The Mystery of Nevermore

by C. S. Poe

  “For what?” Calvin turned around.

  “Everything. In the course of one day, you’ve come to my rescue, kept me company, driven me home, cooked me breakfast, and gave me two—no, three amazing orgasms.” I grinned. “Is this all part of being a public servant?”

  Calvin grew quiet, turned away to grab his tie off the floor, and put the knot into place at his neck.

  I raised my head. “Hey, I was teasing,” I said quickly.

  Calvin buttoned the cuffs of his shirt and finished getting himself presentable before he leaned over the bed and kissed my mouth. “I know,” he murmured. “Stay in bed and relax today, okay?”

  “Are you ordering me?”

  “I will if I find you’ve gotten up from this exact spot,” he said with a small smile.

  “What if I have to piss?”

  “All right, that’s allowed, but nothing else. Concussions are serious.”

  “Yes, I’m aware.”

  He combed his fingers briefly through my hair. “You’ve got my number.”

  “What would I need it for?” I asked, tilting my head into his touch.

  He shrugged. “Anything.”

  “When will I see you again?”

  Calvin hesitated. “Maybe you should consider this a done thing.”

  “What?” I sat up abruptly.

  “You’re dating Millett, Sebastian,” Calvin said as he let go. “Aren’t you?”

  My gut rolled and made me feel sick. “I don’t know,” I said.

  “You should tell him.”

  “That we fucked? Are you serious?”

  “Yes,” Calvin replied calmly. “I admit it’s partially my fault, but I know you’re not the sort of man to deceive someone.”

  “Jesus Christ, Calvin. Has anyone told you that you need to work on your pillow talk?” I stared at him, wanting to stand up and argue, but I felt I wouldn’t be as intimidating stark-ass naked. “I mean, not to get all teenage mushy, but was this anything more to you than sex? I’ll be honest, you send some fairly conflicting signals.”

  “I know I do,” he said simply.

  “That’s not helpful,” I retorted. “God… damn it. I want you, Calvin.”

  “Millett—”

  “Neil and I have been circling the fucking drain for six months,” I said, now angry. “I’ve just been too afraid to admit it. And—and now you’re here and I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

  Calvin was silent for too long. Eventually, he said, “I shouldn’t have initiated anything. I’m sorry.”

  “You can’t just apologize after all of this! Are you fucking nuts?”

  I watched the muscle in his jaw tighten. “I need to go, Sebastian.”

  “Screw you,” I answered.

  He didn’t respond, which was nice, because I might have throttled him if he had.

  Chapter Nine

  NEIL CALLED me in the afternoon, waking me up from an anger-, contempt-, and painkiller-induced sleep. “Seb?”

  “What?” I grumbled, pulling the blankets up over my head.

  “Are you still at the hospital?”

  “No, I’m home.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  I was quiet.

  Neil deserved to know. Calvin was right. I couldn’t forgive him for the fight we had had and fail to mention I had sex with another man in the bed we shared together. I covered my eyes with my hand, taking a deep breath. I had to man up and be honest about this—us. Dragging us both along in a relationship that my heart and mind could no longer commit to wasn’t fair to Neil, and it wasn’t fair to myself.

  And it wasn’t so I could have Calvin. It was stupid to want to be with him before I’d even nailed the coffin lid closed on this dead romance with Neil. I’d been with him for four years. I needed to breathe afterward.

  Besides, Calvin didn’t want to date me. That was obvious.

  It was just sex. Really, really incredible sex. Nothing more.

  “Seb? Are you there?”

  “Neil?” I asked, my voice surprisingly thick. “Can you come home? I—we need to talk.”

  The silence on his end was overwhelming. He knew what I was thinking. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I’ll be there soon.”

  While I waited for Neil, I got dressed and heated a frozen pizza for lunch. Or dinner.

  What time was it?

  Screw it, I didn’t care.

  I was on my third slice, sitting in front of the television, when the front door unlocked and Neil stepped inside.

