Remember My Name

by Laurencia Hoffman

  “I haven’t had a stellar week.” Sitting up slowly, he pressed a hand to his head.

  “You didn’t have a good Christmas?”

  “No. I didn’t go.”

  “Wait, you were alone for the holiday?” He paused. “Is everything okay? Is it your heart?”

  Shane rolled his eyes. “Why are we playing twenty questions?”

  “I assume you’re not in the mood to talk about it then.”

  “No.”

  “Alright, I’ll let it go.” He sighed. “Are we still on for tonight?”

  Shane had forgotten about their plans to get together after Christmas. The week had been a blur. He wasn’t even sure what day of the week it was. The only thing he remembered doing was feeding Teddy and taking him outside when needed. “No. I can’t.”

  “Oh, that’s a shame. I was looking forward to your company.”

  “Cut the shit. I’m terrible company.” Taking in a shuddering breath, he attempted to keep his voice steady. “No one should ever be around me.”

  “Shane, what’s going on?”

  “I can’t talk right now.”

  “I’m coming over.”

  He planted his feet on the floor. If Callan stopped by, he didn’t know that he’d be able to keep it together. “No, you can’t.”

  “I know something’s wrong, I can hear it in your voice.”

  Was there any point in trying to argue with him? It might be worse if he did. Cal, he could handle, but if he tried to come over with more people, or worse, the cops, Shane would lose control of the situation. “Fine.”

  There was another pause. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

  Gaze flicking to the sleeping dog on the floor, he licked his lips anxiously. “You want to know why there’s a piece of Teddy’s ear missing?”

  “Okay.”

  “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.” His voice broke as curled back up on the couch. “Everything.”

  “Shane, you’re not making sense.” The sound of a car door closing could be heard. “I’m on my way. You’re at home?”

  He sniffled. “Yeah.”

  “Don’t go anywhere, alright? Just stay where you are.”

  Cal hung up and Shane heaved a sigh, wondering whether or not he had the physical strength to answer the door.

  The amount of alcohol in his system would be enough to break down his walls. If Cal asked him any questions, he just might answer them truthfully.

  He tried to think about how the conversation would go, what he should and shouldn’t say. It was difficult to think when his mind was swimming with thoughts.

  Before he was ready, there was a knock on the door, and Shane begrudgingly got up to open it.

  He gave a half-hearted smile, gesturing for Cal to come inside. Shane closed the door with his foot and returned to his safe spot – the couch.

  Teddy panted excitedly, wagging his tail as Cal leaned down to pet him. Then, pursing his lips, he stood in front of the curly-haired brunette.

  “What’s wrong, Shane? Tell me, please.”

  He shook his head.

  Cal knelt in front of him. “You’re not thinking about hurting yourself, are you?”

  “What are you going to do, call the fucking cops?” Lying down on the couch, he turned on his side, face toward the cushions.

  He sighed. “You’re drunk.”

  “Yeah, you would be too if you were in my shoes.”

  “Is that safe with your medication?”

  “Stop mothering me, for fuck’s sake!” Looking over his shoulder to see Teddy with his ears down, Shane instantly felt guilty. “Sorry, Teddy. I’m not mad at you, I promise.”

  “I’m worried about you.” Cal placed a hand on his shoulder. “I can see that you’re upset but I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.”

  “Do you want to see my scars?” The words had come out of his mouth before he could stop them. For a moment, he wondered if Cal had even heard the offer because the room was silent.

  “Shane, I…”

  It could have been the alcohol talking, but if there was ever a time to show the love of his life the weight he carried with him, it was now. “Come on, I know you’re curious about them.” He sat up properly, though still facing the couch cushions instead of his boyfriend. “Wanna see what all the fuss is about?”

  Callan heaved a sigh. “I don’t want you to do this just because you’re drunk. I know how sensitive of a subject this is for you.”

  “Do you want to see them or not?”

  There was a long pause. Long enough that he almost fell asleep. And then came the answer.

  “Okay, Shane. Okay.”

  He pulled the white t-shirt over his head and heard a soft gasp. Already, he was regretting the decision.

  Shane felt brave enough to turn around and face the blond. Clearing his throat nervously, he tucked a curl behind his ear.

  The color drained from Callan’s face. His expression was beyond shock. Pursing his lips while the bottom one trembled, his tear-filled gaze examined each wound.

  “My God, Shane. You were in this much pain?”

  He shrugged and looked away, his heart racing from the uncomfortable display. Other than his doctors, who had done nothing but shame him, this was the first time he’d been shirtless in front of anyone in a very long time. “Still am, I guess.”

  “It’s okay, you don’t have to hide from me. You’re safe.” Cal lifted Shane’s chin, forcing him to look up. “Can I touch them?”

  “Knock yourself out.”

  Callan took great care in his touch, fingers gently gliding over the various marks. Some were jagged, some were smooth, and most were in different directions across his skin, though a few of them overlapped.

  He shook his head and quickly wiped away tears. “How did you get these? I know you couldn’t have done all of this yourself.”

  Taking a deep breath, he placed a shaking hand over his chest, concentrating on the rapid beating of his heart and trying to slow it. “I like pain. You know that.”

