“Oh. Um, sure. Let’s go into my office.”
I followed him in, my stomach in my throat.
Walter’s office was a tiny cubicle stuffed with paper piles on every surface, but it did have a door that closed.
“Listen,” I said as soon as the door clicked shut and before I could lose my nerve, “I want to talk about what’s happening with us.”
His eyebrows drew together. “What do you mean?”
“Mean? What do you think I mean? We found each other again!”
He goggled at me.
“Right?” I prompted.
“Um… right.”
“And it’s been like a dream come true!” I didn’t wait for him to agree to that. “But we need to talk about the future and the fact that we live a thousand miles apart.”
“About seventeen hundred, actually.”
“Even worse!” I started to pace back and forth on the miniscule floor space. “So help me out here, doll. You’re the one who figures things out. How are we going to make this work? We both have lives and jobs, and you have all these businesses to run, and I have the foundation, and….” I made the mistake of looking at him, and his trapped-animal expression made me stop in my tracks. “Hold on. Am I making a big fool of myself here? Do you even want to be having this conversation?” I waited a nanosecond, then burst out, “Say something, won’t you?”
Pause. Lengthy fucking pause, during which I died a thousand deaths. “I’m not sure what you want me to say.”
“Jeez! It’s not what I want you to say, it’s whatever you’re thinking about this… about us. You’ve been acting strange ever since the hurricane. Are you—do you want… um….” My momentum died. Oh God. The man hadn’t even been considering having a future. Sophia was wrong, and this was beyond humiliating. “You know what? Forget it.” I left his office and stumbled to the front door, barely able to see through the haze of my emotions.
“Anthony. Stop!”
That commanding voice made me pause, but I shook it off and kept going. Sunlight bounced off the cars in the parking lot, and I stood, my eyes momentarily dazzled, trying to remember where I’d put the rental. Then I remembered I hadn’t driven. I felt a hand on my arm.
“What do you want?” I asked haughtily, keeping my gaze away from him and the hangdog expression I was sure was blighting his handsome face.
“You didn’t give me a chance to talk to you. You… you know it takes me time to say what’s on my mind.”
That was true. I wanted to be patient. I wanted to be my best Anthony self, the one I became when Walter’s goodness and steadiness calmed me down. But my insecurities were laughing and sticking their tongue out at me for being a fool. I crossed my arms and stared at a palm tree. “So? What is on your mind, sweetums? If you would be good enough to spit it out.” Being devastated tended to bring out my peak snottiness. Unfortunately, this trait seemed to be making Walter even more tongue-tied.
“I… I don’t know… um, why….”
“Why what?” I snarled. I heard him heave a sigh.
“Why you want to keep going with this. You’re better off without me.”
Oh, for Lordy be, not this again! I raised my eyes to the heavens, beseeching the gods to tell me why I had to love someone with even worse self-esteem issues than I had even on my most tragic hair days. Perversely, I felt better knowing Walter’s problem wasn’t with me but with himself. I took a deep breath, willing myself to calm down, and turned to him.
“I thought we’d gotten beyond that,” I said softly. “I understand you now. You’re afraid you’ll hurt me because of the past. But that’s all behind us. Right?”
He gave a miserable, slow shake of his head, then cleared his throat. “I… I need more time. I’m not sure I… can you give me time to… to….”
“To what?” Something snapped inside, and I grabbed his arms as the serpent of mistrust slithered up my throat and spat out words. “Time to realize you can’t do it again? Stop being a coward! No, I’m not giving you a shred more time. Decide right now, or I’m walking away forever.”
Ultimatums were stupid, and insults never worked. I should have remembered that. I was majorly blowing this, but I couldn’t seem to stop being my worst Anthony self instead of my best.
A change came over Walter. His face got even more serious, and he disengaged his arms from my clutches. “Then I can’t. I’m sorry, Anthony. This isn’t happening.”
