3

by Jacob Z. Flores

  “You think so?” Heidi asked him. “You think you’re ready to move on, ready to finally get Justin out of your system? Ready to make a new life for yourself?”

  “I’m just going to go,” Justin said, inching closer to the door.

  “You stay right where you are!” Heidi yelled at him.

  Justin froze like a soldier before a drill sergeant. Dutch was impressed.

  “So, big brother,” she said, turning once again to him. “You think you’re ready for all that?”

  “I know I am.”

  Heidi scoffed. “You don’t even know what you want. You’re not ready.”

  “What makes you the expert on what I want?” he asked. “I wasn’t aware you got your degree in psychology.” She was starting to piss him off. Not only did she think she knew his wishes better than he did, but she had prevented Justin from leaving, which was what he wanted all along.

  “No degree,” she said while shaking her head. “But I have qualifications no one else on this planet does.”

  “What would that be?”

  “I’m your sister,” Heidi replied. “I know you better than you know yourself. I know you want to be over Justin. I know you don’t want to love him anymore. You have no idea how much I wish that for you, but wishing it doesn’t make it come true.”

  She moved over to him. Her hand hovered over his head. “Your head knows what it should want,” she told him. Her hand then moved over his chest. “But your heart tells you something else. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been calling for Justin when you started to come out of your coma. For three days, you called for him. I finally asked him to come this morning.”

  Dutch didn’t remember calling for Justin, but his sister’s face told him it was the truth. He did call for Justin.

  Why did I do it? Why did I spend what little energy I had calling for someone who abandoned me and broke my heart? Am I a glutton for punishment, even in a coma?

  All those questions troubled him, but the one he worried about the most was the final question that floated to the surface. Why did Justin come?

  CHAPTER 20

  2009

  DUTCH had no idea what came over him. He should never have sent that message. You’re always welcome in my bed? Really? What the hell was I thinking? It was too salacious and too forward and would most likely cost him a dear friend.

  J-squared told him as much by logging off Cyber shortly after he sent it.

  When he saw the green light next to J-squared’s profile blink off, he knew he had screwed up.

  J-squared wasn’t at a point in his life where he could deal with such inane propositions. His partner had just left the country and him for sixteen weeks. He was hurting and in pain. And instead of being there for him, Dutch basically tried to seduce him while he was at his lowest.

  He wouldn’t blame J-squared for never sending him another message again.

  Dutch stood in the dining room, staring at his phone resting on the kitchen table, where he left it shortly after logging off Cyber as well. While only a few feet away, it appeared to be miles from his grasp. He needed to reach the phone, to apologize or laugh off the comment as a joke, but his feet would not obey.

  His body locked up as if he were asking it to cross a chasm on an unsteady rope bridge. He needed to move, though, to salvage what he could of their relationship. Their chats had become very important to him. J-squared was his lifeline in these turbulent waters of unemployment and financial crisis.

  He took his first step toward the kitchen, and his body screamed for him to stop. Ignorance was better in this instance. If he didn’t know how angry or how hurt J-squared was, he wouldn’t have to deal with the ramifications.

  He refused to allow that to stop him. He was a big boy; he could handle whatever came his way because of his foolish comment. Making amends would be top priority, and if he couldn’t, well, he would deal with the loss.

  What other choice do I have?

  Before he knew it, he’d picked up his phone and turned it on. He logged back into Cyber. Next to J-squared’s profile picture was the number three, indicating Dutch had three messages from him. The light next to J-squared’s profile picture was green. J-squared was back online.

  This is it, he thought. This is where J-squared tells me our online friendship is over.

  Hovering his finger over the screen, he hesitated. He didn’t want to hear the good-bye, but he had to accept it. His father taught him that a man accepted the lumps he was due. A quick double tap on the profile picture delivered the three messages onto Dutch’s phone screen.

  J-SQUARED: Sorry about logging off before, but you took me by surprise. Your offer is tempting, but dinner first would probably be more appropriate.

