by Hayden Hunt
I did like this about her, that she was so outgoing. I wasn’t naturally outgoing at all and it was nice that she would talk and I was able to take a back seat to all the attention.
“Well, don’t judge me, but a few guy friends of mine actually come over and we play a lot of video games. I know, pretty nerdy of us, but what can I say, it’s fun.”
“Oh, you won’t get judgement from us! Whenever I come home, that’s all Miles is doing. Playing video games.”
Of course, I got off of them as soon as she got home and I didn’t get much time to myself, so it wasn’t something I wasted too much time on. But it did take the edge off of a long day.
“Oh, nice, what kind of games do you play?”
“Mostly first person shooters,” I told him.
“Hey, us too.” He smiled politely.
“Oh, how nice!” Chelsea butted in. “You should start something like that, honey, a game night with some friends.”
Except for that to work I’d have to actually have friends to play with, which I did not. Slowly but surely, all of my old friends had left our home town to move on to bigger and better things. Me and Chelsea were among the few people in our graduation class who still lived here.
“Yeah, maybe I will,” I said, because I wasn’t going to tell this baker about how I had no friends to invite.
“Well, you’re welcome to join our game night, if you want. We’re always looking for other guys to join. This town doesn’t seem to have a lot of people our age, you know?”
“Oh, babe, how fun would that be! You should totally go.” She turned to Aidan. “You’re having one tonight, you said?”
“Yeah, at my place, go ahead and come through! I’ll make sure you have the address before you guys leave. It’s starting at 6:30.”
“Oh, uh, all right then,” I said awkwardly.
I was cursing Chelsea in my head. This was one of those times her outgoing nature did not work out in my favor. I didn’t want to go hang out at this stranger’s house with a bunch of guys I didn’t know, but she didn’t even give me the option to say no. She volunteered me before I had a chance to say anything.
“Should he bring anything?” Chelsea asked for me.
“Nah, I’ve already got people bringing beer and snacks, so just bring yourself.”
“Great!” She grinned.
I wasn’t at all surprised she was so eager about this. She was always trying to get me to go out and make friends and I was always resisting.
“So, have we decided on any other flavors besides chocolate?” he continued, getting back down to business.
Chelsea proceeded to choose vanilla and red velvet. She had been taking bites of samples between talking. She wanted to keep it traditional, that was what she said. It was what she kept saying about everything.
I had begun to loathe the word. Traditional, what the hell did it even mean? I mean, we were already getting married, wasn’t that traditional enough?
I couldn’t really explain why the word got to me so bad. It made me realize that what she really wanted was a traditional life. A nice house, white picket fence, two kids. And the more I thought about a life of tradition, the more bored I got.
But that was to be expected, right? You grew older and life got boring. That was just how things went. There was no point in fighting it. Eventually, this was always going to be my life. And I was sure I’d learn to love it.
But right now, I just didn’t love much. I felt consumed by my negativity. I couldn’t think positively about anything. I didn’t have it in me at the moment.
“Okay, let me go ahead and write this order up and get you a receipt,” Aidan said, standing up from the table and going behind the counter.
“You really do like the cake, right?” Chelsea whispered to me.
“Yeah, love it,” I said, trying to keep my tone from sounding sarcastic and failing miserably.
He came back with the receipt and Chelsea handed him her credit card. I only caught a glimpse of the receipt before he took the card, but it was long enough to see the cake was a couple hundred bucks.
It all seemed so pointless. I had used a ton of my life savings on her ring so Chelsea was using most of her savings on the wedding, with the help of her parents. Why were we doing this? Why were we spending all this money for one day? If she wanted traditional so bad, shouldn’t we be saving for that big house and future college funds for our children?
This was the real reason I hated doing any wedding planning. For the most part, I was able to push the wedding out of my head on a day to day basis. I didn’t have to think about how annoyed I was or how pointless it all seemed. I could go about my day and ignore the whole thing.
But I couldn’t ignore it when I was out here like this, staring it in the face. And I couldn’t control how frustrated it made me.
Which was a problem, because I really didn’t want Chelsea to know. She was disappointed enough knowing I didn’t have much interest in this shit.
After Chelsea made the payment and I got Aidan’s address, we said our goodbyes and see-you-laters and went to the car. It was a drive that was almost identical to the one we went on the way to the bakery. We were silent for the first five minutes and then Chelsea tried to force small talk.
“That chocolate really was good, wasn’t it?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I answered.
“And don’t you think you’ll have fun tonight hanging out with Aidan and his friends?”
“Not really,” I answered honestly.
“Seriously?” She raised an eyebrow. “You’re not excited in the least?”
“Nope. Not really. Probably would have preferred to play games at home but whatever. What’s done is done.”
I didn’t say it in an angry tone or anything, but Chelsea immediately went on the defensive.
