by Zach Jenkins
“Hey, everyone, let’s get a round of coffee and cookies. My treat,” Icarus said, earning cheers from Shane and Christian.
While Griffin went off to fill the order, and Shane half-heartedly asked Christian for details about the Vegas wedding, Icarus sent me to pay the bill.
I knew Icarus had no money, and I didn’t mind sharing what I had with my new friends, but it rubbed me the wrong way that Icarus was already spending my money like it was his own. Especially after the little fight over the website.
I didn’t complain, however.
Everyone was happy and Icarus was talking to me for once. If all it took to keep that happiness rolling was swiping the credit card for something I would have paid for anyway, it was no skin off of my back.
While I was paying, Christian walked up to the counter and nodded at me, but asked Griffin, “So now that I’m a married man, what kind of advice does an old pro like you have for keeping the spark alive?”
Griffin looked up from where he was pouring the coffee beans into the grinder. “Well. It’s bound to be different for everyone,” he looked back at what he was working on and said in a hesitating, noncommittal kind of way, “And the spark comes and goes, of course. Every day’s different than the one before and you just need to roll with the punches once in a while.”
Griffin looked back up and almost seemed surprised to see Christian standing in front of him. “Sorry, but I need to go get the cookies.”
Griffin sounded sad, but I didn’t know the guy nearly well enough to feel comfortable to butt into his business. Whatever he was going through appeared to be very personal.
I checked my phone when it beeped. It was a message from my dad. He wanted to know if I’d really spent thirty thousand dollars on a website like the bank statement said.
Icarus changed the order after I told him not to? What the fuck?
I ignored the message. I couldn’t deal with my dad telling me he’d told me so.
After paying, I returned to the table, trying to stay calm. There had to be some kind of explanation.
The only one I could think of was that Icarus was starting to cash out on our marriage, though.
I barely listened to the guys’ chatter, which quickly switched from Christian’s marriage to some flowers that had died unexpectedly at Matty’s shop, to how Shane’s leg recovery was on schedule.
I didn’t say much, and no one dragged me back into the conversation.
Growing bored, and noticing the time, I said, “Hey, isn’t it about time for us to leave for the movie?”
“Oh, yeah. I lost track of time there, I guess.” Icarus hurried over to the display rack by the counter, and picked up a travel mug and a box of fudge. “Baby, can I borrow your credit card? I need a new mug, and we can have the fudge later tonight.”
I bit my tongue as I handed him the credit card. I wasn’t going to fight in front of his friends.
“You seeing that boxing movie?” Matty asked. “The previews look sexy. A lot of sweaty chests. I want to go see that soon, too.”
Before I knew what was happening Icarus had invited all of his friends to come with us. Shane had plans, but the rest agreed to come.
And just like that I was merely the guy in the background.
Icarus would probably make me pay for all their tickets and popcorn, but after that, I’d be ignored in some aisle seat.
“Hey, since all your friends want to go, and I know you won’t be stuck alone, why don’t you all go without me? My stomach feels a little off and I’ve got a headache,” I lied.
Icarus felt my forehead with the back of his hand. “You don’t feel hot. Do you want me to come home and take care of you?”
I shook my head. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. You have fun.”
When Icarus leaned in for a kiss, I covered my mouth with my hand and said, “Maybe you shouldn’t. Just in case it’s contagious.”
I hurried to my feet and out of the coffee shop before Icarus had time to ask for my credit card.
Seventeen
Icarus
About a week had passed since seeing the movie with my friends. Harley was feeling better. So much better that he was never home. I racked my brain trying to figure out what I could have done to make him mad, but drew a blank.
I went to the coffee shop so my friends could take my mind off my problems, but they were doing a horrible job distracting me.
“I didn’t think it would happen,” Griffin said, handing me the coffee he offered me for free. “But you two really are looking like a real married couple now. I never see the two of you together these days, and it sounds like you’re not having sex anymore. Most couples at least wait a few years before they get to that point. You guys must be really serious about each other.”
I flipped him off while the rest of my friends laughed at my misery.
“What did you expect?” Matty asked. “You married a straight guy literally for his money with plans up front of getting a divorce, and now you’re mad because he doesn’t hang on to your every word. Chill out. It’ll all be over soon enough.”
“It’s nothing like that. He’s just busy. The friends on his football team are getting together for a few drinks after practice tonight, I think. I’ve got to work or I would’ve gone with them.”
The last part was a lie. Harley hadn’t invited me to come with him.
When he’d left the house, he’d told me he probably wouldn’t be back until the next afternoon. Even that wasn’t strange anymore. He was always partying with somebody and crashing at their place rather than driving home drunk.
I couldn’t even argue with that logic. How could I ask him to drive home after he’d been drinking? And I wasn’t about to make demands that he stay home with me all the time.
I wasn’t going to be that husband.
If things really were crumbling between us, I wasn’t going to rock the boat until his dad gave Harley his money.
The thought made me nauseous.
