by Rowan Shaw
I laughed at that. "You are many things, Marlène, but a bad lay definitely isn't one of them."
She beheld me proudly and flashed a smirk. "Yes, I know that."
I shook my head. She would always be the same, after all—overly confident, thirsty for vengeance. I reached for the phone on her nightstand table and dialed 17.
Chapter 46
ENZO
I smiled at Samuel, the kid I was tutoring, while he read the next word on the page, sitting at the kitchen table of his mom's apartment. We were reviewing the lessons of his school manual, trying to gauge how much he could read on his own. Though his mom knew some sign language, she wasn't fluent, and Samuel needed to improve his reading. I wasn't sure where his dad was, but he was out of the picture.
Samuel became deaf at age five when he got sick with mumps. He currently went to a hearing school, but he had no cochlear implant, and the classes weren't adapted to his needs. I'd managed to talk his mom into moving him to a school for deaf kids this fall. He'd be starting in two weeks. She'd been reluctant at first, but now that Samuel could read better, she saw the benefits of learning through French Sign Language.
The kid laughed when I signed and pointed at the word, "Cat."
He was a sweet boy. At age seven, he was well-behaved and had a real thirst for learning.
"Rat," I signed next and followed the word with my finger. Then I asked him to identify a few different words of his own and sign them for me, which he did perfectly.
When he grew older, I hoped he'd get to attend the middle school where I taught. The meeting at work had gone as planned. The principal loved my ideas and said he would help me present the project to the Board. I was still nervous, but I trusted things would work out in the end.
I pointed at another word when Samuel's mom, Aurore, entered the kitchen.
"Would you like anything to drink?" she asked and left a plate of madeleines on the table. Samuel stared at them and licked his lips.
"No, thanks," I signed.
She ruffled Samuel's red hair, then sat at the table with us. The boy's deep turquoise blue eyes rose to hers. "I learned a bunch of words today, maman," he signed.
"I'm proud of you," she signed back.
Samuel beamed and leaned into her for a hug. She pulled him onto her lap and looked at me, her cheeks flaming.
"Thank you for everything you're doing for him. I could never repay you for what you brought into his life."
I flicked my hand. "It's no trouble, really. I love spending time with him. He's so easy to teach."
I wished I could say the same about all the kids I tutored; they weren't all that well-behaved. Aurore watched me a bit longer as if she meant to add something but was weighing her words carefully.
"Do you have any children of your own?"
I wondered if she was using spoken language because she wasn't fluent enough in sign language, or if she didn't want Samuel to know what she was saying. When the little boy realized the conversation didn't involve him, he stirred in her lap and grabbed a madeleine.
"No, I don't have any kids," I acknowledged while Samuel chewed loudly.
"Maybe someday," his mom said.
I doubted that. The only option for me would be adoption. That wasn't an easy task. I didn't tell her that, though.
"Is your wife also deaf?"
I stared at her, unsure whether to speak the truth or lie by omission. I chose the latter. "I'm not married."
"Oh, a girlfriend, then?"
I was getting uncomfortable with this conversation. I'd noticed her sneaking glances of interest at me every time I was here, but I was hoping it was just my imagination.
"I don't have a girlfriend, no."
Hiding part of the truth wasn't working in my favor. She looked at me as if there was some kind of opening right there for her.
"I really like what you're doing with Samuel. It's been hard since his father left us."
"When did he leave?"
"When Samuel was five and we found out he was deaf."
Ouch!
"That was a terrible thing to do," was all I could say.
She gave a sad nod. "I was wondering if you would like to come for dinner sometime. Samuel really likes you, and you're so good to him."
I didn't know how to get out of this one. I didn't mind coming for dinner, but it was obvious she was expecting something from me I could not provide. It wasn't the first time a woman asked me out, but refusing the invitation never failed to get awkward.
"I truly appreciate the offer, Aurore, but it might be best for Samuel if I keep this to tutoring sessions only."
"Oh." Her shoulders sagged, though she feigned a smile.
I didn't want her to think there was anything wrong with her or her child. "It's nothing against you. It's just...I like men."
She stared at me, her cheeks burning a deeper red. "Oh. I didn't realize."
I gave her a small, comforting grin. "I hope it won't be a problem. I mean..."
I was well aware some parents didn't want gay men around their kids. Their reaction was absurd, of course, but prejudice was a sad reality.
"I don't mind that you're gay, Enzo." She averted her eyes. "Just a bit disappointed, I guess."
I wasn't sure what to say. Thankfully, my phone beeped.
"Excuse me a second." I grabbed my cell from the table and read the words.
LGBT Center: Enzo, your project has been approved for the fundraiser. Could you come to the Center so we may discuss the details?
Chapter 47
FLORIAN
When the doorbell rang, I didn't want to get off the couch. Amal was out with a friend, and I was half-snoozing, half-watching a marathon of Plus Belle La Vie. Whoever was out there could go to hell as far as I was concerned. Sadly, they seemed bent upon disturbing me. When I didn't respond to the bell ringing, they started pounding while keeping their finger on the buzzer.