  “Yes, but I don’t think you liked these. The scars tell a story.” Sitting on the couch, he leaned over to further examine Shane’s back, his hand pressed against a few of the scars that connected. “They’re angry. Your skin was torn. I don’t think you wanted these. Your body wasn’t prepared for them.”

  “Please stop,” he whispered, head falling into his hands. “Stop asking about my scars. Just stop. I can’t go down that road.”

  “Does that mean I’m onto something?”

  “Cal, I mean it.”

  “If someone hurt you, they need to be held accountable.”

  “You don’t understand!” His fingertips pressed into the edges of his face, knuckles turning white. “It was my father.”

  “Your…what?” Cal knelt in front of Shane once more, carefully prying his hands away from his face. “What did you say?”

  He tried to take in several breaths but the air wouldn’t reach his lungs. It was as if his body was rejecting the very idea of breathing; he couldn’t manage it.

  All the years of half-truths, lying by omission, and keeping the darkest secrets any child could keep against a parent, had finally caught up to him.

  And it felt like dying. The cold air sweeping into his lungs seemed more like fire, his body shaking from the effort of remaining conscious.

  “Shane, look at me, just breathe.” Cal cupped the brunette’s face in his hands. “I’m here. You’re safe with me. Follow my breathing, alright? Try to match it.”

  Callan took in one breath after another and let each one out slowly. Shane did his best to follow suit while looking into those focused blue hues. Within a few minutes – although it seemed like forever – he was able to calm down.

  Throwing his arms around Cal’s neck, he held on tightly.

  “You’re the only person I’ve told,” he confessed.

  “I don’t know what to say.” His voice was just as strained as Shane’s, but i
t sounded like he was trying to steady it. “I’m so sorry, Shane. I had no idea. But it all makes sense now.”

  “Just hold me, please.”

  Choking back a sob, Callan’s arms slowly wrapped around him, hands pressed to bare skin. They stayed in each other’s arms, both crying and attempting to dry one another’s tears, but both sets of hands were damp from the effort and it was no use.

  When he was ready, Shane pulled back and slipped his t-shirt back on. “There’s another one, but I don’t think…” Sniffling, he lifted up the edge of his shirt to wipe his face. “It’s my least favorite. I can’t handle showing you that one.”

  “You don’t have to.” Cal placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. “I don’t understand how you were able to keep this secret for so long. Has no one else questioned how you got those scars?”

  “They bought my bullshit.” He shrugged, hands resting between his knees. “I don’t know if anyone thought it was strange, but they believed me. And my dad is just-he’s really convincing. He taught me to be just as skilled in the art of lying. People will believe anything he says.”

  Furrowing his brow, he shook his head. “How did your family not know? Didn’t they think it was suspicious that you came back from your father’s house with new wounds?”

  “I spent a lot of summers with him. That’s mostly when it happened. The agreement was for six weeks out of every summer, but my mom was working a lot and didn’t want me to be left to my own devices.” Leaning back against the couch cushions, he pursed his lips. “Once she thought I was cutting myself, she insisted that I spend more time with my dad. So, he could, you know, keep an eye on me.”

  “Little did she know…” His bottom lip trembled. “Shane, I’m sorry. You’ve been in so much pain and I was blind to it.”

  “Don’t cry for me, Cal. Please don’t cry.” Leaning forward, he ran a hand through Callan’s hair. “You weren’t blind to it. You knew something was wrong all along. I just couldn’t tell you.”

  Clenching his jaw, he shot to his feet. “He’s not going to get away with this. I won’t let him.”

  “No, Cal, don’t-” He took a tight hold of his hand. “Leave it alone. You don’t know what he’s like.”

  “I can see what he’s like. He fucking tortured you!”

  “I know, but, Cal…” Shane’s voice was desperate as he tried to find the right words. If anything happened to the man he loved, he would never forgive himself, and he was responsible for enough harm as it was. “If you say anything to him, or go after him, it won’t matter. Nothing will come of it.”

  Callan’s fists were clenched and his body was pointed in the direction of the door, but when he looked back at Shane, his fists loosened. “Maybe not tonight, but soon. I can’t leave you like this.”

  “Well, you can’t stay.” Rubbing his tired eyes, he stood up, though he was swaying on his feet. “You shouldn’t be here. You can’t be around me, Cal. It’s not safe.”

  “Why not?” He carefully wrapped his arms around Shane to keep him from falling. “Is this because you hit me? If it is, we’ll work on it. You didn’t mean it, Shane. You were coming out of a very serious nightmare and I don’t blame you, okay? I can handle it.”

  Tears brimmed his eyes and he attempted to swallow the lump in his throat. “You shouldn’t have to.”

  He placed a hand against Shane’s cheek. “I will do anything to make this work.”

  “I’m really fucked up, Cal.” Shaking his head, his fingers tapped his right temple. “I’m not right. My head is just…it’s all fucked.”

  “I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through, but you don’t have to be alone. Let me take care of you.”

  One more night. That was all he wanted. One night where he had been vulnerable, one night where he had let his guard down, where he had fallen into utter despair and Callan had caught him.

