by Brandon Witt
Cody’s eyes went wide, just long enough for Darwin to realize he’d dropped the love bomb for the first time.
They stared at each other for a long moment, then Cody pulled his hand away again. “I don’t have big career goals like you do, Darwin. That’s not how I see my life or even what I want. I’m not ever going to be your equal in that way.” Again his hand swept over the space. “This is my life for as long as I can keep it. I know it’s not as fancy as what you’d choose.”
Darwin’s brain seemed to be stuck in molasses. On some plane, his thoughts raced, trying to narrow down exactly how he’d fucked up, but too slow to catch the right words. “Cody, I’m sorry. Please don’t—”
“No.” Cody cut him off again, his eyes cold, his shoulders straight, looking older and harder than Darwin had ever seen him. “I’m sorry I’m not the way you need me to be. But I’m not hiding who I am from anyone anymore.”
This time as Cody walked away, Darwin let him go. He feared that whatever he said, he’d just make it worse. And he still wasn’t completely sure what he’d done wrong.
DARWIN WAITED at the bar for over an hour. He nearly relayed the exchange to Vahin to get his input, but it felt like a violation of Cody’s trust somehow. Several times, he tried to get Cody’s attention, but Cody was looking everywhere but at Darwin. Enough that it was clearly intentional.
He hadn’t planned on telling Cody he loved him. Not yet, and definitely not while Cody was at work.
Afraid to push Cody too far, or to unintentionally dig himself into a deeper hole, Darwin used the back side of his coaster to write Cody a note, then asked Vahin to give it to Cody at the end of the night.
THE RAIN had stopped, but the night was chilly, and every so often droplets fell on Cody as he walked underneath the trees. He shivered. He hadn’t even considered wearing a jacket when he left for work that afternoon. It wasn’t like he really cared. He was cold and a little wet. So what?
Steven had offered him a ride home, but he’d refused, saying he wanted to walk. That he wasn’t tired. That he needed fresh air. That he wanted to see the stars.
Honestly, he couldn’t remember the excuses he’d given for refusing a ride. Nor could he recall why he’d wanted to walk. Now all he wanted was to be home, curled up on his bed in the dark and passed out. He wanted it so much, he’d considered taking a bottle of tequila from the bar and drinking it on the walk, just to ensure he wouldn’t lie awake all night. The message from his father seemed to burn through the phone and the pocket of his jeans at the thought. He’d left the bottle untouched. He wasn’t going to turn into an alcoholic like his father. He wasn’t. He’d only been drunk a couple of times in his life, but those had been enough to make him swear off alcohol. He’d reminded himself too much of his father. And that was a path he refused to go down.
His father and the e-mail. Who knew what joy waited to be uncovered? Maybe he needed money.
Cody hoped that was all it was.
As he walked through the night, the coaster Vahin had handed him tortured his mind.
Probably a break-up note.
No. Darwin wouldn’t break up like that.
Darwin wasn’t going to end things. He was too good a guy. Or delusional.
But Darwin should. He obviously had no idea who he’d been dating. Or was falling in love with, apparently.
Falling in love. Cody hadn’t ever expected to hear Darwin say those words. There’d been times he was fairly certain he saw it in Darwin’s eyes. At moments during sex, as they were out to dinner, when their gazes met across Mary’s as Cody worked. Part of him believed he was simply seeing what he wanted to see, but the other bit of him hoped it was real.
Turned out, it was. Darwin was falling in love.
Just not with him.
With some other Cody of Darwin’s creation. One who was supposed to be so much more than Cody was in reality. Who knew what Darwin expected? Cody the teacher. Cody the artist. Cody the goddamned doctor. Whoever it was, it wasn’t Cody the server who’d worked his ass off for his dreams and had already found it and was done. Satisfied. Content. Fuck, screw content. Cody was over the moon with his life. But, of course, someone like Darwin wouldn’t see Cody’s life as good enough the way it was. Cody was supposed to have rock-star dreams or some shit.
