He sighed, catching his breath as he slipped out of me, discarding the condom and cleaning himself with tissues from my nightstand.
Even as he lay back next to me, holding my body next to his, I still felt completely erased by everything. Owen made me feel like I hadn’t ever before—like I belonged to someone, that I belonged only with him. It was more than just physical. Owen had always had a piece of me, but now I knew he always would.
I was his.
“I love you,” I repeated, squeezing him.
“I’ll always love you, Max,” he said quietly. He sounded more vulnerable than he had all day.
I had never really understood the phrase “love of my life” before—had always thought it was sad that people would restrict themselves to only one love for their life.
But now I thought I understood it. The love I had for Owen went beyond sex, beyond friendship, beyond lust. It was pure and uncompromising. It was strong enough to survive months apart and hardships that came our way.
Most of all, it was real. No matter what happened, he was a part of me forever.
“What the hell?” Megan’s voice called from the hallway. I could hear her wedge heels on the wooden floor outside the door. “Are you two seriously still asleep? It’s practically the afternoon.”
I sat up quick in bed.
“We must have drifted off,” Owen said, picking his head up and running his hand through his hair. “Fuck.”
We were both still naked, tangled in the sheets. I got up, tugging on my clothes, clearly the same ones from the night before.
I was getting tired of this game.
“Be there in a minute,” Owen called out, and we heard Megan walking away.
“I think we’re probably fine,” I said.
“Yeah, it was just her up here,” Owen said after he’d dressed. “Ready?”
I nodded. It didn’t matter if I was ready or not—I didn’t care, at this point, if anyone saw us.
We opened the door, stepping out into the hallway. And at the landing, right in between the stairs going up to the third floor and down to the first, Ruth and Jim were standing, looking out the window.
Both of their heads turned over toward us.
I heard Owen mutter under his breath: “Fuck.”
“Hey,” Ruth said, giving us a quizzical look. “What are you two up to?”
And in that moment, something in my brain gave up. I didn’t understand it—didn’t understand why we were keeping all of this secret, why something so beautiful should be hidden. It didn’t make sense.
Just tell them, I thought, looking over at Owen. His skin was a deep red, and he was fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Just tell them the truth. Owen’s hair was still plenty mussed from when we’d been having sex, and I’m sure mine was the same. It was obvious. It was too stupid to keep denying it.
Owen paused for another few moments before speaking. “We woke up late, and then I just was helping Max with something on his phone,” he said. “Had some software update thing.”
“Oh,” Ruth said, nodding. “Okay then. Well, we brought back sub sandwiches for you. I’m sure you’re both hungry.”
I felt like I’d just been sucker punched. Owen didn’t have to lie to his parents. He didn’t have to say anything, really. He was twenty-six, and it was even clear that his parents were far from homophobic—Patrick had been out for years and years, and it had never been an issue.
Sure, Owen didn’t have to come right out and say we’d been having sex, but he didn’t have to lie, either.
More than anything, it just felt like confirmation that I wasn’t going to be anything long-term for Owen. That most likely, this was all going to end tomorrow, when the trip ended. And then I would go back to my old life in New York, back to the job where I now likely wouldn’t get a promotion, and things would stay exactly the same.
With a piece of my heart ripped away from me.
We went down to the kitchen, eating our sandwiches in silence, like this morning had never even happened.
9
Owen
How can a day that starts out so perfectly—like a dream—end up feeling like hell on Earth?
Today had begun with one of the best experiences of my life. I made love to my best friend, and it felt like nothing could ever touch us, like the world could be reduced to just us, and our love, and nothing else. It was beyond beautiful. It was almost transcendent.
And then it felt like it had all come crashing down, just from my parents catching us coming out of the room together. I didn’t feel like explaining anything to them, didn’t feel like getting into some long, drawn-out conversation where I had to talk to my parents about my sex life. I still wasn’t even sure that I could be attracted to other men besides Max—I wouldn’t rule it out, but so far, he had been the only one.
And really, deep down, I knew that it couldn’t last. I knew that Max had his sights set higher than me. When he returned to New York, I knew he’d resume the search for a perfect partner. Maybe a doctor, maybe a lawyer. Maybe even another software professional like him.
But the fact of the matter was that it would never be me. I could only bring Max down, in my current life. I was jobless and only recently had learned how to behave like a healthy, functioning adult. Max’s own parents knew too much about the problems I’d had over the years and had expressly stated that they didn’t agree with Max’s friendship with me.
Of course, Max was an adult and knew he could make his own choices; he’d always been friends with me despite his parents’ disapproval. But I sure as hell wasn’t the kind of person that he could take home to Mom and Dad.
I was too flawed to fit into the picture of the future Max had for himself. The future he deserved.
And so I had resolved to enjoy what I could on this trip, to experience things with Max that I’d never dreamed of before, while I could.
It wasn’t right to tell my parents something like that, especially if I knew it couldn’t last. So all day I’d avoided it, avoided thinking of the looks that had been on their faces when Max and I had stumbled out of my room.
