by K. C. Wells
“Hey, I saw you about to take off. I’m going for a run too, so we may as well go together.” Sean gave me a devilish smile. The kind of smile that usually meant trouble, although I didn’t see what harm him joining me would do. Besides, unlike Aaron, I don’t talk much when I run, and the company was nice.
Well, maybe not. Sean wanted to talk. And he wasn’t really capable of running and talking, which meant he was panting and running or we were jogging really slowly. Not what I had in mind.
Sean is older than me by a year. He’s technically my stepbrother. My mom married his dad when I was five and my sister, Shelly, was seven. Our twin sisters, Sarah and Samantha, were born a couple years later. Sean and I have always been tight. He was the one who always got into trouble, and I was usually stupid enough to follow. He’d always possessed boundless energy and enthusiasm. Sean was an avid outdoorsman, and like myself, a lover of all sports. He was one of those people who was constantly in motion and always talking. The only thing was, he wasn’t much of a runner.
As we slowly started down our street, it started. He chattered about everything from the weather (cold as a witch’s tit) to our cousin Jessica’s baby announcement during Thanksgiving dinner (awkward, and will she ever marry that bum?) to how the Steelers should crush it again this year. Mostly I listened. Sean didn’t usually require response. He just liked an audience. Which was why I missed his question until he literally stopped midrun in exasperation. I turned back, jogging in place, and asked what was up.
“I asked you a question, moron. What is up with you? You’re being weird.”
I sighed and inclined my head, indicating I would talk if he would run. He gave an even bigger sigh and jogged to catch up.
“I’m probably going to break things off with Kristin.” It was really the only safe explanation I had for my distractedness. I should have known he wouldn’t buy it.
“So? Come on, man. It’s pretty obvious that she isn’t the one. Don’t tell me she’s breaking out the wedding magazines?”
“Well, not exactly. But there’s been wedding talk because some friends are tying the knot. It’s not that, though. I just… I don’t know. I feel like I’m being unfair to her. I’m not that into it, and I guess I just need to make a clean break.” I paused for a couple minutes, during which Sean was remarkably silent. “I forgot to call her on Thanksgiving. I actually didn’t think about it until the next day, and I felt terrible. When I did call she was a little hurt but was understanding. She said she got that I was busy with all the family over, yada yada…. And that’s another thing, I guess. She never gets angry and doesn’t really have any expectations of me. Which, yeah, that’s great… except I get the feeling you’re supposed to have those expectations about someone you care about. Like you’d be mortally offended if your significant other didn’t respect you enough to think of you on a major holiday.”
I wasn’t going to mention who I did think of all day. I actually had sent him a text too. My first attempt at communication in a couple weeks. He returned the simple “Happy Thanksgiving” from me with a smile face emoticon and “Happy Turkey Day, Matty.” It was funny how that silly exchange had me smiling for the rest of the day. I was able to forget for a while that I needed to deal with Kristin when I got back to DC, and deal with myself. Was I bi? Probably. Or just gay for Aaron? And even if I acknowledged the bi part, to myself at least, was I ready to pursue a relationship with a man? No one who knew me had the slightest idea I was attracted to men. This would be more involved than I was able to comprehend at the moment.
“Wow. You really are an asshole.” Sean shook me out of my inner reverie. “You don’t call her on Thanksgiving and then don’t like that she wasn’t really pissed at you when you finally remember her the next fucking day. I thought I was the one with the heartbreaker rep. Turns out it’s Saint Matthew breaking the girls’ hearts.”
“Fuck off. I’m just trying to tell you that I acknowledge I was a dick. I’m not who I want to be or who I should be with Kristin. We both deserve something or someone else. Maybe I just need to concentrate on finishing my degree and working at the law firm right now. Relationships are too taxing. Ya know?”
Sean gave me an appraising look, though to his credit, he didn’t stop jogging.