“But….” And in a replay from the past, I switched to craven pleading. “But you said I was the only one for you! We… after we made love the first time, you told me that. We found each other again! We’re… we complete each other! Don’t throw it away now.” He averted his gaze with a stubborn tilt to his head. I changed tactics. “So what was this? A vacation fling? It didn’t mean anything to you?”
The poor man looked in actual pain. “You know it did.” He stared at the pavement, and his next words were a mumble. “It meant… everything.”
“Well, then? What’re you gonna do—let it go ’cause you’re ‘not good’ for me? That’s such bullshit, Walter!” He flinched, and I softened my voice. “Why do you think I’ve never been in a serious relationship since us?” My voice rose in spite of myself. “Because of you!”
But even as I ranted, I knew it was hopeless. And I knew with a sickening sense of self-loathing that I’d done it to myself again. I’d let myself fall in love with Walter Frigging Elkins, and here I was getting dumped like a cold, lumpy potato. Again. Damn him! Damn him to hell.
Patricia and Sophia happened to arrive right then, which reminded me that they’d scheduled a final sunset snorkeling cruise and I’d hoped, fool that I was, that Walter and I would be going with them. I walked away from Walter without another word and intercepted the girls after they piled out of the car.
“Tony! Are you and Walter going to go on the cruise?” Sophia was heartbreakingly lovely in her crimson one-piece bathing suit with the sarong skirt I’d picked out for her on our shopping trip yesterday. Her face glowed with hope but quickly clouded over, no doubt at the sick expression I must have been wearing. Walter too, though I couldn’t confirm that because I was through looking at him. “What happened?” she whispered.
“Nothing.” I smiled at Patricia. “Hey, doll, could I borrow your car to get back to the condo? I have oodles of packing to do. I’ll pick you gals up when you get back to shore, mmkay?”
“Sure.” She tossed me the keys.
I, of course, missed the catch. After retrieving the keys from the ground with as much dignity as I could muster, I saluted her. “Have fun!” I got in the car and would have roared out of the parking lot had I been able to figure out how to turn the damn thing on. But a glance told me Walter had already gone back inside, so I didn’t need to make a final statement.
And that’s how the grand second-chance love affair of Walter and me ended… with me limping away from his dive shop in a borrowed Camry.
PART TWO
Chapter ONE
I BOARDED the plane for Boston determined to put the whole Key West fiasco out of my mind. I had my work and the foundation to keep me busy. I checked out the twinky flight attendant, who was eyeing me right back. Hmm. And a few delicious hookups couldn’t hurt. Then I sighed. Only thing was, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Sophia and I had talked over the whole Walter situation the night before, and she had failed to convince me that the relationship could be salvaged. I was kicking myself for going to the dive shop after Walter had basically told me to go away. Why had I opened myself up for more rejection? Why had I even allowed myself to fall for him again after knowing what he’d done to me the first time?
Stop, Anthony. Stop with the “fall for him again.” You never stopped loving him. I stared out the window at endless clouds. I’d thought we were going to be okay after Walter had told me about the tragedies in his past. His revelations had helped me understand his reason for leaving a
nd had cleared the path for our new future. Or so I’d believed. It killed me that he was still stuck on the past and not willing to give us our second chance, even after he’d held me and loved me and told me such wonderful things.
Never again, I vowed to myself. Love hurt like a motherfucker. Twice burned was two times too much. Time to get back to business. I needed a massage and a trip to the salon to get a cut and highlights. And then a good fuck with a hot man. With those bold goals determined, I settled the sleep mask over my eyes and prepared to snooze.
When I got home, Jonathan commiserated with me for a few days, supplying me with alcohol and calling Walter awful names. Too soon, though, he joined Sophia’s chorus about how he couldn’t believe it was truly over between me and Walter. He held fast to his conviction that Walter and I were destined and would end up together just as he and Marco had. As he told me not to despair, I wished I’d never prattled on to him about fairy-tale endings. Yes, his and Marco’s had happened, but I was sure mine never would. Not now. I finally told him I didn’t want to talk about it anymore, and asked him not to say anything else to Marco. I was humiliated enough as it was.