“I was only trying to help you out. You never go anywhere or see anyone. I’m concerned about the fact that you make no friends. I think it’ll be good for you!”
I nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
We were quiet the rest of the way home.
We were quiet all the way to the house, too. It was until I sat on the couch that Chelsea sat next to me and tried to talk again.
“It really seems like you’re not that interested in this wedding stuff,” she said suddenly.
“Well, I guess I’m not,” I answered honestly.
She nodded, clearly disappointed but unsure of what else to say. Then, without warning, she leaned in and kissed me.
It wasn’t just a peck, either. It was a full on, passionate, let’s-fuck kiss. She hadn’t kissed me like that since… Well, I couldn’t even remember.
I pulled away instantly, trying to hide the disgust I felt when she stuck her tongue down my throat.
“Not now,” I told her. “I have to get ready to go to this game night.”
Now her frustration was finally showing. “Miles, do you know how long it’s been?”
“How long it’s been since what?” I asked, though I already knew. This was me stalling.
“Since we had sex.”
“No.” I shrugged. “Not that long.”
“Months!” she said instantly. “And before that? Even more months! I don’t even think we’ve had sex more than a handful of times in the last year!”
“What do you want me to say?!” I snapped. “I’m busy! You volunteered me for this stupid fucking game night without so much as asking me. Now I’ve got to go to it and try to be friendly to people I don’t even know. Maybe if you hadn’t done that, I could have had sex with you tonight.”
“No! You wouldn’t have! Because you never do. You don’t talk to me, you don’t have sex with me, I don’t even understand why you’re in this relationship! You don’t seem happy with me.”
“Why? Why don’t I seem happy? Because I’m not willing to fuck you when I don’t have time? Because I’m bored by wedding bullshit?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Because there’s no p
assion anymore.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Chelsea. Relationships can’t always be passionate. We’ve been together a decade. Eventually, things become routine. The passion dies out.”
Her eyes were filling with tears. “So you’re saying you really don’t feel passionate toward me anymore?”
I shrugged. “Do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Feel passionate about me?” I asked.
She didn’t answer.
“Exactly,” I said as I stood up off the couch and started walking toward the bedroom.
She followed me. “I don’t think it’s supposed to be like this though, Miles! I don’t see it in other couples. They are passionate. I know there are many who are thrilled to be marrying the woman they love. I know there are couples who still have sex regularly and still want to talk to each other about their days when they come home.”
“I know about your day! You go to the hospital, you take care of your patients, you complain about whatever doctor you were working under. It’s the same god damn day every day. Why would I ask about it?!”
She was crying now. “Maybe because you care about me?”
“I do care about you. Of course I care about you.”
“No, you don’t. How could you? You don’t even want to be around me. There is no way you care about me.”
“I do.”
“Prove it!” she demanded.
“I’m fucking marrying you! What more proof could you need?!”
“But you don’t want to be, do you?” she asked through tears. “You don’t want to marry me, right?”
I didn’t know how to answer that one.
“It was my idea, wasn’t it?” I asked. It was my way of avoiding answering directly.
“And why did you?!”
Don’t say you felt obligated, I told myself. You won’t make things any better by saying that.
“We’ve been together for over a decade. Obviously, I’m never going to be with anyone else. You’re already my partner in life. The only thing there was to do next was to get married. You deserved a proposal. “
“I deserved one? Like, I deserved one because you love me or I deserved it because I happened to put up with you for over a decade?”
“Both,” I said.
It was the wrong answer.
“What, did you just think that’s what you were supposed to do? Enough time has passed so you had to give me a ring? Is that it?”
The truth spilled out of me.
“Yes, okay?! It’s been enough time, you deserved a ring. It was the right fucking thing to do.”
“The right thing?! Like whether or not to marry me is some kind of moral dilemma?”
“I don’t know what to tell you. You wanted to get married, didn’t you? I could tell you wanted to be married. And I did it, I proposed to you. You should be happy.”
She sat down on the bed, wiping tears away from her face.
“I can’t imagine why I’m not happy!” she said sarcastically. “Maybe because, when I was a little girl, I imagined that the man I was going to be with one day was going to actually want to be with me. I imagined my future husband laughing at me during cake tastings and talking to me on long car rides. I imagined that I’d walk down that aisle and see my future husband grinning at me, and I’d know this was the happiest moment of not only my life but his too. But I’m not going to come down that aisle and see you smiling, am I, Miles?”
“I’ll smile,” I told her. “Of course I’ll smile.”
“You’ll force a smile. The way you always do with me. It won’t be real; it’s never real with you anymore. It won’t be the happiest day of your life. I don’t even need to ask if it will be, I already know. It just… won’t.”
I knew she was right. But it seemed fucked up to not say something. I was obviously hurting her very deeply, though that had never been my intention.
“Who knows? Maybe it will be the happiest day of my life. I might see you there, looking beautiful, and be thrilled to be doing this marriage thing with you.”