“You’re full of shit. I’m your brother. I know you. Who is she? I know there’s someone else. I saw your face on Thanksgiving when you got that text message.” I gave him an incredulous look. “What? I can put two and two together. Lower the sound on your ringer, man. Basically you advertised that you were getting a text, you read it, and then got all moony. You went from being all quiet and moody to life of the party…. Slight exaggeration, maybe, but I know you. Something else is going on too.” He looked at me, expecting some big explanation. He rolled his eyes at me when he realized I wasn’t sharing.
“Hey, Matt? Seriously, though. Just be happy. Kristin is a nice girl, but you’re right. You need something different. If your secret texter is what you need, go for it. You deserve to be happy.” This was a surprise. I didn’t say anything right away as I half-wondered what Sean would say if he knew who my “secret texter” was.
“So, if you’re done with her, can I give her a call?” Okay, so maybe I wasn’t surprised. “I’ll wait an appropriate amount of time. What should it be? Maybe a week or two?” He ruined his request with the stupid grin, letting me know he was after my reaction and not my soon-to-be ex-girlfriend.
“Now who’s the asshole?” I picked up my pace, but Sean kept up with me.
“You’re a prick.”
“I know you are but what am I?” And on it went.
We were both sweaty and gross when we finally got back to the house. Sean wanted to challenge me to a game of horse at the old basketball hoop in our driveway. It was a game we’d played together for the nineteen years we’d been saddled with each other through our parents’ marriage. It was a great way to restore my equilibrium. I was suddenly very thankful for my family. Somehow I felt a little more prepared to deal with the real world.
DEALING with the real world was overrated. I was slammed with memos and papers to write at school. Finals were around the corner. Plus there was a big case one of the lawyers at the firm was working on and I was given the daunting task of research, which meant hours poring through law journals. It was easy to stay in full denial with my current workload. I dodged calls from Kristin and made a point of returning her calls when I knew she was in class. My brother was right… I was an asshole. It was eating me up, though. I knew I would have to talk to Kristin. Avoidance would only work for so long.
The following Friday morning, my cell rang very loudly at an ungodly hour. Sean was right, I needed to turn the ringer down. Because I was startled out of sleep, I didn’t check to see who the caller was. It was Kristin. I was groggy with sleep, and I struggled to figure out what my approach should be. I hadn’t formulated a plan, and 6:00 a.m. on any given day wasn’t the best time to begin. As luck would have it, I got another reprieve. She was calling to remind me that she would be at a bachelorette party that weekend but was really hoping we could grab a bite to eat or something Sunday night. Of course I agreed. That gave me a two-day reprieve. Until she dropped the other reminder.
I’d really only been half-listening but tuned in when she repeated her questions.
“You remember the wedding is next weekend, right? Matt? Hello?”
“Uh, yeah. Next Saturday. Got it.” Smooth one, Matt. Now what do I do? End this Sunday or wait until after her friend’s wedding, which I’d promised I’d go to months ago, to break up? I couldn’t seem to win here.
“Did you get your tux cleaned? I can take it for you if you want. I know you’ve been so busy lately.” She paused when I didn’t answer. “I really miss you, Matt. It feels like forever since we’ve been able to spend any time together.”
Kristin’s voice was almost a whisper. She sounded sad. And worse yet, she sounded 100 percent sincere. Fuck.
“
I know. Dinner Sunday sounds good.” That was the best I could manage. When she agreed and we set a time for me to pick her up, I noticed she once again didn’t seem bothered by any lack of real emotion from me.
I turned off my phone for the rest of the day and concentrated on writing my papers for school. I had a pretty decent night’s sleep and woke up feeling refreshed. I was also dying for some outdoor exercise. I thought of Aaron, as I did many times during any given day lately, as I laced up my running shoes. Where did he run? Maybe I’d see him? I purposefully hadn’t called or sent him a text since Thanksgiving. I wouldn’t let myself until I’d broken up with Kristin.
MONTROSE PARK was one of Georgetown’s best-kept secrets. It was part of the much larger Rock Creek Park, but it was not nearly as well known, which meant it was a great place for a quiet run relatively close by. In early December, most of the leaves had long since fallen. It was like a scenic wonderland in the middle of the nation’s capital. I hadn’t run in the park in a while, and I found myself looking forward to the peaceful atmosphere.
