“Mattie,” Simon said weakly. “All of those things… they’re circumstances, not who you are or were.”
Mattie let out a deep breath. “The worst of it, though, the worst of it was feeling helpless. Prostitution is degrading. But not knowing how to even begin to make a better life for yourself? That’s the kind of stuff that can make you feel hopeless.”
Simon gently rolled Mattie onto his back so that he could lean on one arm beside him. He cupped Mattie’s jaw, his thumb stroking over his cheek. “You did do better for yourself, Mattie.”
Mattie smiled a little tremulously. “I know. I met you.”
Simon felt something heavy settle uncomfortably in his stomach. “No, Mattie. You got your GED. You’re waiting tables now.” Even before he’d finished speaking, a sense of shame settled deep within him. Was this what Ty had meant? Had he seriously just told the man he loved that he was a different person now because he was allowed to take a customer’s order?
“No, Simon. I don’t think you get it.” Mattie rolled on his side to face him, and worried his lip as he struggled with his words. “Every day I was treading water, Simon. I was working so hard to just not give in, you know?”
Simon opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t. He shook his head unhappily. “I—I don’t—”
“Twenty-six, and I couldn’t do shit. I—I didn’t know how to look after myself, how to function normally like other people. I’d watch the customers that came into the diner. I’d look at you, with your laptop, with your son, and I’d wonder what the hell was wrong with me. I’d wonder how all these other people managed to lead normal lives so easily. I’d look at them. I’d feel so fucking alone, Simon, you’ve no idea.”
Mattie quickly wiped at the corner of his eye with the heel of his hand. He kept his eyes downcast, wanting to flush all the built-up bile out of his body, out of his heart, but to do that he couldn’t look up.
“I’d see you writing away, and then I’d go to these adult reading and writing classes and struggle to understand such basic shit. Every day I’d try, I’d try harder to feel like I belonged with other people, but I’d fail.” He shrugged helplessly. “I’d fail and I’d fail and I’d fucking fail.”
“Jesus, Mattie,” Simon whispered.
“So I’d picture this coil, right?” He dared look up into eyes that were glassy and sad. “I’d picture this rope just winding itself tight around—around the me that’s inside, you know?”
“I—I….”
“And it’s like the tighter it wound, the safer I was. If the rope pulled hard, then it’d stop me from just completely floating away. But at the same time—” He frowned and shook his head. “—it would choke me. The more I gritted my teeth, the more I’d try and then fail. Try and then fail… it suffocated me. But I needed it.” He let out a deep breath. “God, does that make any sense?”
“I had no idea,” Simon replied, his voice barely there.
“One of the few things that kept me going was trying to get my GED, wanting to go to school—”
“New York?” Simon asked quietly, swallowing hard.
“Yeah. Man,” Mattie laughed quietly. “I wanted it so bad. Did I ever tell you why?” He frowned. “I don’t think I did, seems so unimportant now… anyway, I spent my teens crashing on the couches of various friends, and then there was this one New Year’s that I ended up in this basement….”
SIMON listened with a sinking heart as Mattie explained why he had so set his hopes on New York. He felt overwhelmed with guilt. This young man who’d had a less than supportive start out in life, who had lost all sense of self-worth along the way, and who had somehow managed to plow through and find a way of changing a rather bleak future… this man was now setting all these hopes in him.
“And I really do feel like I’ve made it out to the other side, Simon.” Mattie smiled and kissed him softly. “Because of you. You and Jamie.”
“But what about New York?” he asked thickly.
Mattie shrugged, and Simon could feel the sense of loss that Mattie was burying. It made him want to throw up.
“Hey, I have you now. You’re all I want.” Mattie said it reassuringly, but for Simon, it felt anything but. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“So you’re going to keep working at the diner?”
Mattie relaxed back into Simon’s side, and Simon rubbed the arm that lay across his middle, though his throat felt tight and his head dizzy.