I forced myself up and dragged my feet to the foyer, ready to berate whomever the fuck that was. It'd better be important. I was wearing nothing but my pajama pants, and at this point, I didn't give a rat's ass what they thought of my outfit.
I turned the lock, yanked the door open, and stared at the man standing in the hall. He raised his head, his sharp green eyes locking on me before raking every line of my pecs and abs.
"Well, now I understand why Enzo can't get you out of his head," he snickered.
"Patrick, to what do I owe the pleasure?" I asked, wondering how the hell he'd gotten my home address anyway.
"May I come in?" he asked, then pushed past me without an invitation.
I followed him to my own living room like the place belonged to him and raised a finger. "Gimme a minute."
"Oh, don't change on my behalf," he laughed, still checking me out. "I love looking at beautiful pieces of art."
I rolled my eyes and left to change, then came back wearing a white shirt over my pajama pants. Patrick was standing there, his arms crossed, his green eyes perusing the pictures on the wall.
"This isn't my place," I commented.
"I know. It's really nice."
"Why are you here?" I cut all the pleasantries. I knew he didn't like me; his presence here couldn't be a good thing.
"Enzo isn't well. I need you to clean up the shit you left behind."
I frowned. "What's wrong with Enzo?"
"What do you think?"
"It's better for him if we're not together."
Although, now that I knew who had taken aim at my business and I'd called the cops, I wasn't so sure about my decision to push Enzo away. I sacrificed what we had, and for what?
"That's not for just you to decide, though, is it?" Patrick asked, then let himself drop on my couch. The guy was all elegance and flamboyance even in his most casual moves.
"Enzo is a grown man, you know?" he continued. "He's a big boy. I wasn't so sure you'd be good for him. I had my reservations. But I saw his spirits lift up when you were around, and I wat
ched him drown when you left. As much as I'd like to deny it, you were perfect for him, and I know he still wants you. So if you'd stop acting like some spoiled brat for a second and ask him back, you might still stand a chance."
'Thanks for the pep talk," I shot back and took the seat next to him.
"Whether you date him or not won't change the fact that he's gay. It won't protect him from all the haters out there. All it will do is open the door for another man who'll get to fuck him and sleep in his bed every night instead of you. Is that really what you want?"
I gritted my teeth. No, it wasn't what I wanted. At all. But I couldn't bear the responsibility of Enzo getting hurt again.
"You know what I think?" he asked.
No, I didn't know, but I had no doubt he'd be telling me shortly, arrogant ass that he was.
"I think you're selfish."
"Selfish?" He was pushing my buttons all right.
"Yes, you're selfish. You like to pretend you broke up with Enzo to protect him, but realistically, you're only protecting yourself. You're so afraid that something might happen to him because of his relationship with you, it hasn't crossed your mind that not everything is about you. Enzo doesn't care about the risks. He just wants to live his life, but you took that choice away from him. You didn't even stop to wonder what he wanted or how he felt. You only thought about how things might affect you if something went wrong. And that makes you selfish."
"And what do you suggest I do?"
He arched an eyebrow again. It had to be a tick of his or something. "I suggest you move your ass and get him back. And I suggest you do it soon because Cyrille's already on the move. I may have had my reservations about you, but Cyrille is a whole different story. He isn't worth shit, and I'll be damned if I let my best friend get back together with that prick."
His words gutted me. I thought Cyrille was finally out of the picture. I wanted Enzo to be happy, but I sure as hell didn't want him to fall back into Cyrille's claws.
"Enzo should know better," Patrick said, "but when he's at his lowest, he becomes vulnerable. Cyrille is really good at using that to his advantage. He's done it to Enzo many times before, and he will do it again."
"I thought Enzo was over him."
"I thought so too, but Cyrille texted him yesterday. They're meeting today. So, I'd suggest you move your sorry, whiny ass quickly and go tell Enzo you want him back. Because you're not fooling me. I've seen the way you look at him. I know you love him. And I know you treat him well. But you're going to lose him, and there won't be any chance of rewinding if Enzo gets back with Cyrille. The guy's like a drug, nefarious but addictive. It took Enzo months to get over him, and I don't care to see him go through that again."
My insides twisted. It was hard enough imagining someone in bed with Enzo, but thinking it might be Cyrille made me want to punch the wall. I left the living room without a word and went to my room to change into actual clothes. Fuck showering! I didn't have time.
Patrick was waiting for me in the hall by the time I returned.
"Is he home?" I asked.
"I think so. Hopefully, you're not too late."
My phone rang right then. I was going to let the call go to my messages, but I picked it up anyway. Damn my stupid addiction!
"Allô, Florian Beaudry on the phone."
"Florian, this is Myriam from the LGBT Center."
I narrowed my eyes. What in the world?!
"I'm listening."
"Your troubles came to our attention recently, and we would like to offer our help."
I paused and sent a quick glance at Patrick, who was staring at his manicured nails, not minding me one bit.
"Excuse me, but I don't understand."
"The Center would like to host a fundraiser to help you recover."
"A fundraiser?" I wasn't even a member of the Center. What was this all about?
"First, we would need you to meet with us to sign an agreement and finalize the proposal. That is, if you are interested, of course."