Unable to take it any longer, he paused under a streetlamp half a block away from his apartment and pulled the coaster out of his back pocket. Holding his breath, he looked down and tilted the thick paper so Darwin’s small script better caught the light.
Cody,
I’m not completely sure what I did wrong, but I’m so sorry that I upset you, or hurt you. Please call me if you want or need to. I’ll have my phone on all night.
And I probably shouldn’t write this, but whatever. I do love you.
Darwin
Cody read it several times. A droplet fell from the streetlamp, landing on the last line. Using his thumb he wiped it away. The ink smeared in a streak, making the “I love you” nearly unreadable.
He took a shaky breath. God, he wanted to believe it. To take it all in as the truth. He was certain Darwin meant it. He no doubt was in love.
In love with his misconstrued notion of who Cody was.
Maybe Cody had done something to make Darwin see what wasn’t actually there. Maybe in his attempts to pretend to be good enough for someone like Darwin, he’d implied he was better than he was. Well, he was a damn better actor than he’d been aware of. That was for sure.
It would be so easy to call Darwin. Wake him up and hear his soft, low voice. He could pretend to still be the Cody Darwin thought he was. But then what? College? Grad school? How far would he have to fake it to keep up with Darwin’s expectations? He’d barely managed his GED. He might as well run for president, for all the good it would do him.
As he neared the front door of his apartment building, he started to throw the coaster in the wastebasket by the steps. He wavered and couldn’t make himself do it. If nothing else, at least he’d have this. He stuffed it back into his rear pocket and walked inside.
HE DIDN’T bother brushing his teeth or taking a shower. Just padded quietly past his roommates’ closed door, slipped into his bedroom, stripped to his underwear, and crawled between the sheets. Realizing he’d left the phone in his pocket, he got back out of bed, retrieved the phone, as well as Darwin’s note, and got in bed once more.
Whatever it was, the e-mail couldn’t make him feel any worse. Surely if anything was truly wrong, like someone sick or dying, his dad would’ve called, not sent an e-mail.
He tapped on the blue-and-white envelope icon, then again on his dad’s message.
So you’re a fag, huh? One of your mom’s friends saw a picture of you on some gay restaurant’s Facebook page. I told the bitch you were just needing money. That serving beer to a bunch of fags didn’t mean shit. But I knew. As soon as I heard. I knew. You’ve been a fag the whole fucking time. No wonder you were never right as a kid. Always the weak little pathetic one. Your mom won’t believe it, says it isn’t true. But it is. I know it. I can’t believe you came from me. Sick little fuck. Glad you’re gone, but you’d better get that picture taken down and get yourself a real job. I don’t need the whole town talking about my fag son. Fix it. Or I’ll make you fix it.
It was his worst nightmare come to life.
Cody didn’t read the message a second time. Didn’t need to. He sat in bed, waiting for tears. They didn’t come.
It all made sense, actually. He’d been living in a dream. The best dream of his life. He’d been free for months. He’d been safe. He had a man who loved him—it didn’t matter if it was really him Darwin was in love with or not. It was still more than he’d hoped for. More than he deserved.
He almost couldn’t feel wronged. He’d gotten all he’d ever wanted, more than, in only a few short months. More than he’d figured he’d get over an entire lifetime. Just crammed in all at once.
He wasn’t angry.
/> Just afraid. Now that he had all he’d dreamed of, he couldn’t go back. Not to how it was before. It didn’t matter if he wasn’t still in that dark trailer. Didn’t matter if his father wasn’t drunk next to him all the time. Didn’t matter if he was three hundred miles away.
Cody couldn’t go back to living in the dark, not being who he was.
He’d gotten more than he ever believed he could. But losing it, any of it, would make life even worse than before. Before, he’d hoped, he’d imagined, he’d dreamed. Not big enough, it seemed, but he had. After this? There would be no more dreams. Just memories. Loss. Constant awareness of what he could no longer have.
Cody didn’t think twice. He’d thought about ending everything countless times growing up. He’d never had the courage. Or maybe before, he simply couldn’t give up on the hope that he might actually get some of the life he’d dreamed about.
