by B J Smyth
“Have they said what you have done?”
“Yes, the seatbelt cracked a few ribs and dislocated my collarbone, and the window shattered, hitting my face, and it knocked me unconscious, so they want to keep me in for two days just to monitor me.”
“I suppose it could have been worse,” I say.
“Yes, it could. I’ve missed you.” He holds his hand out and I entwine my fingers with his.
Having lived together for sixteen years, I care a lot about him. If he hadn’t done what he did, we would probably still be together now, if only for the companionship.
We spend several hours chatting about things we have done over the last few months. I don’t mention Carter to him, as he tells me how lonely he is in the house. I want to make him feel better, to make things right between us, but the image of him and the barista keeps coming back into my head. I doubt if I could trust him again.
“I know I fucked up with that lad, I don’t know what possessed me to get involved with him. I was a foolish old guy flattered by a sweet boy smile,” he says.
Is that what I’m doing with Carter? I wonder as he continues chatting.
“Is there anyway we can find a resolution, I truly miss you,” he says. “Frank, are you listening?”
“Yes, sorry, my mind was elsewhere. I don’t know, Charles, a lot of damage was done. You hurt me badly.”
He squeezes my hand tight. “Surely all our years together mean more than a stupid fling.”
“Maybe. So do you need me to collect anything from the house to keep you going whilst you are in here?” I say, trying to change the subject.
“Some PJs, so I don’t have to walk around in this thing, baring my arse to the world, phone charger, and the book next to my bed. That should do.”
“Okay, where are your keys? I will head back to yours in a while and get them. I need to deal with some work issues first,” I lie to him, giving him a quick kiss. I need to get away as he is messing with my head.
“Okay, the keys are in that drawer. Thanks for helping me,” he says, giving me a smile.
I go for a walk outside. Crossing Westminster Bridge, I take a slow walk around St. James park. The fresh air is what I need; Charles has dragged up all the emotions I have tried to bury over the last few months. I take a seat on a bench overlooking the lake. A fountain is shooting water into the air; it sounds like heavy rain as it crashes back into the lake. The breeze is blowing the branches of the weeping willow hanging into the water. Several swans glide gracefully into the shadow of the tree, trying to avoid the heat of sun as it reflects on the water. A small squirrel scampers across the ground towards me. Sitting on its back legs it stares up at me as though it is begging for food.
“Sorry, I have nothing to give you,” I say, talking to it as though it will understand.
It sniffs the air, then scampers away along the path, looking for someone else to feed it. Sitting watching people pass by me, I wonder what is going on in their lives. After an hour of people watching, I get up and walk to the café in the park. Still lost in my own thoughts, I order a sandwich and drink. Taking it outside, I eat as I walk around the edge of the lake.
The evening is drawing in as I head back to the car. Sitting in the car, I check my phone and see lots of missed calls and messages from Carter. I quickly send him a message before driving to Charles house.
Hey, Carter. Sorry I missed swimming, but something urgent came up I will be busy all evening. Catch up in the morning at the pool and I will tell you about it then xx
I switch my phone into favourites mode so the only person who can contact me is Mum. Driving to Charles’s house, I collect the bits he will need for the two days whilst he is in hospital. It’s strange being back in this house, my home for years. I was comfortable here, I remember all the fun times but also the arguments. Picking up the things he wants, I take them back to him. We chat for a few more hours until he falls asleep during the conversation and then I head home. Getting back to my place, my brain is fucked by the events of the day. I cook and eat a pizza, then head to bed feeling exhausted both physically and emotionally.
12. Thursday morning.
I had a rough night’s sleep, thoughts of Charles running through my mind constantly, like his apology and how sincere he seemed regretting his actions. But if I hadn’t gone to the hospital, would he have said all those things he did? Trying to put him out of my mind, I get ready to head to the pool. I’m not sure how to approach the subject with Carter, but by the number of missed calls and messages he left yesterday he will want an explanation about what happened.
I stand outside the leisure centre with the women, waiting for him to arrive. His face says it all as I see him walking down the path towards us, straining a smile as he reaches us.
“Morning, Carter,” I say whilst casually smiling.
“Alright,” he replies tersely. My smile drops at the tone in his voice.
Once the receptionist opens the door, we walk in silence to the changing room. As we get to the locker room, I grab his arm and pull him around to face him.
“What’s wrong with you?” I ask, trying to control the anger in my voice.
“Oh, I sat around all day yesterday thinking something had happened to you,” he snaps sarcastically at me, not even giving me a chance to explain, he rants. “I messaged you and phoned you several times and you didn’t even get back to me. I was worried sick something had happened to you.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, not truly understanding why he had got so worked up considering how long we have known each other. “I should have called you when I saw the messages and missed calls. But I had such a bad day.”
“What happened then?” he demanded, his tone lowering a little.
“This is not the best time or place to explain as I would rather have a proper conversation with you about it. But I can tell from your voice you won’t wait until this evening…” His accusing tone in his voice annoys me.
“No, I don’t want to wait, tell me,” he interrupts raising his voice again.