  J-SQUARED: Knowing our real names might help too. I’m Justin.

  J-SQUARED: You still there?

  Disbelief coursed through Dutch’s body. The received replies were unexpected. He’d prepared himself for anger or even silence. Never once did he entertain the idea that J-squared, no, Justin, would be interested in meeting and potentially taking him up on his offer.

  All he could do was stare at the messages and contemplate the possibilities.

  Justin’s responses revealed a great deal. Early on during their initial chats on Cyber, they had both agreed to keep their identities secret, hoping to avoid any embarrassing situations should their online chats somehow go wrong. It was also why he only knew Justin’s partner as S.

  Anonymity freed them from worry as well as inhibitions. They could be who they truly were and express any thought, opinion, or desire without fear of consequence.

  It was an agreement they’d both lived up to and supported fully. Until now.

  Now, he knew J-squared’s first name. To pursue this further meant he would soon know Justin’s last name; he would then be expected to return the favor. The anonymity they’d enjoyed and the relationship it helped cultivate floated skyward like a kite caught in an updraft.

  Even more than that, they were on the threshold of transporting their online relationship to the real world. That, more than the revelations of their names, was dangerous.

  A precipice lay before them. Once they jumped, a return to their previous arrangement was impossible.

  Still, the thought of what they might be jumping into excited Dutch. He typically leaped first and looked later, just like Yosemite Sam. That had always gotten him into trouble in the past. This time, he felt it would be different.

  J-SQUARED: Sorry for breaking our rule. I obviously scared you off. You don’t have to share your name or anything. You were probably joking and stupid me thought you were serious. I’m just really stupid right now.

  Dutch smiled at the message. It was sincere and honest, characteristics he had come to depend on.

  DUTCH: You’re not stupid. I was pleasantly surprised by your response. So much so I couldn’t believe it. BTW, my name is Lukas Keller, but most everyone calls me Dutch.

  J-SQUARED: LOL! So it’s been Dutch all along!

  DUTCH: Afraid so. Nice to know your name, Justin.

  J-SQUARED: Same here, Dutch. My last name is Jimenez, btw.

  DUTCH: Ah, Justin Jimenez. J-squared makes sense now.

  J-SQUARED: I thought it sounded cooler than J.J.

  Dutch chuckled. The humor made it easier to deal with the nerves they both undoubtedly felt. A boundary had been broken; their names were shared. Searches on Google or Facebook would deliver information about their lives and pasts. They could read where the other went to school and learn other information that was freely shared or public knowledge.

  Their lives were now an open book lying on the table, just waiting to be read.

  J-SQUARED: Have you Googled me yet?

  He laughed out loud. The two of them were definitely on the same wavelength.

  DUTCH: No. You Google me?

  J-SQUARED: No, but I’m tempted.

  DUTCH: How about we agree not to? Let’s meet for dinner instead and share the
info in person.

  J-SQUARED: I would like that.

  DUTCH: Me 2. When should we do dinner?

  J-SQUARED: You have plans tonight?

  Dutch liked Justin’s style. He too was a rip-the-Band-Aid-off-the-hairy-leg kind of man. Since they had broken one boundary today, they might as well break some more.

  DUTCH: Dinner with you, I’m hoping.

  J-SQUARED: Great! You like seafood?

  DUTCH: I do.

  J-SQUARED: Ever been to Pesca on the River Walk?

  DUTCH: Never.

  J-SQUARED: It’s good. How about we meet there at 8:00? I’ll make reservations.

  DUTCH: It’s a date.

  Dutch grimaced at his sloppy word choice. He didn’t mean to suggest anything more than a meeting of two friends.

  J-SQUARED: A date it is. See you tonight.

  The green light next to J-squared’s profile picture disappeared. Justin had gone offline.

  Dutch couldn’t log off Cyber. He stared at the last message.