I had a full day of writing ahead of me, so I knew my run couldn’t be too long. I put my ear buds in, turned my music on, and jogged up Thirty-First Street toward the park. It felt invigorating and relaxing at the same time. I had decided I needed to do this more often when I noticed a familiar form jogging out of the Montrose Park main entry. I was fairly certain it was Aaron. He was with another man. Maybe his friend Jay? I didn’t think so, though. This guy looked older than Aaron by at least ten years. He was definitely fit, but he was shaved bald and had a Mr. Clean muscular physique. Was Aaron seeing this guy? He said he didn’t have a boyfriend, but of course that didn’t mean he didn’t go out with other men. Or maybe they’d just met and were a new item.
Aaron was dressed in tight black running pants and a black pullover with neon-green trim. His running shoes matched his jacket, which made me smile. He looked good. He didn’t seem winded at all, but his running partner looked a little sweaty. They had probably just finished a run in the park, and I guessed they were heading back toward the bridge.
I was overcome with curiosity. I kept my pace but adjusted my path to follow Aaron and his friend as discreetly as possible. If he saw me, I would feign surprise. Geez, now I was stalking. Was there no end to my idiocy?
They kept a steady pace down R Street toward the river, but then turned right onto Cambridge Place. I really couldn’t follow down this street without them noticing. It was a quiet residential street and it was still early morning. I would definitely be in more danger of Aaron noticing me. Plus feigning surprise at running into him most likely wouldn’t be believable. I was about to retrace my path back toward the park, as I had originally intended, when Aaron’s running partner stopped suddenly and Aaron came to a halt beside him. The older man gave a quick glance up and down the mostly deserted street before wrapping his hand around Aaron’s neck and drawing him in for a quick but passionate kiss. Aaron smiled when the man pulled away, then turned to jog up the street, leaving his partner to follow him.
I felt sick to my stomach, like I’d been punched straight on with no warning and no protection. Ridiculous, I know. I had no claims to Aaron whatsoever. If anything, I was just a creepy stalking voyeur. Chastising myself didn’t help me regain my calm, however. Truthfully, I felt betrayed too. Unreasonable, I know that, but I realized then and there, as I pushed myself running much faster than my normal pace, that I wanted him. I didn’t want to share him either. Since when does anyone get what he wants without working for it? I needed to figure out a plan.
Simply put, I wanted Aaron. This would suggest I was a bisexual man and not the heterosexual one my family, friends, and even acquaintances knew me to be. Whether or not Aaron would be interested in something more with me was still an unknown, but I could no longer deny that this feeling wasn’t going away anytime soon. My reaction to seeing him with another guy told me this loud and clear.
Back at home I could barely concentrate on writing the paper, and I’d used my workload to beg off from hanging out with my friends. They could tell something was up with me, but they left me alone. Each one of us had gone through the staggering stress of law school, work, and relationship bullshit. They probably sensed, correctly, that it was my turn. When I found myself in complete textbook overload, I picked up my guitar. Playing always calmed my nerves.
By the next day, I had gained a little perspective. I knew the first thing I had to do was be honest with Kristin and break things off. If she wanted me to go to the wedding still, I would. I had always considered Kristin a friend, and if possible, I wanted us to remain so. The next step was for me to concentrate on finals, work, and getting through the holidays. I wouldn’t try to contact Aaron until my finals were complete, thinking I could use the extra time to work out how I could approach him without sounding weird or desperate. This was new territory for me. For the first time ever, I wanted to pursue a man romantically.
I arrived to pick up Kristin at her place later that night for dinner. She opened her door wearing a giant smile and little else. I audibly gulped, I’m sure. She probably figured my reaction to be the opposite of what it truly was. Fuck. This was not going to be easy.