Well, now he had.
He got out of bed and got his roommates’ bottle of Benadryl from their shared bathroom. He went back to get the new bottle of NyQuil as well. He opened the NyQuil over the sink, tilted it to his lips, and caught his reflection in the mirror. He turned away and chugged the bottle.
With the Benadryl in his pocket, Cody padded to the galley kitchen and took the bottle of whiskey from under the sink.
Back in his bed, Cody took five and six Benadryl capsules at a time, washing each handful down with a burning chug of whiskey. With each gulp, he closed his eyes, taking deep, shaky breaths in order to keep from puking.
He had no sense of time, but it felt like the bottle of pills was never going to end. And each handful was harder to keep down than the last.
Finally the bottle was empty. The whiskey was nearly gone as well. Thankful the process was over, Cody lifted the bottle to his lips and drank what was left.
Stabilizing himself so he wouldn’t throw up, Cody eased down, resting his head on the pillow. He patted around on the bed until he felt the coaster. Picking it up, he tried to read it. The room was too dark, and even if it weren’t, his vision was too blurry to focus on anything. Instead he held the coaster to his chest and waited.
THE BEEPING machines, the chatter in the hallway, the squeak of wheels on linoleum.
The sting of disinfectant, the stale air, the undercurrent of urine and blood.
The chill of metal rails, the stiff sheets, the protrusions of needles under the skin.
All of it familiar. All of it he’d tried to forget. But it showed up constantly in his dreams.
Darwin never wanted to be back here. Different hospital. Different state. Different side of the bed. But it was all the same. And it was all horrible.
Cody had woken several times over the past thirty-six hours, but there’d been nothing more than raspy mumbling and unfocused eyes.
The squeak of the door was followed by soft footsteps. Darwin angled around in the lumpy chair and smiled. A real one. “Hi, Pat.” He relaxed somewhat in her presence. He’d originally forgotten she was also a nurse. Darwin wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to get through the past days without her.
Pat gave a soft smile. “Hey, sweets. How is he?”
Darwin shrugged. “Same. He’s waking more frequently now, but I still haven’t seen any recognition.” He refocused on Cody, who looked smaller and frailer than ever. “That can’t be good.”
She closed the distance and squeezed his shoulder. “None of that. Of course we won’t know until he wakes, but the doctors are hopeful. He got here in time.”
Darwin nodded silently and watched as Pat leaned over Cody and swept her fingers through his black bangs.
He’d already believed the people at Mary’s loved Cody, but even so, their genuine care and concern blew Darwin away. Cody truly was part of their family. Darwin wished Cody could see them all as they visited throughout the day.
Pat stood and addressed Darwin once more. “You need anything, love? I’ve got to get down to start my shift, but you have time to use the restroom or get a snack.” She tilted her head in a way that reminded Darwin of his mom. “Though you really need to go home and get some sleep.”
Darwin shook his head. “No. He can’t wake up alone.”
He thought she was going to argue, but instead she sighed, leaned forward, and kissed his forehead before walking back to the door. “Well, just call down to the PACU if you need anything. I’ll come up on my breaks.”
Darwin nodded and refocused on Cody. Pat was nearly to the door before he called out to her. “Pat.”
She turned. “Yeah?”
“Thanks again. I can’t—” His voice gave out.
Pat waved him off. “Oh please. What’s the point of making everyone love me around here if I can’t wield my power from time to time?” She didn’t wait for a response before walking out the door.
He couldn’t imagine going through this without Pat pulling strings for him and for the rest of the Mary’s staff. If he hadn’t been allowed to see Cody, to stay with him—to have to be home or try to work while Cody was alone or might wake up to no one around him—Darwin wouldn’t have been able to stand it.
When he looked back from the doorway, Cody’s eyes were open and his dark blue gaze was locked on him.
Darwin flinched at the change and then leaned forward. “Cody?”
“Wh….” Cody’s voice was raw from lack of use and probably from the earlier intubation. “Where…?”