  It was a date. Justin wasn’t hiding behind pretense. They weren’t two men meeting for a casual dinner; they were two men about to embark upon a risky romantic venture with potentially disastrous ramifications for them both.

  Dutch had always fancied himself an adventurer, willing to try most anything once. This had the potential of being one of the greatest adventures he had ever plunged into. Despite the risk, it was a journey he was anxious to begin.

  CHAPTER 21

  2010

  JUSTIN sat silently in the chair across from Dutch’s hospital bed. After Heidi scolded the two of them for not talking about their problems, she ordered them to work things out, to find closure. She refused to leave until they complied.

  He agreed to her request quickly. He had no other choice. The woman he’d met over a year ago wasn’t the woman he’d faced a few minutes before. When they met in Boston, she made him feel welcome and comfortable, even though her mother had just died. She appreciated the fact that he accompanied Dutch to Boston to help him get through the funeral and his loss.

  When he asked Dutch why his sister wasn’t more grief-stricken, Dutch told him Heidi was rarely sad. She was the happiest, most optimistic person he knew. A trait she inherited from their mother. She almost never got angry and never had anything bad to say to anyone, even if they deserved it.

  That wasn’t the woman he’d just faced. This Heidi was fed up and angry. Her eyes were no longer welcoming; they were pissed off and irritated, not just at the two of them for leaving so many issues unresolved but at how those problems had led her brother to his current state. Her unfaltering gaze and unyielding posture told them it was time to put their lives in order.

  He couldn’t disagree with that. Their lives were a mess. He’d lost Spencer, and Dutch had almost died. Whatever needed fixing between them needed to be resolved if they had any hope of healing their bodies and their souls.

  The problem was he didn’t know where to start.

  Dutch reluctantly gave in to his sister’s demands, but once she left the room, he turned to look out the window, completely ignoring him. The only thing Dutch obviously wanted was for him to just leave and never return.

  He couldn’t leave now. Dutch was broken and in dire need of repair.

  That realization hurt him because he knew he was partly, if not mostly, responsible. He needed to do something to make things right, not just with Spencer but with Dutch.

  “Where should we begin?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” replied Dutch. He continued to stare out the window, preferring to occupy his mind with the outside world than deal with what was awaiting him in the room. It was something Dutch did when in turmoil. He shut down, cutting himself off from his feelings, until the hot sting became a dull ache.

  “We should talk,” he told Dutch. “I don’t want your sister to get angry again.”

  “Okay,” Dutch said, turning to face him. “Let’s talk about you.”

  He was confused. “What do you mean?”

  “You look like shit.”

  He attempted a smile, but it felt forced. His bone-crunching pain over losing Spencer floated on the surface of his emotions, no matter how hard he tried to cover it up. He didn’t want Dutch to see it, but Dutch could always sense his pain. When they were together, Dutch had magically sensed when he was worried and pulled Justin into his arms to hold him. The beat of Dutch’s heart and the soft cushion of chest hair comforted him and calmed his troubled waters.

  He longed to once again be swallowed up in Dutch’s embrace, to crawl up and lie beside a man whose touch had the power to dissipate the fog of distress. They weren’t in that place anymore, though. His pain was his alone and no longer Dutch’s concern.

  “Look who’s talking,” he finally responded. “Swollen and scabby lips. A bruised face and lacerations everywhere. Pockets of shaved chest surrounded by a forest of dark hair. You’re not the picture of perfection yourself.”

  “I still look better than you.”

  “You always did.”

  Dutch’s eyes narrowed in anger. He’d meant for his compliment to ease the tension. Instead, he made it worse.

  “Let’s dispense with the pleasantries,” Dutch said. His crystal blue eyes frosted over. “Closure is what my sister thinks I need. Closure is what I intend to get.”

  Dutch’s bitter words hit hard. He shrunk into the seat, feeling like an abused pet awaiting the next blow from its vicious master. He wanted to scamper away and seek shelter, but this wasn’t about him. This was for Dutch. He needed to voice his anger, to set free the rage that blew within like a tempest.