“For now. Maybe when I’m feeling a little more confident with the reading and writing I’ll try and get a better paid job. Perhaps an office somewhere.” He shrugged. “I’ll be normal, just like everyone else.”
Simon ran a hand over his face. An office. This brilliant young man was going to wait tables and then learn how to type letters for a living, just so he could be a part of his and Jamie’s life.
Mattie sighed. “I couldn’t be happier.”
Yes, you could.
HE’D tried his best to put it out of his mind. He wanted to be selfish. He wanted to keep Mattie away from the rest of the world and all to himself. He wanted to ignore his conscience, but he couldn’t. It’d been bad enough knowing the upsetting truth about Mattie’s past. Just knowing that Mattie had tortured himself so much killed him, but knowing what it was Mattie was giving up and actually having it in front of him in black and white was the deal-breaker.
Mattie was in the shower, and Simon had been brushing his teeth when he’d suggested the two of them go out to dinner one night. Somewhere nice, on him. The sweet guy that he was, Mattie was excited, but needed to check his work pattern for the next week. He’d offered to check it for Mattie, and after going through his backpack kept by the front door, he’d found the letter. The fucking letter.
Mattie was oblivious. He had no idea he’d found the letter, and had no idea that Simon had agonized over it ever since. A place at the Art Institute of New York for three years. Financial aid. Everything Mattie had worked for was here, in this letter, offered to him on a silver goddamn platter.
He’d come so close, so close to ignoring what he knew was the right thing, and keeping Mattie to himself. He’d come so close to letting what was rightfully Mattie’s just slip away, so that they could be a family. But the simple truth was that he loved Mattie too much to let him settle. He couldn’t do it.
Now he sat at his kitchen table, the letter in front of him, as he waited for Mattie to come home. He rubbed at his already wet, stinging eyes and clenched his jaw when he heard Mattie let himself in.
“Si?” He strode into the kitchen. “Hey, you. Sorry I’m late. I picked up a few things before coming over.”
Simon watched, saying nothing as Mattie put the brown paper bag on the kitchen counter and began to unpack. “I got some popcorn for me and gummy bears for J. Are you watching the movie with us, or are in your office tonight?”
“Mattie, come sit down.”
“Where’s Jamie?” he asked, his back still to Simon.
“He’s with Sarah tonight. Please, just come sit down.”
“I thought we were watching a movie?” Mattie glanced over his shoulder and did a quick double take. “Hey, you feeling okay?”
“Mattie, we—we have to talk.”
Mattie smiled nervously. “That doesn’t sound too good.” His smile slowly slipped away. “Why do you look like that?”
“Mattie—”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Mattie strode over to Simon, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw what was on the table. He shot Simon a quick, nervous look, pressed a palm to his forehead, and then took a steadying breath. He knelt in front of Simon, his hands resting on Simon’s leg.
“Okay. I understand why you might be freaking out, but I promise you, I promise you I am not leaving. I was just… it’s only—”
“You’re leaving, Mattie.”
“No, that’s what I’m trying to tell you, silly, I’m not. Simon, I’m your guy, remember? I am not
Tim, I’m not taking off.”
“You’re going, Mattie!” Simon raised his voice, shoving Mattie’s hands away from him as he turned away, elbow on table and his face covered by one hand. “I want you to leave,” he forced out.
Mattie stood slowly, frowning. “I don’t get it. I—I just told you I wasn’t going to take off. Simon… what the hell?”
“You are going to New York, Mattie. We can argue about it until we’re both blue in the face, but you’re going.”
“I don’t….” Mattie shrugged helplessly, struggling to say anything. “I’m telling you that I don’t want to leave. I’m not leaving! What… is this you pushing me away before I can leave you? A ‘hurting me before I can hurt you’ kind of thing?”
Simon shook his head, feeling drained. “No. This is me letting you go because you deserve—”
Mattie’s hands flew up into the air before landing on his hips. “So it’s some sort of ‘if you love it set it free’ kind of bullshit!”