My birthday party took place one week later. I turned thirty with fifty of my closest friends in a posh club that Marco and Jonathan had reserved. The booze flowed, the food was exquisite, and there were more hot men on tap than ever, not including the go-go dancers that Sophia had booked. I’d been too busy for hookups since I’d been back to town, but tonight was my night. I got my choice because I was the birthday boy!
So how was it that I walked into my apartment at three in the morning, mostly sober and completely alone? I kicked off my shoes and opened the refrigerator but didn’t even see the contents as I stared in blankly. My cold nose informed me to close the door. A part of me had been hoping that I’d hear from Walter today—a card, a call, or at least a text like the one Miles had sent. Nothing had come from him. And that had killed my last wistful prayer that Walter and I had any chance in hell of getting together.
Still, I didn’t need to be all alone on my birthday. What had happened to Anthony the Player? Why was I starting my thirties with only my houseplants to keep me company? I’d been hit on by any number of guys and could have had my pick of blowjobs in the bathroom or hookups at my place or theirs. The sheer number of offers said my attractiveness hadn’t waned. But what had waned was any kind of desire.
At the thought of desire, I remembered being in Walter’s bed as he held me down, out of my mind with want, his cock nudging my entrance. God. Now my traitorous prick was filling. With no one to help me take care of it.
And I realized with a dull throbbing in my chest that I didn’t want anyone to take care of it—or me—but Walter. And Walter was gone, lost to me for the second time, and this time forever. That’s when I sank to the floor of my kitchen, drew up my knees, put my head down, and cried.
Chapter TWO
WALTER WALKED onto the houseboat deck and pushed open the door. The apartment was full of bad memories of him telling Anthony to go away, whereas the houseboat…. He stopped at the sight of the alcove curtain, throat aching, assaulted by a vivid picture of Anthony and him on his bed, entwined and kissing. Tearing his eyes away, he went to the galley and pulled a bottle of Jameson from the cupboard. Walter wasn’t generally much of a drinker, but lately his nightly trips to the bottle were all that kept him from staring into the dark until the sun rose.
I should go up there. Go after him. Even as he thought it, he knew he’d never do it. Boston was out of bounds, and had been for a long time. Even if Anthony was there. Walter poured some whiskey into a coffee mug and knocked back a slug. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, letting the burn of the liquor give him a semblance of feeling alive.
So call him. Ask him to come here. Yesterday had been Anthony’s thirtieth birthday. Walter had wrestled with the urge to phone or at least send a text—if not a card, a big bouquet of flowers, or his heart on a platter—but he hadn’t. He’d done the same nothing he’d been doing since Anthony had walked away from him a week ago.
He took another slug, poured more Jameson, then strolled into the living room. His eyes fell on the conch shell—the one Anthony had picked up when Walter had brought him to the houseboat. Anthony had been pleased by Walter’s story of the shell representing a fresh start. That the shell had been waiting on the beach to encourage Walter in his Key West adventure sounded way too flaky to his scientist side. But the fact remained that deviating from his original path in life had been totally unpredictable. To pick up stakes, move to another state, and embark on a totally different career? Walter wasn’t the type. And yet he’d done it.
The shell sat there accusing him of cowardice, its gleaming pink curves telling him he’d done it once before, surely he could do it again. He could pick up and move to where Anthony was, and take his chances on that whole new life.
Walter pressed his lips together, then pried them open for another dose of the alcohol. Damn it, why couldn’t he man up and risk being with Anthony? Because, said his internal voice, you’d be putting him at risk too, just like you did before. Just like you did to Roland. And Adrian. You always hurt the ones you love. And then another voice piped up. You’re protecting him from being hurt? What do you think you’re doing to him right now?
Walter went back for the bottle and took it out on the deck, where he settled into his usual chair for star- and water-gazing. It was going to be another long night.