  Justin sat up, bracing himself for the storm. “I’m ready,” he said. “Let me have it.”

  Dutch stared into his eyes. The frosty blue hue chilled even further, dropping to temperatures approaching absolute zero. The change told him there were things Dutch needed to say, things that had gone unsaid when their relationship ended.

  “You’re a bastard!” Dutch said. “You made me believe we had a future when you told me you loved me. And like a dumbass, I gave you my heart and let you inside.” Dutch stared at him; the heat of his words couldn’t melt his permafrost stare.

  “I know,” was all he mustered. “I’m sorry.”

  “Is that the best you can do?” Dutch asked. The temperature in the room dropped to match his chilling stare. “We practically lived together for sixteen weeks, and during that time I thought we built something that meant something. To both of us. I guess it was only important to me.”

  “That’s not true,” he responded. Anger overpowered the hurt in his voice. He couldn’t believe what Dutch had said. “What we had was just as important to me. I never expected to fall in love with another man. I never expected to become that guy.”

  He had told Dutch that much when Justin admitted he had fallen in love with him. Neither of them thought it would happen, but it did. He expected the declaration to be taken at face value since Justin never fell in love easily, a fact Dutch knew.

  Still, he didn’t know what being in love with Dutch meant. Would they be able to make it through Spencer’s return from London? Was his relationship with Spencer really over?

  He didn’t have the answers then. All he knew was how he felt, and he loved Dutch.

  “I know you never expected it to happen, but it did,” Dutch said. “When you say you love someone, though, you don’t leave them like you left me.”

  His bitter, cold gaze slowly thawed, giving way to pain within. Seeing the pain made Justin wish for the chilly indifference to return. “What was I supposed to do?” Justin asked. “I hadn’t stopped loving Spencer. He and I had history. We built a life together.”

  “What were we building? A lie?”

  “Of course not,” Justin said. His anger was on the rise. “What I felt was never a lie, you know that.” The abused pet cowering in the corner disappeared. Once again, a spark burned within. “I had to make a choice. I didn’t like
making it. But I had to do it. I couldn’t be in love with two men and be in two relationships. I had to choose one.”

  “I know. I was the expendable one.”

  “You were never expendable. You aren’t expendable,” he replied, rising from the chair. “You’ve no idea how much leaving you hurt me too.”

  “You’re right,” Dutch answered. His voice dripped with venom. “You left and stopped talking to me. No matter how many times I reached out to you. No matter how many times I extended my hand in friendship. You cut me out of your life without once thinking about how that would make me feel.”

  For a few moments, they stared at each other in silence. What could he say to Dutch’s comment? He had severed all ties with Dutch, but not because he didn’t care. It was just the opposite. Completely exiting his life was supposed to help Dutch move on.

  “I thought it would be easier that way,” he whispered.

  “Are you fucking serious?”

  “Yes,” he said, nodding. “I figured if we stopped talking, you would eventually hate me and move on with your life a lot faster than I was able to.”

  Dutch grunted. “You’re one of the stupidest men I’ve ever met.”

  “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Not talking to you made me drink nonstop. Only alcohol numbed the pain.”

  Justin’s eyes widened with the revelation. He’d truly had no idea how badly Dutch took their breakup. How could something meant to spare pain have been the cause of so much?

  “How do you think the accident occurred?” Dutch asked. “I was drunk. I almost killed myself.” Dutch raised his right arm and pointed at him. “Because of you.”

  Justin stepped back. The power of the accusation hit him hard. He fell into the chair, defeated and exhausted. The weight of the cosmos rested on his shoulders, and he felt as if his body was collapsing in upon itself.

  His actions were unforgivable. Even though he’d never meant to be the cause of so much pain—to Dutch or Spencer—he was. How had he turned into his father?