I tried to convince myself that I wouldn’t even take any of it, but as I flipped through the stack of credit card bills I’d picked up from my sister’s apartment on my way to the coffee shop, I knew that was a lie.
I needed the money. The last couple of tours had gone horribly. Complete no-shows. Without Harley’s help, and while waiting for the website, I was back to my normal struggles.
Rather than letting my friends turn the conversation back to Harley, I slapped the stack of envelopes down on the table. “I can’t pay any of these. This is so ridiculous. I’m twenty-three years old and can’t get my shit together.”
“I didn’t know things were that bad,” Shane said. “Is there anything we can do to help?”
Echo nodded at us when she walked in and marched straight to the counter.
I laid my head down on the table and groaned. “No. I refuse to borrow money from you guys because I’ll never be able to pay it back. I’m not going to exchange one debt for another and end up losing friends over it. Besides, I’ll have money soon, right? It’s just so frustrating to be so close to having all these problems go away and all I want is for… Hell, I don’t know what I want at all. My life is so ridiculous right now.”
I blew on my coffee, needing it to cool faster.
“There’s nothing wrong with being a mess,” Shane said. “We’re all messes in some way. I fucked a married dude. He wasn’t wearing a ring, but I didn’t even bother looking to see if there was an impression on his finger a ring would have left behind. I figured that if he was still with his wife, that was their problem, not mine, and didn’t bother to ask. I still feel like shit about it.”
Matty snorted at us both. “You guys are pitiful. There’s nothing wrong with either one of you.” He pointed at me. “You just need to get fucked. You and your fake husband had a good thing going and you both let it slip away. It’s not going to get better unless one of you swallows your pride and takes the first step. Don’t wait for your big, beautiful dummy to do it. Take tha
t step and make yourself happy.”
“You think so?” I asked. I was willing to take almost any advice.
Doing something had to be better than doing nothing.
“Of course I’m right. It’s obvious to anyone with half a brain. Just call him and talk to him.”
I pulled the phone from my pocket and dialed as I walked outside the coffee shop so my friends wouldn’t be able to eavesdrop. When no one answered and the voicemail kicked in, I hung up. Instantly regretting not leaving a message, and knowing that wherever he was partying was probably just too loud to hear the phone, I called back, planning to leave a message.
He answered on the third ring.
“What’s up?” he asked, his voice slurred from alcohol.
I glanced at my watch. It was barely eight o’clock.
“Are you drunk already?” I asked.
“Damn straight I am. This party’s the bomb. All these chicks are naked and dancing right in front of me.” He sounded odd, like he was faking the enthusiasm.
Whether he was trying to make me jealous, or just trying to convince his friends to think he was having a good time, I couldn’t tell. “Oh, I gotta go. The next round of beers just got here.”
Harley hung up before I had a chance to beg him to stay on the line.
I didn’t have the strength to call back or send a text. My spirit was crushed. Things were through between Harley and me. I couldn’t put myself through another night of waiting for things to fall apart.
He would probably get laid by one of the strippers or some woman he’d meet at a different club afterward. I barely even blamed him. If he was straight, it made sense for him to sleep with women.
The best I could hope for was for him to follow through with the money part of our agreement. But just as he had come to his senses about not wanting to be with me anymore, he would probably eventually realize that we didn’t have any binding contract about the money. He’d probably be able to get the marriage annulled, and some high-priced lawyer would see to it that I never got a penny.
Not that I would push for his money anyway.
The whole situation was stupid from the beginning, and I wasn’t going to sink into the mire and make it uglier.
When I walked back into the coffee shop, my face must have been easy to read.
“Are you okay? What did the idiot do?” Matty asked.
“I thought you told me to call him? Now he’s an idiot?”
Matty patted my chair to tell me to sit. “I told you to call him when he was what you wanted. Now that he’s hurt you, he’s the enemy. That’s what friends do for each other. Now spill it.”
“I don’t really feel like talking about it. But I think we’re through. And since I don’t have any money, I’m gonna have to give up this stupid business idea of mine and get a real job. I’ll go to a temp agency on Monday.”
Echo immediately said, “I can give you two or three hours a week at the bakery.”
Matty nodded. ”I could give you a few hours, too, if you don’t mind doing deliveries.”
Griffin guy called out from the nearby counter. “I’ve got about ten hours a week available here if you want them. Day shift on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
I nearly cried at the overwhelming support from Echo and my friends. They didn’t judge me for my mistake of getting involved with Harley. They would surely tease me about it someday, but in the heat of the moment, they all had my back.
While Harley was off drinking and throwing dollar bills at strippers, my friends were there to support me.
I was a lucky man.
“I guess I can head back home for a good cry and some ice cream,” I said. “I don’t have any reservations for the tour tonight anyway. So, I’ll take you up on your generous offers...next week, okay?”
They all agreed and told me to call them if I needed anything over the weekend.
I held my tears back long enough to get out of the coffee shop, but then cried during the entire drive back home.
