Tied Together

by Z. B Heller

  “Tom, what are you doing here?” I said while looking past him to see if the ass licker he cheated on me with was with him. But it looked like he was alone.

  “It is a free world, you know.” He smirked and wiggled his eyebrows at me. Ugh, I hated when he did that. How did I spend two years of my life with this man?

  “Yeah, I suppose it is. If you’ll excuse me.” I tried to walk past him, but he quickly moved in front of me again.

  “I was looking for you and thought you’d be here.”

  My brow furrowed, and I narrowed my eyes at him. “How could you possibly know that I would be here? It’s not as if I come here every day.”

  Tom shifted left and right, and his jaw started to twitch.

  “Are you following me?” I asked, my voice quiet.

  “Look, I think we just need to talk.”

  I broke out it to a cynical laugh. “Talk? Now you want to talk? Don’t you think that maybe we should have”—I used finger quotes—”talked before you decided to plunge you dick down someone else’s rabbit hole?”

  “You’re right, we should have. But God, Ryan, I miss you.”

  “You have got to be kidding me.” I threw my hands up in the air. “Tom, you are the most conceited, selfish asshole. If one thing didn’t go your way, you bitched like a baby until you finally got your mouth back on the teat. You never cared about anyone’s feelings but your own, not to mention the fact that you were an OCD Hitler to live with.” I could feel my nails digging into the palm of my balled fist.

  “I’ve changed; I swear it. I started seeing a therapist after we broke up. Let me prove it to you,” There was an ounce of genuineness in is voice, but I wasn’t buying it.

  “Tom, I’ve waited for the man I am ridiculously in love with to finally come back into my life. It’s a love that has spanned over fifteen years, and I only pray it’s a hundred more. Even if I were left on the last boat of the Titanic with you and porn star Ron Jeremy, you’d better learn how to fucking swim.” I tried to walk around him once again, thinking that I had made my point, but I was wrong.

  Tom threw himself at me. He tried desperately to devour my mouth in a kiss, and he held me so tight that I could barely move. I twisted so my hands fell flat against his chest, and I shoved him back as hard as I could.

  “Fuck!”

  I heard a shout, but it hadn’t come from me or Tom. I turned my head to the right and saw Brandon standing there, breathing hard from his run.

  “No, no, no!” I ran toward him, but he backed off.

  “Don’t touch me,” he hissed.

  “It’s not what it looks like.” I tried to grab his arm, but he kept pulling away.

  “Really?” he asked. “It doesn’t look like you’re kissing another fucking guy?”

  “No, I mean, he was kissing me.”

  “Seems to me you liked it just as much. In fact, you didn’t have complaints all those times in bed.” Tom’s voice was sickly sweet.

  “No!” I roared. I wanted to rearrange Tom’s face for taking everything out of context, but I didn’t want to leave Brandon’s side. I looked back at Brandon, who stood stone still.

  “Brandon, listen to me—”

  But he cut me off. “You haven’t changed. You’re still the same person I walked away from all those years ago.”

  “Brandon, just listen.”

  “I’m going to the hospital to shower and get work done. I expect your stuff to be out of my place and the key left by the door.”

  “No, Brandon, don’t leave. I didn’t cheat, I swear,” I begged for him to listen. My voice cracked in desperation, and I wanted nothing more than for the whole world to stop so I could make this man, the man I desperately and hopelessly loved, to listen to me. But it was too late. Brandon broke into a run down the sidewalk.

  The blood in my veins went cold as the loss. How could everything be so perfect one minute and completely destroyed the next? I felt lightheaded and knelt down on the concrete.

  “Well, that was unfortunate,” said the man who’d just destroyed my life. “Since we’re here, do you want to grab a cup of coffee?”

  Tom looked proud and smug. Rage took over the emptiness that had possessed me. I stood up, balled my fist, and threw a punch straight into Tom’s face.