I blinked. "Excuse me, but I still don't understand. A fundraiser? What fundraiser?"
"A volunteer here at the Center asked us to help you. We reviewed your case, and as part of our mission to fight anti-LGBT prejudice, we decided to assist you. We don't usually volunteer to help private businesses, but you are part of the community. You're technically family. The fundraiser isn't entirely selfless either. The Center sees it as a way to raise awareness for our community as well."
"May I ask who the volunteer is?" I didn't know anyone who worked at the Center.
"He asked to remain anonymous. We shall refer to him as your fairy godfather." She let out a laugh at her own pun.
I creased my eyes, still confused while Patrick stood there, watching me without a word.
"Would you come in today so we may discuss everything? I'm afraid we won't be able to host the fundraiser for another month or so, but we're trying to get things ready as fast as we can. All we need is your authorization."
I nodded. "Yes, of course."
"The sooner the better."
"I..." Enzo was my priority today. No matter what. "Could I come in later in the day? How late are you open?"
"We're closing at eight tonight."
"Would seven work?" I hated imposing my hours like that, but it was two already. I didn't want to miss Enzo. I would set up camp outside his apartment if I had to.
"Seven P.M. it is. See you then."
She hung up, and I glanced at Patrick, flabbergasted. Someone had gone out of their way to help me. Without even telling me about it or seeking credit for it.
"What?" Patrick asked.
"I don't know. I just...I don't know anymore."
Chapter 48
ENZO
After receiving Cyrille's message, I asked him to meet me at some brasserie downtown. I didn't want to go to his place and give him the wrong idea. I knew all too well how things worked with him, and I was done playing that game. I'd already made my decision, and I wasn't about to let him sway me with his sweet lies.
I noticed him the moment I walked in and paused for a second, surprised he'd arrived early. That wasn't like him. Cyrille was always late. That was his way of letting everyone else know he mattered more than they did.
"Hey," I said as I approached his table and sat down. I placed my umbrella at my feet, then shook off my jacket.
His gray eyes geared toward my ear and narrowed upon noticing I wasn't wearing my processor. I never wore it when it rained. The risk of it getting damaged was too great.
"How have you been?" I signed.
"I've been well," he replied out loud, though of course, I could only tell by reading his lips. "You seem well."
I cut him off, "How about you tell me why you wanted to see me?"
"I miss you," he said, going straight to the point.
Yes, I knew that. He'd already told me at the club and then again after the school meeting.
I didn't reply. Though Cyrille was unbearably handsome, I failed to see how I'd let myself fall for him. His personality was everything I hated.
"Can you say something?" he asked. "I just said I missed you."
"What would you like me to say?"
"That you miss me too. I know you do. You wouldn't have come here if you didn't."
"I'm with someone else," I lied.
He cocked an eyebrow. "Florian? The blond guy from the club? I thought that was over."
I shifted in my seat.
"What does Florian have to offer you that I don't?" he asked, staring me down in that challenging way of his, as if I couldn't possibly answer that question.
I shook my head at his arrogance. "He's not a cheat, first of all."
Cyrille gave me a sad grin. "That you know of."
His words punched me hard, but I raised my chin and glared him down. "You and me, it's over, Cyrille. It was over the day you chose to dip your dick into some other man's ass."
He winced, his eyes widening at my l
anguage. "I've changed. I want you back."
Liar! Guys like him never changed.
"Stop acting like I owe it to you to be with you," I signed. "I don't need you."
His smile turned nasty. "So you found someone else who could deal with your issues, and you think that entitles you to reject me. After everything I've done for you."
I ground my teeth, unable to hide my irritation. "The things you've done for me?" I signed quickly, growing truly irate. "Like what? Like sleeping with other guys behind my back? Like telling me I'm not worthy of love? Like treating my deafness like a handicap?"
"It is a handicap," he snapped. I could tell from the reactions of those around us that he had said it loud enough to raise attention. I rounded my eyes at him in warning.
"It is not a handicap. And even if it were, that wouldn't make me inferior to you. Your lack of understanding, your narrow-mindedness, those are handicaps," I signed. "Why won't you sign when I know you can?"
"Because I shouldn't indulge you."
"Indulge me?" I signed faster. "As a CODA, you should be ashamed of yourself! I shouldn't have to wear my processor in the rain and risk damaging it just because you think I should fit into your world, because you believe I should accommodate you! You can communicate in my language. You just choose not to. I do not owe it to you to try and hear what you have to say when you can actually si—"
"And I don't fucking owe it to you to sign!" he snapped, mouthing every word like I was some idiot when he knew slowing down the pace of his speech actually made it harder for me to understand him.
I pointed at him. "This right here is why I can't be with you," I said out loud. He wanted to play his little games and yell at me for everyone to hear. Fine! I could play that game too. "That's exactly why I came here to tell you to leave me alone. You can hear me clearly now, right? Leave me the fuck alone, Cyrille!"
I had no idea how loud my voice was, and I didn't care. I grabbed my jacket, ready to leave, but he pulled at my wrist.
"Don't leave! I'm not done."
"Well, I am." I tried to pull away, but his grip tightened, his eyes sparkling viciously.