Dinnertime finally came. It was our last dinner of the trip, and the conversation just seemed perfectly engineered to make me feel like garbage. First, Taran had talked about the success of all his bar-owning ventures, and Patrick chimed in to say that his own coffee bar was doing amazingly well lately.
My parents prodded Max and Megan to talk about their jobs, too. They wanted to know about all the achievements and successes they’d had. They congratulated Megan and Max for being able to afford life in New York City—they knew how expensive it was and knew how responsible Megan and Max must be to swing it. I didn’t even want to tell them how many times Max and Megan had paid my share of the rent when I lived with them.
“Well,” my dad said, kicking back in his chair at the kitchen table, “Max, I’m sure you’ll be at a management level very soon.”
Max nodded politely.
“Do they have lots of opportunity for management positions at the company?” Mom asked him.
“Ah, yeah,” Max said. He glanced over at Patrick, then back to my mom. “They actually were interviewing for one of the positions last week. I missed out. I asked if I could push it to two weeks later, but they said they needed to fill the position fast. It doesn’t matter, though—they’ll have another opening within six months to a year.”
“Oh, Max, that’s awful,” Mom said, furrowing her brow. “You couldn’t get them to extend the process? Not even for a loyal employee like yourself?”
“I tried,” Max said, his eyes downcast. “There’ll be another opportunity, down the line.”
My dad shook his head. “I would have words with the company, if I were you,” he said. “As soon as you get back. It’s ridiculous that they wouldn’t wait just a few more days to give you that opportunity.”
I was sitting in my seat, feeling like I was hearing the conversation go by in slow motion. “Wait,” I sa
id, turning to Max, staring at him intently for the first time since this morning. “Max, are you saying you gave up an opportunity like that to come on this trip?”
“Like I said,” Max continued, waving a hand through the air. “There will be plenty more opportunities—”
“How did you not tell me about this?” I protested.
Max looked at me, shock in his eyes. “I—I really didn’t think you cared about that kind of stuff.”
“Of course I care,” I said, my voice rising by the moment. “You… you missed out on it just to come to the beach?”
He hitched up one shoulder in a shrug. “I knew you really needed me here—wanted me here,” he said.
I pulled in a long breath, letting it out. I felt my blood pressure rising and realized I was clenching my teeth.
“Max and I actually had a good conversation about it the first day we got here,” Patrick said. “Sometimes it’s okay to be a little gentler on yourself. Not every opportunity is the right one for that moment.”
“So I fucking ruined your chances at getting your first management position,” I said, feeling like I was seeing red. “Am I hearing you right, Max?”
“Owen—” my mom started.
“You didn’t ruin it,” Max said. “I chose to be here.”
“You chose to be here because I wanted you here,” I said. “It’s my fault.”
My blood was boiling. How could Max have done this? How could I have done it to him? I had been so selfish—I’d barely even asked Max about his job at all. I never really had. I couldn’t believe that he had missed out on such a big opportunity to be here.
It was pure, concrete evidence of Max’s life being worse because I was in it.
I stood quickly and paused for a moment. “I need some alone time,” I said, wrestling to get the words out of my mouth. “Max, I am so deeply sorry. I don’t deserve your friendship. You are… you’re too good to me.”
I took off down the beach afterward, hearing a couple people call after me, but not paying attention to it. I ran and ran until I couldn’t see the house anymore when I turned back. I found a few boulders in a cluster near the sand down the beach, and I sat on one of them, lying back, catching my breath.
I knew I was being overly dramatic. I knew it was a ridiculous reaction to what I’d been told. But I couldn’t help it.
After everything Max had ever done for me, I’d never been able to properly repay him. Time and time again he was there for me, and I could never offer anything back but a “thanks.” But at least, in the past, it seemed like the only thing I was wasting was Max’s time. To find out that now I’d had a concrete negative impact on his career was unbelievable. Sure, it was Max’s decision to come on the trip, but he’d hesitated so much. I’d pushed him. I felt responsible.
And it made me feel like the worst friend in the entire world.
My head was swimming, and for many minutes I remained lying back on the rock as the last of the sunlight disappeared from the sky. I let the sounds of the ocean waves going in and out wash over me, like a mantra repeated in my head. It was all I had.
“Owen,” I heard from nearby. I sat up straight on the rock, turning behind me to see Megan walking over, her yellow sun dress blowing in the wind. Her face was concerned, and she approached me like she would a snarling dog.
“It’s okay, Megan. I’m not going to yell at you or something,” I said.
“I know you won’t,” she said, coming closer and perching on the rock. She still eyed me warily, but now I could see that it was with concern, not with fear.
“I know I fucked up,” I said. “Made way too big a deal over that, yadda yadda.” My teeth were clenched, and I tried to act calmer than I really felt.
“Everyone understands,” she said softly. “Even Max. I promise.”
I turned to meet her gaze. “You sure about that? They’re not all over there talking about poor, sad Owen, who can’t control his emotions?”