  I walked into the office around seven o’clock. I hadn’t been able to sleep, so I’d gotten up and run a few miles before making the drive into work. I thought by working out some of the anxiety I had would help clear my head, but it didn’t even come close. I clutched my coffee in one hand and my briefcase in the other. The office was empty and blissfully quiet. Usually Julie, the office manager, was the first one here, but I just couldn’t stay at home another minute.

  Everywhere I looked around my apartment made me think of Ryan. The couch, where we had cuddled, watching Games of Thrones. The kitchen, where Ryan and I had a food fight because he wouldn’t try my kale smoothie. My bedroom was especially painful because he wasn’t there with me, our bodies entangled. I thought about lying on top of his hard back, rocking into him as he clutched my sheets and begged for more, harder, and deeper.

  Then I thought about seeing Ryan in his ex-boyfriend’s arms, their lips fused together like they were coated with super glue. I thought I was strong and had moved past all the insecurities that surrounded me. Seeing Ryan with his ex brought me back to the one morning forever etched in my brain. The memory of finding Ryan after my father had beaten me raw, only to discover that fucking twink from the bar opening his door, and Ryan in nothing but a bed sheet. I won’t go through it again.

  I decided the best thing I could do was bury myself in work. I had a lot of patients to see, which I was happy about because it would keep my mind mine off what happened. I didn’t think a woman would appreciate me dropping a speculum when it came to her vagina. The morning went smoothly with usual yearly well-woman visits. My pager was silent, which meant that no one was in labor and I wouldn’t have to rush to the hospital for a delivery.

  I left one of the exam rooms when Mary, my nurse, approached me. She pressed her lips together and rolled her eyes. Mary didn’t have the best bedside manner, but she was one hell of a nurse. I had never known anyone to keep pristine notes like she did.

  “You have a patient in room two.” She huffed, smacking me in the chest with the patient file.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s hell on wheels,” she called out as she walked past me. When I saw whose name was on the file, I let out an audible groan. Moxie.

  It’s not that I wasn’t happy to see Moxie; we’d grown quite close when Ryan and I started seeing each other. I should say saw each other. It wasn’t in Moxie’s nature to do anything easy, and I could almost guarantee that this wouldn’t be an exception. I walked up to the exam room door and knocked.

  “You many enter,” she said in a regal voice. I closed my eyes tight and shook my head. At this point, I felt like I was being thrown to the wolves. Just one, redheaded, loudmouth wolf, actually.

  Moxie sat on the exam table dressed in the examination gown. Her back was straight, hands in her lap, and chin held high. She tossed a downward glance at me as if I was her servant and she was my queen.

  “Hey, Mox.”

  “Dr. Ford.” Her reply was stiff and formal.

  I sat down on the rolling stool and put her chart on the table. I took a deep breath. “So, what’s going on? I just saw you not to long ago for your postnatal checkup. Miles trying to get you pregnant again already?” I smiled, hoping she realized I was trying to lighten the mood. But she continued to sit there with her eyes in narrow slits.

  “If that man tries to slip one past the goal again, I’ll rip off his penis and eat it with béarnaise sauce while he sits and watches.”

  I squirmed and crossed my legs, afraid for my penis.

  “Nice tie,” she said in a taut voice.

  I looked down at the royal blue tie Ryan had given me. It was the tie he’d worn to Moxie’s wedding. I cou
ldn’t be there because I’d gotten called in for a delivery that night, but Ryan said it was his favorite tie for sentimental purposes. He said it reminded him that there was such a thing as love and happiness. He was lucky enough to bear witness to it. He’d wanted me to wear it so it would remind me of how happy he was with me and that we’d always be tied together like we said all those years ago. I hadn’t realized when I got dressed this morning that I’d even put it on. Perhaps subconsciously, I just wanted him close. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose.

  “You fucked up!” Moxie’s voice rose. My head snapped up, and my jaw dropped.

  “I fucked up?” I questioned. “I wasn’t the one holding my ex-boyfriend in front of the coffee shop looking like I was ready to bend him over and fuck him over a park bench!”

  “What kind of crack are you smoking, Brandon? And more importantly, why aren’t you sharing it with your friends, you stingy bastard?”

