Between These Walls

by John Herrick

  “Not long,” Hunter said. “I worked in sales before my company downsized. I’d hit a hard season and had stress-related back pains, so a friend of mine recommended Gabe. He’s her massage therapist.”

  Mrs. Hellman looked pleased, the way mothers do when they hear compliments about their kids. “Well, that explains it. I’ve heard more good things about my son’s work. He’s always made it his aim to take care of people. I lost count of how many times he made me breakfast in bed when he was a young boy.”

  Hunter shot Gabe a knowing smirk. Gabe stuck a fork into his pie, but given the way he raised his eyebrows as he listened, the conversation must have amused him. Either that, or he could sense Hunter eyeing him.

  “How do you think he got to be that way?” Hunter asked, delighting in the opportunity to talk about Gabe as if he weren’t sitting at the table with them. At the same time, though, Hunter had a genuine curiosity about Gabe and wanted to know more about him.

  “When his dad died, I believe he grew up quickly, whether he needed to or not. He wanted to make sure I was safe. A little boy trying to fill the role of a man.” She sipped her coffee and closed her eyes to savor it. “Being mature for his age, he never fit in well with the boys around him.”

  Gabe shrugged as if to say it was no big deal. But when Gabe lifted his coffee cup to his lips, Hunter noticed a change in Gabe’s eyes: Gabe had buried roots of ache yet unspoken. No doubt, now that the humor has passed, he felt weird being talked about as though he wasn’t in the room but didn’t have the heart to ask his mother to stop.

  “I’ll tell you one thing about Gabe: He always had a heart for God, even as a little guy,” Mrs. Hellman said. “And when he told me he’d decided to start his own business, I wasn’t surprised. He’s the type to take initiative on almost anything.”

  Gabe’s face turned a shade of pink from embarrassment. “Mom, I don’t think Hunter wants to hear all this.”

  “Oh, you’re wrong,” Hunter teased, trying to reinstate the humorous aspect of the conversation, “I want to hear it all!”

  “Good, because I’m enjoying this jaunt down memory lane!” said Mrs. Hellman. “Did you know when Gabe was in kindergarten, he’d dress up in his dad’s old military fatigues and pretend to lead a brigade of troops?”

  Hunter couldn’t stop himself from laughing at that. “I had no idea! Imagine Gabe hiding such a juicy detail about his life!”

  Gabe rolled his eyes, shook his head, then scraped the top of his pie with the tongs of his fork. He shot his mother a kindhearted look, and she winked at him in return. Hunter found it obvious a bond existed between this mother and her son.

  In the midst of the lightheartedness, a plume of smoke crept into Hunter’s conscience.

  He took another look at Gabe’s mother, the joy that brought a gleam to her countenance, to this Christian woman who had welcomed him into her home. Regret sunk into his heart, the knowledge that both he and Gabe had engaged her in a charade. Not that they had lied, per se, but they had withheld the full truth.

  Gabe’s mother had kind, trusting eyes. Unsuspecting eyes. Little did she know her son and his friend held a secret, one that might devastate the dreams she likely harbored regarding her son and how his future might unfold.

  One day, this woman would learn their secret.

  One day, she would look back on this Christmas Day in her home with a different perspective. She would know Hunter had looked her in the eye and lied to her—or withheld the truth—the first time he’d met her.

  Why did his personal struggle need to hold devastating ramifications not only for himself, but for the innocent individuals in his life?

  The thought sickened Hunter’s stomach. He knew the situation was more complicated than that; his reasoning was understandable. His intention wasn’t to deceive or mislead her.

  Yet something didn’t seem fair. This caring woman had welcomed a stranger simply because he knew her son. She deserved the truth. But would the truth bring more pain to her heart than a buried secret?

  CHAPTER 33

  The first Thursday of the new year, Gabe stopped by Hunter’s house for the evening. Most Thursdays, Hunter would have attended his Bible study meetings, but the group remained on its holiday break until the following week.

  Sitting on the sofa, Gabe had tuned in to a sitcom on television. Hunter sat on the floor, at Gabe’s feet, with his back against the sofa. Hunter clicked away on his laptop, which he had set on the coffee table, and searched job listings online. He had closed the window curtains after sunset.

  Every so often, Hunter would reach up and rub Gabe’s knee or run his thumb along the lower half of Gabe’s leg to acknowledge he remained on Hunter’s mind. Gabe would return the gesture with a pat on the shoulder or by running his finger against the back of Hunter’s neck. Hunter would reach up, their fingers would intertwine, and they would hold hands for a few seconds before Hunter resumed his work.