  Shane needed to know what that was like. Did it help? Did it validate everything he was saying? He already knew that it wasn’t worth the risk, nothing was. No warm embrace, no tender kiss, and no words of comfort were worth someone’s life.

  But this was Callan. The moment they had laid eyes on one another, Shane had known that he would never want anyone else. When he had realized that he was in love with the tall blond, he had known that he would never love anyone else the way he loved Callan.

  Would it be so terrible to allow himself one last night of comfort, to take Callan in, to feel the peace of being in his arms?

  “Okay,” he sighed in defeat. “You can stay, but you have to promise not to say anything to my father.”

  “For you? Anything.”

  Shane poked his chest. “I mean it, Cal. You have to promise.”

  “Alright, alright.” Cal pulled him in closer. “I promise.”

  Even with the love of his life holding him close, Shane had another sleepless night. Cal began to stir. They laid there for some time, waiting for the sound of chirping birds before officially declaring themselves awake.

  “How did you sleep?” Cal asked before pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

  He was unaware that Shane had made several trips to the bathroom, his stomach trying to lurch contents that were non-existent. Hours of dry-heaving wasn’t unusual given his situation. Sometimes it was the medication that produced the symptom. Other times, it was the memories.

  “I didn’t,” he grumbled, throwing Cal’s arm off him.

  “You should have woken me. I would have stayed up with you.”

  With his feet planted on the floor and his back facing his lover, Shane buried his face in his hands. “You need to leave.”

  “Did I do something wrong?” He pressed a gentle hand to Shane’s bare back. “Do you regret confiding in me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Shane, I’ll never tell a soul.”

  “I know.”

  “Then why do you regret it?”

  “Because I regret us.” Standing up to face the half-naked blond, he put his hands on his hips. “I regret meeting you. I regret letting you back into my life. I regret that I let you come here last night.”

  Sitting up in bed, Cal folded his arms. “You don’t mean that.”

  “Are you calling me a liar again?”

  Shaking his head, he averted his gaze. “Why are you doing this?”

  He leaned down to pick up Cal’s discarded clothing from the night before, throwing each individual item toward him. “Do you remember what you said to me the day you left?”

  “Yes.” His movements were slow as he pulled on his clothes, like a wounded animal afraid of further angering its owner. “I said that...we were never meant to last. That it would never work out between us.”

  “And?”

  When he met Shane’s gaze, his eyes were bloodshot and glossed over. “That our relationship was only temporary.”

  “That’s what this was. That’s what we always were. Temporary.”

  “Don’t tell me that this is about some petty revenge.” Getting out of bed, he gathered his socks and shoes, hastily putting them on. “I don’t believe it. The things I’ve seen, what you’ve told me-”

  “None of it matters!” He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to find a tone within him that would sound convincing. “I don’t want you, Cal. I thought I needed closure and I guess I have that now. We were never meant to last.”

  With a small nod, Cal walked down the hallway and Shane followed him. Seeing the hurt in his eyes made Shane want to take it all back immediately, but he needed to see this through.

  “We’re over. I don’t want to see you again.”

  He stopped near the door, turning around and raising his hands as if to argue his point. But he seemed to think better of it, lowering his arms and shaking his head.

  “This may be over for you, but it will never end for me. I will always love you, Shane.”

  “Don’t do that to yourself.” He opened the door and gestured for Cal to walk through it. “Move on. Go live your
life.”

  Cal opened his mouth and closed it again. He was staring at the floor, gaze wandering between their feet and the cross of the threshold that would take him out of the apartment.

  Shane could see that he was struggling to speak. He attempted to several times, but choked back sobs each instance. Shane gripped the door, knuckles white from the effort. It took every fiber of his being to focus on the bigger picture, to not throw his arms around Cal and comfort him.

  It was better this way. As long as he remained stern, Cal would listen to him. But if he broke down, Cal would refuse to leave.

  Finally, Cal took a deep breath, and spoke. “There is no life without you.”

  Rubbing his eyes to conceal the tears behind them, Shane shoved the tall blond over the threshold and closed the door in his face.

  He could hear crying from the other side of the door. Pressing his hand to the frame, he pursed his lips. It would have been so easy to open the door and welcome him back, but being near him was a death sentence.

  Callan may never understand why Shane was breaking his heart, along with his own, but as long as Shane knew, that was all that mattered. The man’s unconditional love for him would be his motivation. A reminder to keep it that way.

  Boundaries were more important than love.

  Safety was more important than love.

  Callan’s life was certainly worth more than the tightening in his chest, the palpitations, and the nausea sweeping over him.

  Every light in the house was on. He could see it from the windows. Was it because she was afraid of the dark? Did the house seem infinitely lonelier without Ethan?

  Taking a deep breath, he tapped the bottom of the door with his foot, hands full of presents.

  The door opened and two small humans threw their arms around him.

  “Uncle Shane!”

  “Hi, guys!” His voice was higher than usual. Why was that? Was it guilt? What a stupid thing to do, as if a softer tone would ease the pain of their absent father. “Let me in, it’s really cold out here.”

  Neither of them wanted to let go, both taking a hold of each arm, unconcerned about the gifts he was holding.