“Okay, Charles, my ex, was in a car accident, so I had to go to the hospital to check on him and then collect things from his flat and take them back for him.” My eyes remain fixed on his as I try to gage his reaction.
He looks stunned and stares back at me for a few seconds.
“So, you ignored me to spend time with your ex?” The words rip into me.
I’m shocked at his insensitivity to what I had just said and snap. “He was in a car accident, for fuck’s sake, what was I supposed to do? Ignore the call for help?” I shout. “I was with him for eighteen years, I told you it would be best to talk about it later, then I could have explained everything to you.” I drop my bag on the bench. “Are you really that fucking selfish and insensitive? You haven’t even asked how he’s doing.” My anger is raging inside.
He can tell he has pissed me off. “I’m sorry, I was just annoyed that you hadn’t contacted me. How is he doing?” he asks sounding calmer.
“He is doing okay. He has concussion and a few cracked ribs from the seatbelt, but they are keeping him in hospital for two days to monitor him,” I reply, too pissed off now to even speak to him, especially after the shit night’s sleep I had.
I turn my back to him and undress. He must know he has annoyed me as we both get changed without saying a word.
We walk in silence to the pool and swim our thirty lengths. Whenever we pass each other in the water I divert my eyes. His selfish attitude is probably his immaturity showing through, but I can’t be bothered with it as I’m too tired. The chubby guy from the other day is also in the pool now. Finishing our lengths, we head to the showers.
“I’m sorry if I’ve upset you,” he says as he lathers up.
“You have irritated me, Carter, making it sound like I had gone on a day out with my ex and ignored you.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Sometimes my mouth kicks in without thinking.”
“You don’t have to keep saying sorry. We’re
only just getting to know each other, it’s a learning curve. Why don’t you come to mine this evening for dinner and we can talk about it then?”
Delaying the conversation will give me time to calm down.
“Yeah, okay,” he replies.
The chubby guy comes into the showers so we finish showering and head to the lockers. The atmosphere as we get dressed is still tense.
“What time shall I come around later?” he asks.
“Get to mine about seven. I will cook something,” I reply abruptly.
“Okay.”
We finish getting dressed and the chubby guy comes into the locker room. I pick up my bag and walk towards the door.
“See you later,” I say and half smile as I leave the room.
“Bye,” he says, looking uneasy about how the conversation ended.
I throw my bag into the car and race out of the carpark before he comes out of the leisure centre.
13. Thursday evening.
I have spent the day with my thoughts jumping between Carter and Charles, feeling confused by the emotions he dragged up in the hospital. I’m sure it was only the fact he seemed so helpless that made me sympathise with him. In reality, our relationship was over long before the incident with the Barista; I think that was just an easy excuse to go our separate ways. As for Carter, will I be able to deal with his immaturity? He seems so insecure and reads negatives into everything.
I try to convince myself he is young and has a lot to learn about life. I finish work early and head home, still tired. Having prepared a pasta bake for the evening, I put it in the fridge, then have a sleep for two hours to catch up on last night.
Getting changed into joggers and a sweatshirt, I put the pasta bake into the oven and settle on the sofa to wait for Carter.
The doorbell rings, disturbing me. I must have drifted off to sleep again on the sofa. Pulling myself together I get up and walk to open the front door.
“Evening, come in,” I say.
“Thanks,” he replies, still looking awkward as he walks into the house.
Closing the door behind him, I grip his arm and pull him close. The warmth of his lips hit mine as I look directly into his eyes. In silence, he is transfixed on me, as though he is waiting for me to say something. The warmth of his body so close but not touching mine, the only sound our heavy and laboured breathing as a clock on the wall ticks. Holding him still, my grip tightens around his arm as I lean forward. Pressing my lips to his, I kiss him softly, but then pull away.
“Are you in a better mood than you were this morning?” I ask in a soothing, low voice, my face inches from his, our eyes still locked together.
“Yes, are you?” he replies, his voice shaking as I gaze into his eyes with not a flicker of movement between us.
“Yes.” I kiss him again, this time hugging him tight to my body, my mouth sharing my passion with him.
I feel his body relax as I kiss him; I release him from the embrace. “Let’s have a nice evening,” I say, gesturing him towards the kitchen.
“Okay,” he replies giving me another quick kiss before following me to the kitchen. “Something smells nice.”
“Pasta bake, home cooked for you,” I reply in a brighter mood. “Have a seat. What would you like to drink?”
“Red wine, please.”
He sits and watches me as I twist the corkscrew into the cork of the bottle. I tense the muscles in my arm, putting on a show for him as he admires me.
“What are you staring at?” I ask with a little grin, already knowing the answer.
“You. I can’t believe how God damn handsome you are,” he replies, his face flushing a little.
“Stare as much as you like then, sexy,” I say as the cork pops from the bottle.
After pouring the wine, I lean and give him a kiss. Taking the pasta bake out of the oven I place it between us on the table. Sitting opposite him, I lift my glass. “To us,” I say.
I tap my glass against his. “Yes, to us,” he replies, then sips the wine. “The bake looks tasty.”