  “You didn’t change the locks” was the first thing he said, shutting the door.

  “No.”

  He pocketed his keys, glancing around. He was nervous.

  So was I.

  I set the plate on the couch and shut the television off, got up, and walked over to the table. “Can we sit and talk?”

  Neil nodded, setting his bag and coat aside before joining me. “Seb,” he said quietly, reaching out for my hands.

  It felt wrong to be touching Neil intimately, and I pulled my hands away. I had broken his trust by sleeping with Calvin, which, believe me, now that the lust had waned, I felt like utter shit about. Even more, though, it felt wrong for it to not be Calvin touching me.

  And that thought just made me… sad.

  “I know what’s on your mind.”

  I shook my head. “No, you don’t. Believe me.”

  “Try me,” he said gently.

  “I slept with Calvin.”

  An awkward moment of silence.

  “Calvin Winter?” he hesitated.

  I nodded and looked up. “Yes.”

  “You had sex with that shithead? He’s not even gay!”

  “Yes, I think he is, and don’t call him that, Neil.”

  “Are you—what the—Sebastian, what the hell!” he stood quickly. “When?”

  “Today.”

  “Today?” he echoed. “Where? Here? You fucked in our bed?”

  “It’s technically my bed.”

  “Oh, shut up! Don’t start being a smartass with me!”

  I leaned back in my chair, looking up at Neil. “I’m sorry.”

  “You think you can just apologize for letting some other guy slip his dick in you and I’m going to magically be okay with that?”

  “No… I just wanted you to know. You have a right to.”

  “And now what?” Neil asked. “You’re breaking up with me for him?”

  I shook my head. I wasn’t going to start crying over this. Not now. Just get through it. “I think we should break up,” I agreed. “But I’m not going to date Calvin.”

  “Oh thank God,” Neil retorted, loud and sarcastically.

  “Neil, we’ve been a train wreck for six months. This isn’t all my fault.”

  “You fucked around behind my back, Sebastian!”

  “While we were on the verge of already ending it, Neil. Come on. I would have told you this yesterday at the hospital, but I couldn’t. I was just too out of it.”

  “That doesn’t make it better!”

  “I know, and I’m not looking to be excused for what I did. But this relationship has been dying for months.” I swallowed the lump in my throat, and it hurt like hell. “Neil, I don’t want us to force ourselves to stay together for the sake of having already managed four years. It’s not… the way it should be. I’m not happy. And I know, even if you don’t want to admit it, you’re not happy either.”

  Neil was shaking his head as he eventually took a seat again. He rubbed his face and muttered around his hands, “You really want to end this?”

  “Yes,” I said simply.

  Neil was pissed. But he was also heartbroken.

  So was I. It’s not easy saying good-bye to something like this, never easy to say farewell to years of commitment, but as I answered him, I felt a wave of relief.

  It was done. Over.

  No more of Max asking me what last night’s fight was about. No more of my dad’s concerned looks and q
uestions. It was over with Neil, and I couldn’t have Calvin, but I at least could work on finding happiness within myself.

  Somewhere along this troubled path, I’d lost it.

  Neil was nodding, staring at his hands. “All right,” he whispered. “I’ll… stay at my brother’s or something. Give me a day or two to get my things.”

  “Take the time you need,” I replied.

  Neil looked back up. “I didn’t fuck up all the time, did I?”

  “No, of course not, Neil.”

  I don’t know if that’s what he wanted to hear or not, but he nodded.

  “I’m going to pack my clothes.”

  I watched him stand and head into the bedroom. I pulled my phone from my pocket and set it down on the tabletop, leaned over it, and pecked at the keypad with one finger like a chicken. I sent my dad a text and immediately received a response.

  Do you need me to come over?

  Yeah, I kind of did. Was it stupid to want my parent? I was a grown man, but my dad was my world. I listened to Neil quietly moving around the bedroom, collecting what he could stuff into a bag.

  Baad weathr pop. It’s OK.