“No, this is called doing the right thing.”
“Simon!” he snapped. “I don’t want to go!”
“Then why are you carrying the letter of acceptance around in your fucking backpack?”
Having no response, Mattie finally looked away, walking back over to where he’d set down the groceries and leaning both hands on the kitchen counter. “I’ve just… I’ve never accomplished anything like that before. I didn’t want to throw it away.” He turned around, wet his lips. “But, Simon… getting in is enough. I don’t need to go.”
Simon shook his head, pushed away from the table, and stood to pace. He finally stopped in place, his shoulders slumped in resignation. “I called the Dean of Student Affairs, made up some bullshit excuse about there being a death in your family. You still have your place, but you’ve got—” He looked at his watch. “—until tonight, about four hours, to call and confirm your place yourself.”
“Simon, come on, please,” he choked out.
“I….” He took a deep breath. “I booked you a flight. It’s in nine days. It’ll have to be enough for you to give notice at the diner and say good-bye to your friends. Any later and you miss the beginning of the semester. You’re going to be in a pinch as it is finding an apartment at such short notice.”
“Will you just shut up for a minute?” Mattie bit out, his hands raking through his hair.
“It’s best to just end things now, I think.” Simon spoke quietly, nodding to himself and then turning away to swipe the back his hand across his eyes.
“You don’t get to make all the decisions here, okay? You don’t!”
“This has come out all wrong, but… fuck,” he hissed. “There is no right way to do this.”
“We’re not doing this!”
“I wrote you a check.” He pulled the folded check out of his pocket, placing it next to the letter on the table. “Five grand to help you with rent until you find a part-time job out there, okay?”
“Simon, just—”
“And it is not a loan. Any money you make you have to put toward school, not paying me back.” He looked at Mattie sadly, who said nothing. “Mattie, are you—”
Mattie was rubbing his hands over his face, his shoulders hunched and tight. He turned suddenly, picked up the grocery bag, and lifted it in the air before slamming it down on the tiled floor with a loud cry.
Simon took a step back, but was quick to pull Mattie into his arms when the younger man’s shoulders began to shake, his breath catching in a desperate attempt to not break down in tears. “I know,” Simon choked out. “I know it’s… I’m dying here too, Mattie. I don’t want to lose you, but if you didn’t leave, I would fucking hate myself.”
Mattie turned in his arms, burying his face in Simon’s neck. “I don’t want to go. I want you and Jamie. I want to be a family with you.”
“I want that too, honey, I do.”
“Then why are you doing this? Why are you sending me away?”
Simon looked up the ceiling, his jaw clenched for a second, before gently pulling Mattie toward the kitchen table. “Sit.” He pulled a chair up close next to him, Mattie’s knees between his as he gently wiped away the dampness under those gorgeous hazel eyes. “This isn’t like before, when we hadn’t found our rhythm together yet. There aren’t any misunderstandings here, and we both know we love each other. This is about you going out there and getting what is yours.”
“I already have that.”
“Mattie, you haven’t done anything with your life yet. You haven’t had the opportunity to find what it is that sets your soul on fucking fire. I did. I loved writing, and now I do it for a living. Now you need to go do that with your art. You need to go to that college and soak up absolutely everything.”
“I could go to school here,” he offered weakly.
“No, you can’t. You’ve missed the enrolment period; you’d have to wait another year.”
“Then I’ll do that!”
“No. If you wait another year, you won’t go, you know you won’t. You’d get settled here with me and Jamie. You’d find some shitty office job and never leave. Time will pass, and you’ll have missed this window. You worked for New York, the one thing that kept you going when you had nothing.” He cupped Mattie’s face. “You achieved that, Mattie. And I am so fucking proud of you.” He swallowed hard. “I told you I wouldn’t let you slip through the cracks, and that’s what I’m doing.”
“Don’t I get a say in this?” Mattie pulled one of Simon’s hands away from his face and cradled it in his own.