  My mouth formed a thin line, and I crossed my arms over my chest. “The only person who’s smoking crack is Ryan if he thinks I’m going to put up with him cheating again.”

  “Whoa, slow down, cowboy. There’s no need to get your dick stuck in your boot spurs. Ryan wasn’t cheating with Tom.”

  “Ha!” I pointed at her. “Moxie, I have a medical degree; I’m not stupid.”

  “Then I would seriously ask for a refund of your money if I were you because they must have given you a degree of Doctor of Douche Baggary with a minor in Asshole. It’s also apparent that you didn’t take a communications class because if you’d just talked to him instead of running away like a whining pussy, you would have found out it didn’t happen that way.” She threw her hands up in the air. “God, how could I have trusted this doctor to touch the precious goldmine that is my vagina and deliver the fruits of my loins?”

  I sat there patiently as Moxie finished her theatrics. “So you’re telling me I didn’t see them kissing?”

  “Oh no, they were doing the tongue tango.”

  I groaned, reeling from her blunt version of events.

  “But that was Tom’s doing, not Ryan’s. Tom has wanted Ryan back for a while now. He’s been calling, texting, showing up at the TV station, and even came to see me a few times. I threatened to take all of Sophie’s and Jaxson’s dirty diapers and pile them into his car if he didn’t stop stalking Ryan.” She started laughing. “You should have seen the OCD asshole’s face when I came up with that one.”

  “Gross. But that doesn’t explain the coffee shop.”

  “Tom followed him there from his apartment because Ryan wasn’t answering any of his messages. They had a fight in the coffee shop, and Tom grabbed him and went in for the kill, hoping to pull some fairytale shit and rekindle the feelings Ryan once had.”

  “What happened?”

  “Ryan punched him and said something like if he didn’t back off he was going to rip out his balls and make them this year’s most fashionable accessory.

  I couldn’t help but laugh. Leave it to Ryan to make a grand departure. My laughter quickly faded. “Why didn’t he tell me any of this?”

  “Hmm, let me think.” Moxie tapped her finger against her lips. “Oh, I know why. Because he was afraid you were going to react the same way you are right now and leave his ass. I told him to inform you, but being the little butt plug he is, he wouldn’t listen. Now I’m stuck here, wearing a homeless woman’s prom dress, hoping you won’t stick a speculum up my choo choo canal in retribution.”

  I sank forward and put my head in my hands. “Fuck me.”

  “Well, I did always wonder what it would be like to wear a strap-on and fuck a dude. But I think I’ll have to take a pass on that.”

  I cracked my fingers apart to look at Moxie. She smirked and wiggled her eyebrows. I sat back up and sighed. “What am I going to do?”

  Moxie tilted her head and gave me a genuine smile. “You go and fight for what’s yours.”

  “What if it’s too late?”

  “Then you quit, move to some remote village in Mexico where you will meet a man named George. He’ll butt fuck you like the little bitch you are,” she said as she sighed and shrugged.

  I smiled. “You never do anything easy, do you?”

  She returned the smile. “That would be a big N.O. I’m sure Miles has a few hours’ worth of stories about me. Did I ever tell you I met him while taking a bar poll about hairy balls?”

  My eyebrows quirked up, and I bit back laughter. “Umm, speaking of balls. If you had a set of balls, they would be beautiful and significant. This has been a nice exam.” I stood up and fixed my tie. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go get my man.”

  I told the secretary in my office to cancel the remaining appointments for the day and tell them I had to go to the hospital for a delivery. I felt guilty for lying, but I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on any of my patients with the thoughts of getting Ryan back in my head. I certainly didn’t want to stab any of the patients with a speculum; someone would sue me for malpractice.

  Once I was in the car, I took out my cell phone and dialed Ryan’s number, hoping he would answer. What exactly would I say? Hey, you! Sorry I was a total asshole. Let’s get back together? There would have to be some groveling on my part, but for Ryan, I would plead with my entire soul. I felt like a total idiot for not trusting him and letting my past demons sneak up on me. The insecurities I’d fought so hard to overcome reawakened within seconds of seeing Tom kiss Ryan.