Relief flooded him, bringing tears to Darwin’s eyes. “Don’t speak, baby. You’re in the hospital. You’re going to be fine.”
BY THE end of the next day, Darwin was truly beginning to believe those words. Cody was going to be fine. Physically, at least. Thank God for Cody’s roommates hearing Cody’s vomiting. Hell, thank God for the vomiting.
Darwin’s visits became more limited when Cody’s seventy-two-hour psychiatric hold was put in place, but even then, Pat’s influence got him more visitation than he would’ve had otherwise.
As he stepped into the hospital room, Cody’s gaze met his. His eyes were brighter, his cheeks had more color, and he seemed more like Cody. Darwin moved closer, intending to kiss him hello. Instead he sat in the chair by the bed and took Cody’s hand.
Cody spoke before Darwin had figured out what to say. “I’m sorry.” His voice was still hoarse but not nearly as painful sounding as the day before.
Darwin’s eyes instantly burned. “Cody, you don’t have to be sorry.”
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”
He enclosed Cody’s hand in both of his, holding tight. “I know that.” He forced what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I figure this was about whatever was in your dad’s e-mail.”
Cody grimaced. “Yeah. My folks know about everything. Dad won’t allow me to stay here, to be… what I am.” His gaze darted back up to Darwin, panicked. “I don’t want to lose everything. I can’t go back.”
Darwin tightened his grip on Cody’s hand, then forced himself to relax a bit. “Cody, you’re not going back. You’re not going to lose everything.”
“You don’t know my dad.”
“True.” Darwin didn’t have to fake the bravado in his tone. “I don’t know your dad, but I bet he has less power than you believe. And if he doesn’t, I guarantee those of us who love you have more.”
Cody’s face scrunched up, and he turned toward the window.
Darwin was still able to see a tear roll down his cheek. “Hey, what’d I say? I’m sorry, babe.”
Cody took a shuddering breath and seemed like he had to force himself to turn back to Darwin. And even then, he didn’t look Darwin in the eyes. “You can’t love me now. Not after this.”
Darwin had promised himself he wasn’t going to bring it up. He wasn’t going to make an ounce of this about himself. “Mine was aspirin.”
Cody’s eyes met his. “What?”
“I chose aspirin. It’s what my folks had.”
“You…?”
Darwin nodded. “Yeah. Remember that guy, B
rooke, I told you about? The youth pastor?”
Cody nodded.
“Well, I talked to him after youth group one night. He realized I was gay. I thought I’d done such a good job hiding it.” Darwin couldn’t hold back a disgusted laugh. “Found out later, pretty much everyone knew. But that night, after I got home, I told my folks. Dad flipped out. Wasn’t abusive or anything, but just flipped out. And I took a bottle of aspirin. Brooke came to the hospital the next day and talked to my folks. It changed everything.”
Cody studied him for a while. Darwin thought he was going to accuse him of lying.
“That was different. You were a kid. I’m not.”
“Cody. Age doesn’t matter on something like this—”
“And I’m not who you think I am,” Cody cut him off.
Darwin nearly let go of Cody’s hand but caught himself before he pulled away. “What?”
The tears really started to flow down Cody’s cheeks.
Darwin looked toward the door. If one of the nurses came in and saw Cody so worked up, they probably wouldn’t let Darwin visit again.
Before Darwin could think of a way to soothe him, Cody rushed on. “I’m not like you. I don’t want to go to college. I don’t have some big plan to become rich or famous or do great things. I want the life I have… or the life I had, anyway. I’m just a waiter, maybe a bartender at some point, but that’s it. That’s all I want.”
“Cody, so what if—” It clicked then. The conversation at Mary’s. How Cody had changed instantly. What Darwin had said wrong. “Oh dear God. Cody. Is that part of why you…?”
Cody didn’t speak or nod or move. The tears increased, and his breathing grew more ragged.
Darwin nearly threw himself up off the chair and onto Cody. It couldn’t be helped. The thought that he’d had even an ounce to do with Cody’s choices…. He grabbed the back of Cody’s head and smashed their mouths together.