The Fiancé (It's Just Us Here Book 6)

by Christopher X Sullivan

  “No.” I didn’t want to be tied up or whipped or berated. I had only wanted to be punished because of my self-disgust... but now I was back with Mark... and Mark was the best thing to happen to me and he made me feel so light and happy.

  Well, he used to.

  “Or... you can tie me up, if you want. We’ll get some rope, let’s stop at the—”

  “No!” The thought of seeing Mark tied up—immobile. I started crying for real. You are my protector, my big guy that makes sure everything is safe and not scary. You’re the guy that loves me and lets me be myself. I don’t want you tied up.

  “Oh... stop crying,” he said gently. Mark laughed as I tried to cuddle into his arms over the console. “Babe, you’re going to get us in a wreck if you keep doing this.” He touched my head. “Hard limit, no bondage. I got it. No ropes.”

  “I don’t want to see you tied up...” It had been such a crazy, emotional day that I was about at my breaking point. I just wanted to give up and crawl into bed and cuddle. I didn’t want to think about anything else but Mark and his skin and his scent. “You’re—” I couldn’t finish the thought. First, it was embarrassing to admit how weak I was; second, Mark was right, my piece-of-shit car had gone into reverse and I needed to hop completely in the driver’s seat to prevent a wreck.

  “I’m yours...” he finished. “One hundred percent.”

  “I love you, but please don’t talk bad about Stacy. She’s a good friend. She’s going to stay my friend. We’re going to work this out.” I was stubborn.

  “You like holding on to people. You’re big into family. I understand. But if it doesn’t work out, I’m here for you. Never forget that. I won’t ever hurt you like that again.”

  I held my silence. What was there to say? Of course he was going to be there for me. If he hurt me once, of course he could do it again. There was no magical guarantee that everything was going to turn out perfect. I had to learn to suspend my disbelief again, like how I did the first time.

  But that’s what got you into this mess. You believed so strongly... so blindly... and then when the problem crept up through your blind spot, everything got smashed to pieces.

  We made it to his apartment. I called my mom and said everything had been taken care of. She didn’t ask questions. She said I was a good man to help a friend in need and she understood completely. “You’ve always been an idealist,” my mom said. Her insight was kind of stunning... especially since she chose that particular moment to lay it on thick.

  I had always been an idealist. I had held onto my college friends for as long as possible and I had always idealized that we would remain friends after we graduated, but that never materialized. My heart still held on to them—ached for that reality—and wished them the best... and now Travis was in my life again. So part of that vision had come true, though many years later.

  And I had idealized Mark as well. I wanted us to be perfect, but we were a messy fit. We always would be. I would always be on the defensive and Mark would always feel like he was walking on eggshells.

  Always.

  There was no getting around reality, no matter how much I turned my impressive imagination to sanitizing the truth... I wasn’t gay, yet was in a relationship with a gay man. It wasn’t a perfect fit.

  We settled in for the night. I wanted to cuddle in bed and hold him. He wanted to watch TV. We compromised and sat on the couch with the TV on low volume. The Cubs were playing a night game. It reminded me of how he had ‘proposed’ to me at a Cubs game... in the middle of the day. I had no idea it was coming... he had surprised me thoroughly and unexpectedly.

  I cuddled into his body and he wrapped his arm around my back. “I love you,” he said.

  “I love you more,” I said with great feeling. “Way, way more.” I ducked my head as he tried to squeeze me with his armpit.

  “I don’t know about that,” he said. “I think I love you more in my way, and you love me more in yours.” He kissed me on the forehead. “Can we compromise for once? Or are you going to fight me on every little thing?”

  “We’re already sitting on the couch.” Compromise.

  “My God, you don’t let anything go... you realize that?”

  “You knew that before we got together the first time so you can’t say you didn’t know what you were getting into when we got back together.”

  “I have a feeling I’m going to be hearing that for the rest of my life,” he teased.

  I burst into tears again. At first I had been teasing him and we were having a small, silly moment... then I had to go ruin it with fucking tears! I was such a wimp!

  “I don’t know what’s going on with me,” I said between breaths. He tried to calm me down so I could explain what was going on. “I’m overwhelmed.”

  “Deep breaths. I’m your safe space. Just let it all out.”

  “You are,” I confirmed. It was the first time since getting back together that I finally felt like he was a safe space—or as close to one as he could become after our Big Fight. That part of our renewed relationship had remained elusive and the fact that the feeling of security finally showed up was a welcome relief. I was worried it would never happen and that we might be stuck as basic friends... as roommates living near each other but not with each other.

  “I wish we were living the rest of our lives already,” I said. He didn’t get what I meant. “I used to think that as a kid. I wished I would have a real job already so I could work my way out of the hole I was in. Get away from working construction. Then I wished I could get healthy already so I could get back to working and move on with my life. And now I want to get past this fitting-together phase. It hurts so fucking much.” I wiped my dripping nose (and Mark didn’t call me out on the snot).