“Hopefully, it will taste as good as it looks. You go first.”
Picking up the large spoon, he scoops some onto his plate, then hands the spoon to me. We both eat in silence, enjoying the food and wine. We polish off the whole pasta bake between us, I ate more of it though.
“That was lovely, you did a grand job,” he says.
“Thanks, I will clean up the dishes later. Let’s sit in the lounge and talk.”
His shoulders slump at the words as he picks up his glass and follows me into the lounge, sitting on the sofa next to me.
“I want to talk to you about yesterday and Charles.”
His fingers fidget with his glass as he looks into my eyes, obviously trying to guess what I’m going to say. “Okay.” His voice quivers.
“I don’t want to have a long drawn out conversation about him, as he is my ex for a reason. But I think it is only fair to give you an outline of our history. Hopefully, then you will understand why I had to help him yesterday.”
His eyes are fixed on me as he seems to hang on every word I say.
“I’m listening,” he says, a nervousness to his voice.
“Okay, Charles and I were partners for almost eighteen years. We dated for the first couple then moved in together and shared a home for sixteen years.”
He nods in response, acknowledging that he is listening to what I’m saying.
“Hell, we even considered marriage, but back then it wasn’t an option for gay men and by the time it was, things between us had already started going downhill. When you have spent all those years living with someone, they become a big part of your life, friends, and family. He doesn’t have any family; his parents have both passed away, and he was an only child. Everything in your lives became entwined. Most people were shocked when we split up, mainly because they never really knew what went on between us behind closed doors. All they ever saw was the happy couple show we put on for them at social events.” A feeling of sadness hits me as I talk about Charles.
“Yeah, I can get that.”
“Although we are not together anymore, I do still care about him and what happens to him. So, when I got a call from the hospital to say he had been in a car accident. I dropped everything and went to the hospital. I am still listed as his next of kin, just in case you are wondering why they called me. When I got there, he was in a terrible state. I felt sorry for him, seeing him so helpless, so I stayed with him in the emergency admissions unit.”
“Okay, I understand that, but why didn’t you reply to my messages and missed calls?” His shoulders tense awaiting my reply.
“There is no phone signal in the unit, so until I left the hospital to collect the things he needed from his flat, I never knew you were trying to contact me. When your messages came in, I responded to let you know I was dealing with something urgent.”
He shifted awkwardly on the sofa. “But why didn’t you tell me in the message what had happened? It left me wondering all night what was so urgent.”
“Honestly, I don’t know you well enough to know how you would have reacted, so decided it was best to tell you when I saw you. Considering your reaction this morning, I’m glad I did.”
“What do you mean my reaction? I spent all day yesterday thinking something bad had happened to you,” he snaps, the annoyance clear in his voice.
I reach over and rest my hand on his knee. “Carter, don’t get annoyed. I know you were concerned about me and that’s lovely, but you arrived at the pool this morning in a real bad mood, without giving me a chance to explain.” I keep my voice calm. “We have only just met and there’s a lot we don’t know about each other, but I want to get to know you better.”
He looks surprised by my last remark.
“Well, promise me if anything like that happens again, you will let me know the details, so I don’t spend the day worrying and getting myself wound up.”
“Don’t worry, I have learned that f
rom this morning.” I reach over and take the glass from his hands and place it on the table bedside him. Shifting closer, I hug him tight and softly kiss the side of his neck. “So, are we good now?”
“Yeah, we're good,” he replies, then kisses me.
He traces his tongue along my lower lip; my tongue escapes my lips and wrangles with his, then pushes deep into his mouth. I kiss him passionately, enjoying the taste of him.
Breaking away from his mouth, I relax back on the sofa and pull him to rest his head on my shoulder. “You don’t need to worry about Charles. That candle burnt out years ago,” I say, hiding the doubts seeing him had stirred inside me.
“Good,” he says, sliding his hand over my chest and snuggling against me.
We remain snuggled together on the sofa, not speaking, enjoying the closeness of each other. We spend an hour cuddling and chatting on the sofa before I suggest he heads home. It would have been nice to go to bed with him, but thoughts of Charles are still heavy on my mind.
14. Friday morning.
I’m at the pool before Carter, standing outside and chatting with the women. I see him walking down the path towards us, a big smile across his face. He is obviously in a good mood today.
I smile back at him. “Morning, Carter,” I say, sounding casual as always in front of the women.
“Morning,” he replies, his cheeks flush a little and I wonder what he is thinking.
The receptionist opens the doors and we walk to the changing room. There is nobody around in the locker room, so I drop my bag on the bench and pull him into me. My cock stiffens against him as I kiss him gently. “Morning, gorgeous.”
“Morning, handsome,” he replies, grinding his cock against mine. As he kisses me back, we hear the door to the changing room squeak open. I quickly pull away from him and we stand on either side of the locker room as the chubby guy walks in.
“Morning,” he says, giving us both a quick glance and then placing his bag on the bench next to me.
“Morning, I’m Frank,” I say holding my hand out to the guy.