I hoped Harley wouldn’t stay out all night again. I needed to put an end to my marriage before things got out of hand. Neither one of us seemed to know if we were coming or going, and we weren’t anywhere close to being on the same page again.
As soon as I saw him and could call things off, I would move back in with Echo. It would be best for both of us to go our separate ways.
Harley seemed to be falling apart. He hadn’t drunk nearly as much when I’d met him. All I wanted to do was make him happy, but he was worse off with me in his life.
But more selfishly, I wasn’t going to make myself vulnerable to letting him destroy me by cheating on me. If he thought getting drunk and going to clubs every night sounded better than spending the nights with me, it wouldn’t be long before he strayed.
If I hadn’t had feelings for him, I would have been fine with him fooling around based on our original marriage agreement.
But that ship had sailed.
I did love the big dummy. But I wasn’t going to let him hurt me.
When I saw him again, I planned to tell him that I was ready for divorce.
Eighteen
Harley
I barely remembered the ride home from the club, or even which club had been the last of the evening.
As I fumbled with getting my key in the lock, I hoped I had tipped the cab driver well.
I had no idea what time it was. The battery on my phone had died hours ago, and I kind of remembered giving my watch to one of the strippers earlier in the night.
My mouth was dry, and I was sure to have a horrible hangover in the morning.
I would have liked to have said that the night had been fun, but really it had felt more like a chore.
I’d missed Icarus all night. I would have had more fun hanging out with him and his friends, or even just watching a movie on the couch alone with him.
Why’d he have to change that order?
Unable to shake the feeling that Icarus planned to leave me soon, I had hoped that watching a bunch of naked women would rile up my old passions and convince me that I would have no trouble moving on.
Instead, all I could think about was his smooth chest and the way his lips felt when they kissed me on my lips, my body, or my dick.
Before heading to bed, I went to the kitchen to get some water and aspirin. I managed to swallow the pills but when I tried to set the glass back on the counter I missed and it toppled off the edge and shattered on the tile floor.
“Shhh,” I hissed at the broken pieces of glass. “Don’t wake him up. I don’t want to talk to him right now.”
“And why not?” Icarus asked from the other side of the room.
My blood froze.
I couldn’t imagine what he had to think, hearing his husband talk about him like that. Assuming he still cared about how I felt about him at all.
It was painful not knowing whether there was even a relationship between us to work on.
“Oh,” I said to break the silence.
“Our friends asked about you. I told them you were with your football friends. I don’t know if I was lying or not, though.”
There was no question.
I didn’t know how to respond.
Neither of us moved.
Finally, Icarus broke the silence. “Stand right there. Don’t move. You’ll just step on the glass, and I’ll have to drive you to the hospital for stitches.”
Icarus hurried to the pantry and came back with the broom and dustpan.
While sweeping up my mess, he asked, “So what exactly did you do tonight? Anything I should know about?”
“Strip club. Jimmy’s bachelor party. Then other clubs. I don’t even know. It was all very loud. My phone died at some point, and I lost my watch.”
“That’s right. Jimmy gets married next week, doesn’t he? I hope he had a good time.”
I wasn’t too drunk to notice that he hoped Jimmy had had a good night, not me. My fears were coming to life. I’d managed to scr
ew up another relationship.
“Did I do something wrong?” I asked.
Icarus shrugged. “Who knows? I wanted to talk to you earlier, but you wouldn’t let me. You hung up on me so some woman could shake her tits at you.”
I tried to apologize, but he held up a finger to silence me.
“But when we’ve already not been talking for who knows how long, and then I hear that you went to a strip club without telling me, I can’t help but wonder if you’re trying to hide something. Like maybe you’re just not into guys anymore, or maybe you’re just not into me.”
I wished I was sober.
It was too hard to think clearly with my head still swimming in alcohol. Back in the old days, I frequently said things I would regret when I was drunk. I thought I’d outgrown that phase of my life.
Rather than apologizing, or telling him that the girls meant nothing to me, I withdrew into defensive mode, instead.
“So you think we have an honesty problem?” I asked. “You want to talk about it? Maybe you should try being honest with me sometime, about how you only want me for my money. And the website, you...”
I was withdrawing into my own insecurities, and I knew it. On good days, I liked to pretend that I had learned from my past mistakes and had become a more mature man, but when push came to shove, my true nature always came through.
I was attacking someone I cared about because I didn’t believe I was good enough for them to truly care for me.
Even worse: I could hear my dad’s voice in my head telling me I was doing the right thing.
The website didn’t mean anything. I had the money, and I’d told him I would be willing to share it with him, specifically for things like that. But I’d screwed everything up by letting that old man into my head again.
Icarus set the dustpan on the counter and tossed the broom toward the pantry. “You made the mess. I’ll let you finish cleaning it up.”
He turned and started walking away from the kitchen, leaving me to wonder if he was talking about the broken glass or our broken marriage.