  “Somebody I used to know said the making of it was the best part. Writing books... the making of it is the best part. Learning a new sport... the making of it is the best part. Making that silly board game... the making of it is the best part.” He wiped my cheeks. “And now you want to skip this? This is us.... This is the new us. And the making of us is going to be the best part... the best part of my life.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” I chided. My voice was sloppy and he was so intense about his pledge. It wouldn’t have surprised me if laser beams started shooting out of his eyes.

  And it made perfect sense. Heaven help me... but it made sense... and I was falling into his orbit again. The making of us is going to be the best part... the best part of my life. Those words made sense in a way only Mark could make them make sense.

  I suppose that meant I was his again.

  Our First Separation

  WE WENT INTO OUR FIRST separation with brave faces, but lamenting the fact that it had to happen. Mark, once again, attempted to break my resolve by suggesting I ride with him up to his grandparents’ house for the Saturday.

  “No,” I said, as I had during the entire week... but in my heart I screamed ‘yes’.

  It was sad to see him leave. I felt silly. The longest we had been apart since our reconciliation was during my family dinner on Tuesday and then when my parents visited me on Thursday. And on one of those nights, Mark went off the deep end. I had gone with Mark to his work twice. He stayed by my side as I worked on the other days. We were completely intertwined for that first week.

  And seeing him leave brought on a fresh wave of pain—would he come back a different person? Would I change my mind while he was gone? Would things settle down and one of us come to our senses? My confessions had been difficult... talking about Beth and Boss and the downward spiral. Trying to hide things from my parents was worse.

  Seeing Mark leave for the weekend was beyond all that. It dredged up memories of the last time he left me and of how he stormed out of my apartment. Mark told me to sleep in ‘our’ bed while he was away and to keep it warm. I said I would, and it didn’t even make me feel helpless to admit that. I nearly cried on the spot.

  I held it together until h
e left the parking garage. I hid in the elevator... then walked down his hall—alone. My heart was heavy.

  How many times had Mark made the same lonely walk to his apartment? How many times in the last eight months had Mark wished to have me by his side as I now wished to have him beside me?

  I unlocked his door and walked in.

  How many times had Mark walked into this big, lonely apartment and wished that I was there waiting for him? He had, apparently, never given up the dream of having me... did that mean he longed for my presence every time his apartment was empty? Did he sit on the couch and wish I was cuddled under his arm and sleeping in an awkward position? I pressed against him like that because I wanted to be as close to him as possible—I wanted my soul to occupy the same space as his.

  I lasted five minutes in that empty apartment before calling my lover—luckily his new car had hands-free Bluetooth.

  “Sup,” Mark said.

  “I miss you,” I said teasingly.

  “I miss you, too.” He didn’t buy my cavalier attitude. “What’s got you upset?”

  “Just looking around this big empty apartment, thinking about you being here all by yourself.”

  “I managed.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I thought about you a lot.” He couldn’t have been more serious.

  “I thought about you a lot, too.” I felt pathetic.

  “Do you want to come with me?”

  I breathed heavily into the phone and didn’t answer. My fingers twitched. “I can’t,” I finally said. “I don’t want to be apart. But I can’t do it yet. If I don’t figure out this thing with my parents, then I’m going to slide into old habits. You deserve better than what I did to you before.”

  “I knew what I was getting myself into,” he said gently. “You did break my heart though.”

  “Ouch.”

  “I wanted so badly to... shit, I don’t even want to go there. I just want to be your man and I want your family to know it. I want to be yours for real.”

  “I know. I know that now. I was holding back before. I’m not now.”

  But that was a lie. I was still holding back. Part of me didn’t believe that Mark and I were going to go the distance, in which case, why would I come out as queer? That was the same tired argument that had sabotaged me before—this relationship was obviously built to fall apart, so why go through the hassle? I’m not gay, why would I put myself through that?

  I talked to Mark throughout his drive. I heard the gravel crunch as he pulled into his grandparents’ driveway. “Gotta go,” he said. “Got some crazy nieces and nephews coming at me.”

  “Okay,” I said while wistfully thinking of Gabby and Caleb. He hung up. I dropped my head and wondered why I was incapable of making the right decision. The right decision was to have gone with Mark to meet his family. I wanted to be with him and he wanted to be with me... it was not complicated.

  I opened Mark’s small laptop and opened an empty Google Doc to type a few lines of poetry while trying to capture my mood. I may have given up novels and fiction, but hadn’t given up expressing myself.

  That poem turned into a prose paragraph about two good friends separating after college graduation. It was a short story that had surface similarities to Travis and myself—from our college times. The emotions were all about Mark and this silly self-imposed separation we were going through. The longing I put into that short story was unbearable.

  Then I deleted it. Every last word.

  I managed to get situated in bed. Mark sent me some texts and pictures. I responded. We chatted for about half an hour, but nothing had changed on my end so it was kind of a slow conversation. My comments were all pathetic ‘I love you’s’ and ‘I miss you’s’. Clearly, I was a wimp.

  SATURDAY MORNING WAS crisp and refreshing so I walked down to the Lake, then along the shore. I didn’t normally take walks in the morning because that was my writing time, which had been my habit for years, but over the last eight months that morning hour had morphed into a time of deep introspection.

  Kind of like meditation.