She snorted, shaking her head. “Of course they’re not. They were worried, not knowing where you went, but… you’re safe, and that’s all that matters.”
I pulled in a long breath, looking out at the dark water. “They worried I’d go into town and drown myself in a handle of vodka or something?”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “They know—we know—that isn’t how you want to cope with things anymore.
“Even if that’s my instinct, I’m not doing it,” I said.
She nodded. I ran my fingertips along the cool stone beneath me, feeling where its smoothness became rough in spots. The tactile sensation soothed me, almost like I was sitting on top of the biggest worry rock of all time.
We were silent for a while before Megan spoke again. “Max made the decision on his own, Owen,” she said softly. “I know it… it sounded like he did it because of this trip. But what you didn’t see was him debating about interviewing for the position for months before he even knew the trip was coming.”
“Really?” I asked.
She nodded. “He kept going back and forth about it—the position was one that would look good on paper, but he’d be working under someone who he really doesn’t like. He kept saying that it might be better to wait for something that wouldn’t make him miserable.”
“I had no idea,” I said.
“I know,” Megan responded. “Max doesn’t always… talk about work with you. I think he assumes you’ll find it boring, honestly.”
“What? Why would he think that? I could listen to Max talk about basket weaving for ten years and not get bored of it.”
She laughed softly. “I know that’s true. But I’m not sure if he does.”
I let out a long breath. “I… I was upset that Max would have done something like that just for me. But I know I was also just upset at myself, not him.”
“What for?” she asked.
“Because not only did I think I was preventing Max from career advancement, but I know I don’t even have a career at all. It’s like… I felt like I was extending my own failures onto Max. I know it makes no sense.”
“No, I get it,” she said. “Trust me. I grew up with Max. We get along great, but I can’t say I haven’t felt like he’s better than me a million times.”
“Right?” I asked, puffing out a laugh. “He’s so damn good. So dutiful. And he’s not even trying to be—he just does it naturally. For me, it takes so much effort. God, everything takes so much fucking effort.”
Megan nodded. “It’s not a great idea to try to compare yourself to someone like Max. Take it from me.”
“You’re right,” I said.
Megan scooted closer to me, putting her arm around my shoulder and squeezing me tight. I hadn’t realized I’d gotten chilly in the evening air, and her warmth felt like the best blanket.
“I love you, Owen,” she said.
“I love you too,” I said.
She held me for a while, both of us looking out at the water. After a few moments, I felt her start to giggle, and then it turned to outright laughter.
“Megan,” I said, “what in God’s name could you possibly be laughing about right now?”
“Ahh,” she sighed, taking a breath. “I was just thinking about how overjoyed your mom would be to see us like this right now,” she said.
I started to laugh, then, too. “Oh, you are so right about that. If we took a selfie like this and showed it to her, it would fuel her for years to come.”
“Exactly.”
“And yet she’d have no idea that most of our conversation was just focused on Max, anyway,” I said.
“Yeah, what is with that?” Megan said, looking at me again. “Forget about him. Let’s talk about you for once.”
“There’s nothing to say about me, anyway,” I said, waving a hand through the air.
“Bullshit,” she said. “What’s been on your mind?”
I eyed her. “I think you know what’s been on my mind,” I said.
“Max?”
>
I nodded. “Yup.”
She sighed. “Okay. Then I’ll ask you… what would you do if time and money were no object?”
“Oh please, I hate questions like this,” I said.
“Why?” she protested.
“Because they’re so unrealistic.”
“Who cares? Just answer it. I want to know. What is most important and meaningful to you? Not anyone else. Just you,” she said.
I shook my head. “I don’t fucking know,” I said. For a moment I paused, but after thinking for a minute, I decided to indulge her question. “I mean, now, I would say that the most meaningful experience of my life was going to wilderness, honestly.”
“How come?” she asked.
I grinned at her. “You know, you’d make a wonderful interviewer,” I said. “You try to act all innocent, but I see what you’re doing. Trying to get information out of me.”
“What?” she asked, shrugging and suppressing a smile. “I genuinely want to know, Owen. Don’t call me out for my ninja Oprah skills.”
“Okay,” I said, taking a long breath in. “Wilderness taught me how to… how to be with myself,” I said. “Taught me that being alone with my thoughts isn’t always such a sinister thing. And made me realize that no matter how different I feel, I’m always just another part of nature. An extension of nature. And that… that makes me feel a whole lot better about my life. Makes my problems seem to vanish.”
“Wow,” she said. “That’s kind of a beautiful thing.”
“And the other thing that is most meaningful is… this. This trip. Getting to spend time with so many people I love. I know not all of life can be one big vacation, but… being around all of you has felt more like healing than anything else ever has. And I didn’t have to ingest any substances to feel happy, which is pretty amazing.”
“That’s where I’ll call bullshit again,” she said. “I’ve seen you ingest many s’mores throughout this trip, and I dare say those should be a controlled substance.”
“Oh, shut up,” I said. “And… also… you’re right.”
Summer Secret Page 14