  Sebastian I live 15 minutes away.

  William Snow was being serious if he took the time to text my name.

  Pleaase come.

  I’ll be there soon.

  “That isn’t… Winter, is it?”

  I looked up from my phone to see Neil standing awkwardly in the bedroom doorway. “No. My dad.”

  His shoulders visibly relaxed, and he walked into the bathroom to gather more items. He set his bag near the front door after, then went back into the bedroom, muttering, “At least you used a condom.”

  I guess I should have taken the trash out.

  Ten minutes later, Neil had enough of his belongings that I could see a difference in the apartment. He brought most of it out to his car in one trip before returning for the last bag. I stood from the table as he walked back inside, fiddling with the keys on his ring.

  “Keep the key. It’s not a rush to vacate. When you have the time.”

  Neil paused, weighing his words before simply nodding and pocketing the keys. “Thanks.”

  “Yeah.”

  He picked up his bag. “I’ll let you know when I’m coming by for the rest.”

  “Sure.”

  “Okay.” He hesitated. “Be good.”

  God, even now, that still bothered me. It’d probably be the last time I heard it, though.

  I watched him step out and quietly walk down the rickety stairs, vanishing around the corner. Knowing Neil, he’d arrange to pick up the rest of his belongings when I wasn’t home and then would mail me the key.

  I shut the door and sat on the couch. It was quiet.

  I didn’t move until the door buzzer sounded about thirty minutes later. My dad was at my landing, Maggie too, grinning her big silly dog smile with her tongue hanging to one side.

  “Hey, Pop.”

  Dad walked inside and pulled me into a hug immediately. “How are you?”

  I wrapped both of my arms tight around him and shrugged, not trusting my voice.

  “Did Neil leave already?” he asked next, patting my back.

  I nodded against him. “Yeah,” I croaked. I reluctantly let him go, took his jacket, and hung it up.

  “Was this your dinner?” Dad asked, picking up the plate of half-eaten pizza. “I’ll make something.”

  “I’m not that hungry, Dad,” I said, following him.

  “Hey.” He stopped and turned around. “Kiddo, believe me, I know what you’re going through.” He smiled and squeezed my arm. “Let’s see what you have to cook.”

  Maggie followed us into the kitchen, her tail wagging happily. She sat, watching my dad toss out the shitty pizza, and then looked up at me, like she couldn’t believe he’d let that go to waste.

  I scratched behind her ears and asked, much to my own horror, “Why can’t I keep a boyfriend?”

  My dad turned from the fridge, giving me a critical look.

  “Dad, I’ve just ended my third disaster of an attempt.”

  “Can you even count Marcus as a boyfriend? It was your first year of college.”

  “He counted,” I insisted. “And Brian was a jerk, and Neil—”

  “Wasn’t healthy for you, Seb,” he offered quietly. “A man who can’t love himself can’t love another person.”

  That was the thing about Pop. Didn’t matter if you were gay, straight, bi, whatever your flavor was, there was nothing he cared more about than making sure you were content with yourself above all else. Sometimes I wondered if he considered me a failure in that respect. I always ended up being tossed aside or committing to something less than what I was worth, according to him.

  I looked down at Maggie. She was mesmerized by my ear-scratching. “I fucked up so hard, Pop.”

  Realizing I had nothing remotely decent for dinner, my dad went to his go-to: grilled cheese and tomato soup. He pulled that card whenever I was down, and throughout my childhood, it had always worked to perk me up. But now, thinking about the fact that he had to resort to it—depressed me.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong, Sebastian.”

  “Yes, I did.” I kept staring at Maggie, ashamed to look up. “I… want Calvin.” When I heard him stop moving around, I dared a look up.

  Pop was watching me. Eventually he said, “Yeah. I figured.”

  “What?”

  “Seb. I’ve seen you go through a few relationships now.” He turned the burners on and set the buttered bread down. “I’ve never seen you in love.”

  “I loved Neil.”

