gonna be okay or do I need to pretend I'm sick and come pick you up?

  Me: No, it can wait until tonight.

  I didn't want her to lose a client. Any advertising she did for other big companies was good to advance her career.

  I hesitated before typing again.

  Me: Did you know about Florian? Did you know he called when I was at the hospital?

  When she replied, the delay in her answer was enough of a response.

  Adèle: Yes, I knew.

  Chapter 21

  FLORIAN - EIGHT YEARS EARLIER