The corner of Simon’s mouth lifted up in a sad smile. “No. Sorry.”
“What would this mean for us? I mean….” He sniffed, looking at their hands. “Are you talking about a long distance thing here, or…?” He trailed off, unwilling to say the words.
“I gave it some thought, and… and I guess the best thing to do would be to—to just—”
“Don’t,” Mattie whispered, closing his eyes and shaking his head no.
“Mattie, three years is a long time. It’s just going to make it more painful to drag this out. You’ll be meeting new people and—”
“Oh, you asshole.” Mattie laughed sadly. “We both know how deeply I’m invested here. Don’t even pretend that I could—”
“Okay, okay,” Simon interrupted him, even if he did think he had a valid point.
“I, um.” Mattie pressed his lips together in a tight line, swallowing hard. “I suppose you’re thinking that it’d be better for Jamie if we didn’t try and keep this going… that it might confuse him.”
“That is something I have to consider,” Simon murmured sadly.
Mattie nodded yes, then let out a harsh breath and shook his head no. “Simon, what we’ve got here? Comes around once in a lifetime. I can’t just….” He choked up. “I can’t just not have you in my life. I can’t!”
“Okay, okay. It’s all right, hey now…,” he comforted, scooting closer in his seat and pulling Mattie into his arms. He pulled back quickly to avoid knocking heads when Mattie sat up.
“Come to New York!”
“Mattie,” he groaned.
“You can write anywhere!”
“I can’t do that to Jamie.”
Mattie’s shoulders sagged in disappointment, and in that moment Simon truly hated himself. He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t do it to him, I can’t pull him out of school and away from the few people he’s comfortable with. Not when he’s only five….”
Mattie nodded. “I wasn’t thinking. Shit.” Mattie covered his eyes with one hand, his head bowed. “Ah, shit,” he repeated, his words garbled this time with tears.
Simon leaned close, stroking a hand over Mattie’s hair and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. He closed his eyes tight. This was horrible, this was absolutely fucking terrible. He let out a deep sigh, whispering to himself. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Simon sat up straight, his hand thumping down on kitchen table. “Fuck. Fuck it!” H
e stood and walked over to the kitchen cabinets and drawers, rummaging through them. “Where are they?” he muttered to himself.
“What are you doing?”
“Where are—ah!” He strode back over to the kitchen table, sat back down, and held out a stack of postcards he’d purchased absolutely months ago when looking for inspiration.
Mattie took them, frowning. “Postcards?”
“So this is what it comes down to, right? You’re going to New York. I can’t go with you. To keep up a long distance relationship isn’t feasible with what it would cost you to travel here and me being unable to leave Jamie, not to mention how torturous Skyping would be—”
“Simon!”
Simon shook his head, turned Mattie’s hand palm upward, and placed the stack of postcards in his hand. “This isn’t a normal breakup, where something has gone irrevocably wrong. Nobody fell out of love here. And you know what? You’re right. This is a once-in-a-lifetime relationship we have here, so… so maybe….”
“Christ. Like I always say, you’re either too wordy or you can’t speak at all,” Mattie managed in a watery laugh.
Simon placed his hand on top of the stack of postcards held together by a red rubber band. “Why don’t we think of this as your time to go find yourself, before you make your way back to me?”
Mattie’s brows rose together sadly. “Why the postcards?”
“I don’t want you to call me. I don’t want you to e-mail me. I want you to focus 100 percent on you and your art for the next three years, all with the knowledge that I’m still here in San Diego, missing you, still loving you, and waiting patiently for you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know you think that your feelings aren’t going to change.” He spoke softly, squeezing Mattie’s hand when he knew the younger man would protest. “But you don’t know… you’ve no idea what might be ahead of you, and I am not going to stand in the way of that. So, you are going to take these with you, and when you find somewhere to live, you’re going to send me one with a return address, and that’s it.”
The Coil Page 27