  I didn’t walk alone—I had my trusty phone with me in case Mark decided to call. How silly! Of course Mark wasn’t going to call at seven thirty in the morning.

  I sat on the edge of the beach and felt the sun on my face as it warmed the air. The water smelled like dead fish. The seagulls were awake and asking for spare crackers. The clouds were still pinkish. Joggers ran on the beach behind me.

  I sighed, then wrapped my hands around my legs as if to hug myself. I felt so pathetic and lonely. I just wanted Mark back where he belonged. Was that too much to ask?

  My phone rang.

  It was Mark. “Hey,” I said wondrously, not sure if I was dreaming.

  “Hey babe,” Mark whispered. “I couldn’t sleep this morning. I missed the sunrise, but I was thinking about you.”

  “I’m just here watching the sun and thinking of you.”

  “I’m down at the pier with an empty chair beside me. I think it’s calling your name... where’s Chris? Where’s Chris?” He laughed. “Oh wait, that’s just the waves crashing on the rocks.”

  “Well I’ve got a flock of crazy seagulls that are chanting your name... Mark, Mark, Mark. As if I didn’t already know you weren’t here?”

  “Seagulls?”

  “I walked down to the beach to watch the sunrise.”

  “Aw,” he said in a goofy tone. “Looks like we had the same idea. Great minds think alike.”

  “Whatever,” I said, embarrassed. “I missed sleeping next to you.”

  “You’re a clingy little bitch.”

  My jaw fell from my face and into the sand. “I don’t like that word!”

  He laughed like a maniac. Mark knew how to make me feel better. Just a couple words from him and my heart was soaring. We chatted for a few more minutes before Mark said he was getting called in for breakfast.

  “I’ll be home tonight. Don’t forget, we’re going to church tomorrow.”

  I rolled my eyes but held in my deep sigh.

  “Don’t roll your eyes at me,” he commanded.

  “I didn’t.”

  “You’re a fucking liar.” He chuckled. “You’re gonna like our minister. He’s a great guy and really helped me... well, get over myself.” Mark had brought up ‘church’ quite a few times since we had gotten back together. He spoke of it enthusiastically, which was very, very different from the old Mark, who had always claimed he hated religion.

  “Okay,” I said. “I already agreed to go with you this one time.”

  “You’re going to love it. As if you’d stay behind... you’re way too needy.”

  “Who’s the one that keeps calling me every fifteen minutes?”

  “It’s not every fifteen minutes! I lasted the entire night without texting you once!”

  “Goodbye, Mark.”

  “I hope those seagulls follow you for the rest of the day.”

  “Enjoy your breakfast, Mark.”

  “I’ll be home by three.”

  “Go back to bed and get some sleep. How do you have so much energy in the morning?”

  “Love you, too.”

  I hung up the phone. Then I felt bad for not ending with an ‘I love you’ so I texted him.

  = I love you =

  ~new phone, who dis?~

  = fuck you =

  I walked up the beach and back to his apartment building. There was a glow about me that was more than the early morning sunshine. I stepped in dog poop, but didn’t even care. There was a satisfied grin plastered across my face and nothing would erase it.

  I took the stairs up to his room, counting each one. No idea why I did that, but that’s what I did.

  Mark called me when I hit the eighth floor. I smirked as I looked down at the number. It had been exactly twenty-five minutes since our last call.

  “Told you you couldn’t stop calling me,” I taunted.

  “Oh. My. God.” It was a female voic
e... Melanie. “Oh. My. God. I knew there was something going on. What are you doing with my brother!? What the fuck are you doing with my brother? Fucking pervert.”

  “Mel! Calm down.”

  “Calm down!” Melanie yelled, her head nearly erupting out of my phone’s speaker. “I saw you two days ago. Were you with him then? Are you running around behind my back!”

  “You and Suhail were running around behind my back so—”

  “Fuck you! Chris, you stay away from him. You broke his fucking heart.”

  “We broke each other’s.”

  She was not in a mood to argue the facts. “You’re bad for him. You know how messed up he was after you dumped him!”

  Me... me dump him?

  “Uh... listen, Mel—”

  “No, you listen to me, you little shithead. I’m gonna drive down to your shitty apartment and burn it all to Hell!”

  Well, I’m basically moved into Mark’s place anyway...

  “I’m coming out to my parents,” I said, hoping that would break her onslaught.

  “What?”

  “That’s why I’m not with Mark right now. I’m going to introduce Mark to my parents before we go public with your family.”

  “After how you treated him, you shouldn’t show your face here ever again!”

  I had a sneaking suspicion that Mark might have mixed up the story of how we’d broken up. We’d have to talk about it later. Suddenly all his statements about ‘smoothing it over with his family’ made sense.

  “Mel, please. Don’t make a scene about this. At least not until we make it official? Can you hold it in for me?”

  “What the hell for! I’m pissed off!”

  “Why don’t you channel your anger at Suhail,” I suggested, throwing my friend under the bus.

  “What do you mean?” Her voice dropped dangerously low.

  “Well, he is the one that kind of set us back up. You should ask him about it.”

  “Oh I will.”

  Okay, that should keep her occupied. “Just remember, please don’t tell Mark about this. We’ve got a plan—”