  “Is it me,” Gabe blurted, “or is the grandmother character in these sitcoms always one step shy of a loony bin?”

  Hunter considered the question and said, “Maybe it’s vicarious living. Maybe young writers fear growing older and create older characters that remain ageless.” Hunter continued typing. “Can you imagine your grandmother hitting on your best friend?” he added, just to see if he could make Gabe snicker, then basked in the sound of success. He loved to hear Gabe laugh.

  Before he knew it, Hunter grew absorbed in his job search and the minutes ticked past. When he realized time had passed without his saying anything to Gabe or reaching out to make contact, he looked up from his computer and noticed Gabe had settled back into the sofa. Arms crossed, Gabe had turned his head upward, looking anywhere but at the television. It was Gabe’s thinking position. Hunter recognized his concentration from times past. What Hunter didn’t expect, however, were Gabe’s next words.

  “I’m feeling guilty.”

  Hunter stopped typing. The words crashed into him with a thud.

  This can’t be good.

  Whatever Gabe was about to say, Hunter sensed it involved him too, and that put Hunter on guard.

  “Guilty about what?”

  “Maybe we should say something.”

  “You mean … about us?”

  Gabe’s face grew weary. He shook his head. “This secret—maybe it’s not a good thing. It’s getting harder to keep it inside.”

  Those words sent bolts of fear through Hunter’s fibers. Immediately he felt a sweat break out across his brow. He fought to remain calm and talk Gabe through this.

  The television now impeded Hunter’s ability to process his own thoughts. He turned down the volume.

  “What brought this on?” Hunter asked.

  “I don’t know. I can’t shake it,” Gabe said. “I feel like a fraud. A phony. Like I’m lying to people.”

  “So you want them to find out and judge you?”

  “No, I don’t want that, but …”

  Gabe’s face contorted. Hunter could hear fatigue in the way Gabe exhaled.

  “It’s starting to keep me up at night,” Gabe said.

  “Why does it matter if random people don’t know your secrets?”

  “It’s not random people.” Gabe pressed his fingers against his forehead and massaged his temples. “It’s my mom. I don’t think I can keep lying to her. It’s not a white lie, Hunter—I’m lying to her. I’m the only family she has, and I’m lying to her face. It doesn’t seem right to me. I don’t want to hurt her.”

  Hunter understood why Gabe felt that way, yet he felt the situation slipping from his grasp. A flood of unknowns rushed against him. Granted, Hunter knew if he continued down this relationship road with Gabe, the truth couldn’t help but find its way to light—in its own due time. But he hadn’t expected it to collapse so fast; he’d anticipated a step-by-step process, a slow fade into reality.

  He didn’t know what to do next, but the sudden pressure paralyzed his ability to think, so he asked m
ore questions. Maybe a solution would emerge.

  “Why didn’t you say anything before?” Hunter asked.

  “I didn’t have an issue with it before.”

  “So what changed? How long have you felt this way?”

  “Since Christmas,” Gabe said. “That’s when it hit me.”

  Hunter’s knees turned to putty. He pushed himself from the floor with his hands and sat beside Gabe on the sofa. Hunter fidgeted with his hands, watching one finger interweave with another. Resignation started to seep in, which scared him. He tried to fight against it.

  “I’ll admit, I felt the same way facing her at Christmas,” Hunter said. “I didn’t intend to lie. It seemed better than the alternative, though.”

  Hunter got up from the sofa and started to pace the room. His stomach felt too jostled to sit still. When seated, he felt like he might vomit. His arms went into a nervous shudder. He had to find a way to convince Gabe to keep their relationship quiet; otherwise, their status quo would explode. More than anything, Hunter feared the loss of control.

  “You can’t say anything. Please, Gabe.”

  “Hunter—”

  “I haven’t told my parents, either.” Wringing his hands, Hunter paced faster.

  “That’s different. You yourself said you’re not close to your family. My situation’s different.”

  Hunter took another look at Gabe and realized their conversation wasn’t about family, not when they dug down to its root.

  “This is bigger than family, isn’t it?” Hunter said.

  Pacing. Pacing.

  “It feels like my walls are closing in on me from all sides.” Gabe’s shoulders slumped. From the way he rested his head against his tented hands, Hunter could see Gabe felt he’d disappointed Hunter.

  Compassion for Gabe flooded Hunter’s heart. He didn’t want Gabe to live fettered.