  “Maybe the concept of Neil, but I don’t think you really, deeply loved him,” Pop answered. He put some slices of cheese down and completed the sandwiches before pouring some soup into a pot. “But I saw your face when Calvin was at the hospital yesterday, and I saw how he looked at you.”

  My heart started beating hard and fast, making me feel a little sick. “Dad, I’m not, God no. I’m not in love with Calvin. I’ve only known him a few days.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “Then you know how stupid—silly, that sounds,” I corrected.

  Pop looked at me. “Tell me to my face that I’m wrong.”

  MY SLEEP cycle was starting to take on a terrible new pattern. Worst, best, worst—that meant tonight everything would be puppies and sunshine and I’d fall asleep without a care in the world, right?

  Yeah, sure.

  “Good morning,” Max called, trudging down the sidewalk toward me.

  “Morning,” I muttered while unlocking the front door to the Emporium and punching in the security code.

  It wasn’t snowing that Sunday, but it was dark and overcast, and the wind was biting, dropping the temperature below freezing. It was expected to be this cold for the next several days. People were calling this one of the worst storms the city had experienced in over one hundred years.

  “How’re you doing?” he asked as we stepped out of the gale-force winds. “Should you be back to work so soon?”

  “I’ll keep the workload light,” I assured, turning on the nearest lamp.

  “Yeah right,” Max said with a smile. “I’m really glad you’re okay, Seb,” he continued as we both hung up our winter clothes on the coatrack.

  “Me too,” I agreed.

  “Beth feels terrible about what happened.”

  “Why? Did she clobber me?”

  Max laughed lightly. “No, but you went to defend her shop, she said.”

  “I just wanted to turn the wailing alarm off.”

  Max rolled his eyes. “Anyway, she said she wanted to talk to you, first chance you had.”

  “All right, thanks.” I could already sense Max knew something else was up, so I walked away before he had a chance to say anything. I stopped at the steps up to the register, glancing around a bit hesitantly before calling, “Max?”

  “Yeah?” He was turning on a few more lamps behin
d me.

  “Did you leave these?”

  “Leave what?” He came up behind me to see I was pointing at a bouquet of flowers sitting beside the register. “Whoa, no way. Your dad and I were here for a little while in the morning, but just to take care of the place. We didn’t stay open for business.” He looked at me warily. “Is this like the pig heart thing?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted.

  Max looked back at the flowers and then nodded to himself, suddenly understanding. “Neil.”

  “What?”

  “Neil had to have brought them.”

  “I… don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  “We… broke up, last night.”

  “Oh shit.” Max put a hand on my shoulder. “Man, I’m so sorry, Seb.”

  I cleared my throat. “Thanks. Still doesn’t explain the flowers.”

  “Want me to see if there’s a note?”

  “No, I’m not afraid of roses,” I muttered.

  I walked up the steps and stood at the counter, staring at the bouquet. They were wrapped in cheap plastic to hold them together, but they looked wilted, as if they’d been out of water for too long. I took a picture of their position beside the register with my phone before moving them.

  Paranoid? I was starting to get there.

  “Well?” Max asked expectantly.

  I lifted the flowers with a tissue and found a slip of paper sitting underneath. “‘We grew in age—and love—together—Roaming the forest, and the wild; My breast her shield in wintry weather—And, when the friendly sunshine smil’d, And she would mark the opening skies, I saw no Heaven—but in her eyes.’”

  “Shakespeare?” Max asked.

  “No.” I put the flowers down. “Poe. This is from his poem ‘Tamerlane.’”

  “I don’t think I read it,” Max answered. He sounded a little nervous.

  “I wrote a paper on this poem in college,” I said, bending down and grabbing a big paper bag. I gently slipped the note and bouquet inside. “I need to bring this to Calvin.”

  “Ginger cop?”

  “Yeah, that one,” I answered, standing. “Will you be okay here alone for a bit?”

  “Sure, but if I have to call 911, at a certain point, the police will be convinced this address is cursed and will stop coming by.”