  Ryan’s voice mail picked up.

  “This is Ryan. Either I’m doing something important or I’m avoiding speaking to you. Either way, leave a message.”

  I rolled my eyes and chuckled. Nice to know Ryan’s ego hadn’t disappeared entirely.

  “Ryan, it’s Brandon. I’m sure I fall into the category of you avoiding me, but I have to talk to you. Please call me back.”

  I also added a text message as soon as I came to a red light.

  Please call me, it’s urgent.

  Since it was still the middle of the day, I assumed Ryan was at work—unless he was pining for me in bed.

  Nice try, asshole. That was you for three days straight.

  Okay, I didn’t sulk in bed, but I sulked, nonetheless.

  I maneuvered my car toward the television station where Ryan worked. If I had to get on the local news to pledge my love for him, then that’s what I would do. Even though I would be completely horrified. But I probably deserved it.

  I found a parking spot at the station and darted into the building. A very young brunette receptionist with a headset sat at the front desk, speaking into the mic. I approached her, out of breath from running. She held up one finger to signal me to wait.

  “I told you, Bobby; that wasn’t why I was upset. You said I overcooked your steak when you explicitly said you wanted it well-done.”

  Seriously?

  I tried to interrupt the insignificant conversation. “Excuse me?”

  She raised a finger to me once again and then returned to the conversation.

  “Bobby, if you tell me one more time that Justine knew how you liked your beef cooked, I’m going to slash the tires on your truck.”

  I looked to the ceiling for any Godly help. This girl was going to be on the five o’clock news if I didn’t find Ryan soon. I looked around the foyer for some directory. There was a small map listing the fire escape routes next to a fire extinguisher. It had a crude layout of the building and the studios. Bingo!

  I jogged past the girl at reception, who was still arguing with the person on the line, and headed toward the bank of elevators. I pressed the number for the right floor and watched as the doors closed in front of me. My nerves got the best of me as I checked out my reflection in the mirrored elevator doors. I straightened my tie… Ryan’s tie.

  When the doors opened, I had no idea where to go, so I chose a direction and prayed it was the right way. The long hallway was lined with closed doors. It was pretty quiet for a television station. Ho
wever, at the end of the hallway, there was a bank of windows that looked into the newsroom studio. I glanced down and saw a broadcast in progress, but couldn’t see anything beyond the bright lights beaming onto the news anchors.

  I had to make a choice—wait until the end or go in with guns blazing.

  Shit!

  I found the door that led into the studio and carefully opened it. No one seemed to notice me, so I stepped inside. There were cameramen and other technicians, but no Ryan. The cameramen had headsets on, so I couldn’t whisper into their ears that I was looking for Ryan could they could point him out to me.

  Double shit!

  Then I heard one of the newscasters.

  “Next up. We will meet the dog that saved fifteen people from a burning house. You don’t want to miss this heroic story.”

  Without thinking, I walked straight into the anchor’s spot and looked right into the camera.

  “Excuse me, sir. What do you think you’re doing? Someone call security.” The male news anchor said as he stood and pointed at me with a scolding finger. “Sabrina, I told you that you need to control your stalkers. Now they’re flooding into the newsroom!” He turned to his co-anchor.

  “I’m looking for Ryan Keller. Does anyone know where he is?”

  It felt like an eternity went by before a door from the back of the studio opened and Ryan stormed out. His eyes were narrowed, his lips in a thin, firm line.

  “Brandon, what the fuck?” he asked, throwing his hands onto his hips.

  I stepped out of the light and pulled him to the side. “I need to talk to you.” I looked at his face, and even in the darkened room I could see the dark circles under his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping, either.

  “What happened? Is everything okay?” he asked, his voice skeptical.

  “No. Everything is not okay.”

  “Are you hurt?” He started to look me over to see if there was any evidence of harm on my body.”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “Then what are you doing here? I’m kind of in the middle of something,”

  “I was wrong.”