Chapter THREE
December 2016
“THANKS, EVERYONE. You’re doing wonderful work. I’m inspired!” Marco gave the assembled staff one of his blinding smiles. But this one wasn’t put on to charm—it was more a shit-eating grin, the kind that slipped out when he was so pleased he couldn’t help himself. We all laughed with the delight we felt when we made Marco smile like that.
Jonathan flashed his own adoring smile at Marco, then turned to all of us. “I love you guys. You’re the reason my life is great, along with the lives of our kids. Thank you for stepping up and providing them with safety and security and love, particularly during these times.”
My smile slipped a bit, thinking of the Orange Cheeto who was due to inhabit the White House. He and his creepy VP would love nothing more than to strip away our rights as LGBTQ people.
The staff of the Pellegrini-Vallen Foundation dispersed, off to do great things in the world. I missed Sophia—she’d gone back to New York for the time being because Lambda Legal needed her there, what with the assault on LGBTQ protections that was threatening to happen.
“How’s it going, Tony?” Jonathan put his hand on my shoulder and peered at me like he wanted to read all my secrets.
“Peachy-keen, doll!”
Hmm, not one of my more convincing performances. He continued to hover, and now along came the man himself, Marco, to add to the torture.
“Antonio, how are you? We haven’t seen you much lately.”
“Doing awesome, my dear! Just a little busy at work.”
The lies flowed effortlessly off my silver tongue. The truth was, work was slow as a tomb and I was doing horribly. It had been two months now since I’d come home from Key West. All that had happened was a heartbreaking election and the terrifying consequences that loomed on the horizon.
Two months, and I’d heard nothing from Walter. I hadn’t expected to. But he was on my mind every moment of every day. My damn life felt crowded with Walter, with the absence of Walter, with the memories of Walter.
Shit. When Jonathan squeezed my shoulder, I realized the tears in my eyes had begun to drip down my face.
“Let’s go talk.” Jonny’s voice was even gentler than usual—which was saying a lot—and I allowed myself to be steered into his and Marco’s office. Their two desks faced each other, all cozy, and the togetherness they implied prompted a fresh bout of tears.
Marco followed us in and shut the door. Then he closed the gap between us and surprised the hell out of me by engulfi
ng me in a firm hug. Oh my word, I was getting his designer sweater all wet, but something about his comforting strong embrace had unleashed the waterworks. Plus he smelled divine.
He just held on until my sobs had subsided, then stepped back, and Jonny pressed a wad of Kleenex into my hand. “Let’s sit down.” Jonny guided me to the comfy couch that nestled in the corner.
I settled between them, sniffling into my tissues while they waited for me to say something. But what to say? My life was hopeless. I was no longer a player, so I didn’t even have sex to give me momentary comfort. Things really weren’t great at work, either. We’d lost some major contracts, and the threat of layoffs plagued us every day. And Walter… well, that was hopeless too, but instead of accepting that and moving on, my stupid heart kept aching and I couldn’t seem to forget him.
“Okay—” Marco began, but Jonathan put a hand on his arm and he immediately subsided.
“Tony, tell us what’s been going on with you and Walter.” Jonny’s eyes were especially blue today as they beamed caring and concern at me.
I felt trapped. Why was it so hard to talk about this? I wanted to lie and blab about something else, make jokes, suggest we get lunch at that new place up the street—anything but talk about me and Walter Elkins. Because what was there to say? I fell for him. Again. He dumped me. Again. End of story.
“Nothing’s been going on. You know that. That’s history.”
“Have you been talking to each other? Or texting, at least?”
“No, and no.”
“Hmm,” Marco commented, mildly for him. I prepared for a lecture, but he surprised me. “First off, tell me this. Did Walter ever apologize for his past behavior? Because if not, then he isn’t good enough for you.”
“Oh, he apologized. More than once. I followed your advice there and didn’t let things go further until we talked about all that. But….” I gave a helpless shrug.
In Over Our Heads Page 18