“Hi, gorgeous,” she purred. Not kidding, she sounded like a sex kitten. This was not Kristin. Nor was the getup. She was wearing a one-piece sexy black lacy number that pushed up her small breasts, giving them a rounded effect at the top. She had never once worn lingerie in the year we’d been dating. Something was up. The funny thing was that it wasn’t my cock. If I was having any second thoughts, seeing the usually conservative Kristin in a skimpy getup should have gotten the blood pumping. Instead, I was painfully uncomfortable with how I could now see the direction this evening was headed. Especially once I got a view of the table carefully set for two behind her, laid with her grandmother’s crystal wine glasses and china. Soft jazz music was playing from her speakers, setting a scene for seduction. Crap.
“Uh, wow, um, what’s all this?” I asked lamely as she flung herself at me, wrapping her small body around me. Her long honey-blonde hair was in my face, and I could smell the body oils and perfumes she must have recently applied.
“I’ve missed you, silly goose. Matt, we haven’t seen each other in forever. I really, really missed you.” The way she was grinding her body on me left no mistaking what she missed. I gently pulled out of her grasp and walked toward the table set with candlelight and roses. My head was pounding, and I was about as far from hungry as a guy could be without hanging over a porcelain bowl.
“Um, didn’t you want to go out for dinner?” My voice was weak and it was possible she didn’t even hear me.
“Well,” she said, coming to stand beside me at the table. She sounded a little cooler this time, maybe cluing in to my tepid response. “My roommates are out, and I thought we could take advantage of having the place to ourselves tonight.” She turned on a huskier-sounding tone than I was used to hearing from her. “We can play and then have dinner later. I’ll even serve you dinner in bed if you get hungry for food.”
I couldn’t speak or move. And when an uncomfortable minute of silence passed, she backed away from me and went into her bedroom. Shit, did she expect me to follow? I really didn’t think so. I knew that I could forget the whole thing by following her into her room and taking advantage of what she was so blatantly offering. Instead, I let the moment pass and gave her a weak smile when she came out covered in an old terrycloth bathrobe. She didn’t return the smile.
“What’s going on, Matt?” she asked coolly. She took a seat on the white slipcovered sofa, curling her legs underneath her body and hugging one of her bright floral pillows to her chest.
I took a deep breath. And then another to see if it would help, but it didn’t. I moved toward her and perched myself on the armchair across from her, still unable to look at her. I hated hurting her. I wished I could love her so none of this was necessary. But I didn’t love her. It wasn’t fair to keep up eve
n a casual dating thing with her when my thoughts were constantly with someone else. Pretending everything was cool wasn’t working.
“I’m sorry.”
Kristin gasped. I looked up at her finally. Her eyes were huge and wet with unshed tears. I felt about two feet tall.
I tried again. “I’m sorry, Kristin. I can’t… I’m not…. Look, it’s not….”
“Are you really going to say it’s not you, it’s me? Oh my God. I can’t believe what a fucking idiot I am. I’m so embarrassed. Look at me. Just go… please, Matt. Please.” She was crying in earnest now.
Instinctively I went to her side. She let me hold her for a couple seconds before pushing me away.
“Did you meet someone else? Is that it? Or is it the wedding? You don’t have to go with me.” Her anger was quickly taking a strange turn, and I knew I needed to say what I had to say and retreat. I couldn’t make this right any other way. I was hurting someone I cared about, and it just couldn’t be helped.
“Kristin, as lame as it sounds, it isn’t you, it is me. I’m sorry. You deserve something I’m not. I really care for you. You are amazing. But honestly, I mean, look at the last few months… I’m way too wound up with school and work. I just can’t be a good boyfriend to you. I can’t do this. I don’t want to hurt you. I want us to be friends, if you’re okay with it. But I don’t… I don’t want the couple part.” I was rambling, but she was listening, which I took as a positive sign. “I am sorry.”
The silence was heavy, like wearing a winter coat in July.
“Can you go, please? I just need you to leave.” Tears were running down her face. I wanted to help, but I’d caused this. She was right, I should leave.
I stood up slowly and let myself out. I wondered if I’d feel lighter now that it was done. I didn’t. The guilt was crushing.