“Is that what you tell yourself? That one day you’re going to wake up in our marriage and actually be happy with it?”
it was, actually. It was what I told myself over and over. It was the only thought that comforted me. I wouldn’t be able to go through with this marriage if I hadn’t convinced myself that one day I’d feel happy again.
“It won’t happen, Miles,” she said seriously. “You won’t wake up happy. Every day married is going to be like every day we have now. If anything, it will get worse. You’ll get more bored of me. Because you don’t love me.”
Now, this part I could refute.
“What are you talking about?! Of course I love you! You’ve been my best friend since we were kids. You are the person closest to me. I’ve never been more comfortable with another person.”
“You’re right,” she acknowledged. “I am your closest friend. And maybe you do love me. But only like that. Only like the person who is your closest friend. Not the way a man loves a woman before he marries her. Something isn’t right with the love you have with me. I’ve known it for a long time, but I’ve shoved the thought down. I told myself I was being crazy. That I had unrealistic expectations for this relationship. But you know the only real expectation I have?”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“To be with a man who really loves me. Loves me so much that he’s counting down the days until he gets to call me his forever. But that isn’t going to be you, is it, Miles?”
She didn’t give me a chance to answer. She ran out of the bedroom into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.
I groaned as I walked over to the bathroom door and knocked on it.
“Chelsea, open up.”
“Just go!” I could hear her crying loudly. “Go to your damn game night.”
I didn’t know what to do at this point. Just leaving didn’t seem like the smartest thing to do. She was hurting and I should have been there for her when she was hurting, as her partner. It was the decent thing to do.
But what about when I was the thing that was hurting her? What should I do in that case?
I decided that I was doing more harm waiting around here then I would be if I left.
“Okay,” I told her. “We can talk about this later.”
“But we won’t,” she said through the other side of the door. “We won’t figure this out. I already know.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I said nothing. I just grabbed my keys and left.
15
Aidan
It was about 6:15 when I got home, barely on time. People would be here at any moment.
I grabbed some chip bags I had in the cupboard and poured them into large serving bowls to put out on the table. I had beers in the fridge, though my friends would undoubtedly be bringing some of their own.
I was looking forward to this night. It had been a while since my last game night. I used to host two a month, but I had stopped in the last few months after meeting a new boy.
I know, that was kind of shitty to me, to drop off the planet for my friends after getting a new boyfriend. But what can I say? I’m only human. And new relationships are fun; I couldn’t help getting wrapped up in this guy.
But things didn’t work out. It wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t mine; nobody cheated or did anything extraordinarily wrong. We just slowly learned we weren’t compatible with each other.
It was pretty unfortunate, though. In this town, I had a very small dating pool to choose from.
It was one of those very conservative small towns. So conservative that, to most people, I didn’t even bother coming out. I knew enough about the area to know that wouldn’t go over well.
And I wasn’t the only gay man who laid low around here. Every guy I dated who was from around here did the same thing I did, kept themselves mostly in the closet to fit in a little better with society around them.
I kne
w it wasn’t ideal, but what else could I do? It wasn’t that I was ashamed to be gay, not at all. I was extremely proud of the person that I was.
But most conservative and religious people around me wouldn’t feel that same pride. And I ran a business in this town. In a place as small as this, it wasn’t hard for word to get around and ruin a small business. Enough people here would boycott my bakery to ruin my profits.
I knew I could leave. There were plenty of more liberal places in the country that wouldn’t bat an eye at a gay man being open about who he loved. There were places where you could walk down the street holding the hand of another man and not get so much as a dirty look.
But I’d have to leave behind the business that I built if I moved. And it was hard to walk away from that. It was a business I inherited from my grandparents (my parents had no interest in running it, having their own decent jobs) and it was a piece of cake to take over. No pun intended.
But seriously, they ran it very well and it’d been very successful. It would be pretty hard to walk away from that success to start all over somewhere else.
For at least the foreseeable future I knew I’d be staying here. Which meant my romantic prospects weren’t that great.
But oh well. I didn’t mind my romantic life taking a back seat to my career at this point. In fact, I preferred it that way.
Plus, I had my friends to keep me company. And that was plenty enough for me at the moment. I could be myself around them. I only had a few really good friends, but they all knew I was gay and were completely okay with it.
Although that was something I’d noticed in this town. The older generation tended to be very judgmental but it didn’t seem to have been passed on to people my age. Unfortunately, most people my age didn’t have a need for baked goods and it was the older crowd my business catered to.
It was 6:20 when the first person arrived, which was a little weird considering they were always late.
When I answered the door, I realized it wasn’t one of my friends but the guy I had met in the bakery today. Shit, I forgot all about him! Honestly, based on his reaction I didn’t really think he’d show up.
“Hey, Miles, right?” I said, sounding as positive as I could and doing my best to hide my surprise at the fact that he was here.