  “Gabe, listen. I know we can’t make this all about what’s convenient for me. But I don’t even know where I stand on things yet—not everything, at least. I’m not ready for everyone to find out about me. Are you ready for them to find out about you?”

  As Hunter approached, Gabe shot up from the sofa and placed his hands on Hunter’s shoulders. Hunter stopped pacing. When Hunter looked into Gabe’s face, their eyes held. Gabe’s voice grew softer, more caring.

  “I don’t have all the answers either, Hunter. This is new to me, too.” Gabe’s eyes grew more sincere. “I need to confide in someone. I’m not looking to tell a bunch of people, but I need to take an honest step with my life. I’ll keep it under control. I promise.”

  Hunter couldn’t stay focused on Gabe’s face. He allowed his eyes to wander. Then he felt the gentle touch of Gabe’s finger on his chin. When Hunter looked up, he found Gabe searching his eyes, drawing him in.

  “Do you trust me?” asked Gabe.

  Fear aside, Hunter sensed strength in Gabe’s eyes, an anchor, like a part of him had found solid ground. Without another word, Hunter sighed, closed his eyes, and rested his forehead against Gabe’s. All memories of their conversation vanished. In that moment, Hunter’s world contracted to this room, to Gabe and him. Neither had answers, yet in Gabe’s eyes, Hunter had found genuine love.

  With his eyes still closed, Hunter rested his head a moment longer. He could hear Gabe breathing. He sensed the nearness of Gabe’s lips.

  Hunter brushed Gabe’s lips with his own. Gabe’s mouth felt warm against his.

  He listened to Gabe’s exhale. Soon Gabe relented, and their lips met in a soft, tender kiss.

  Until now, Gabe had felt like a companion. They had shared a heart connection but seldom engaged in physical affection. An invisible border had stood between them, its existence unnamed and unspoken. Tonight, however, Hunter felt drawn to Gabe, like they were in this struggle—this relationship—together. And he sensed Gabe felt the same way.

  Gabe sought Hunter’s lips again and kissed him fuller this time. They inhaled deeper. Slower.

  Gabe slid his hands toward Hunter’s lower back, which sent a pleasant chill up Hunter’s spine. A sweet, nervous ache settled into Hunter’s belly at Gabe’s touch. This was new territory for them. Uncharted waters.

  Hunter began to lose himself in the moment. By instinct, he drew closer to Gabe, running his hands beneath Gabe’s shirt and lifting it up from the back. Without a word, Hunter discovered he and Gabe were in sync. Gabe wriggled his way out of his shirt and for the first time, Hunter saw Gabe’s shoulders and the full length of his bare, slender arms.

  Their lips continued to meet. Their hands continued to explore from one direction to the next. One layer of clothing departed, followed by another. Hunter felt himself stir below the waist as the bittersweet ache now sent flutters through his belly. Gabe ran his hands along Hunter’s biceps.

  When they reached their undershorts, Hunter hesitated. He had grown fully aroused and could see Gabe had, too.

  Gabe leaned his head forward, rested his cheek against Hunter’s, and kissed Hunter’s neck. This sent a rush of strength through Hunter’s veins. Hunter detected a musky scent upon Gabe’s flesh.

  Gabe glided his hand toward Hunter’s waistline, where his thumb brushed across a sensitive spot along Hunter’s lower belly. The sweet ache increased; Hunter’s belly quivered in response, but he recovered with more vigor than before and placed his hands over Gabe’s.

  Hunter breathed deep. This would mark the first time they had seen each other undressed. Even at the massage appointments, Hunter had covered himself with a towel. But tonight, a different context existed: an invitation.

  Hunter decided to trust. And in a flicker of boldness, Hunter stepped out of his undershorts, waited a beat, then ran his fingers along Gabe’s waistline until his shorts fell to the floor.

  Another kiss, passionate and full. Hunter knew their situation would grow more complicated after this, yet he found it difficult to stop. The frustration he’d pent up for so many years began to rush forth in an honest release. He immersed himself in the heat of Gabe’s mouth and the security of Gabe’s touch.

  Hunter almost didn’t hear the key turn in the front door. It seemed like the entry of an unexpected, unfitting character in a dream. But less than three seconds later, the front door opened.

  Hunter froze. Gabe froze. Gabe looked up, his face stricken with fear.

  With his back toward the front door, which led into the living room, Hunter looked over his shoulder.

  Kara stood inside the door, staring at Hunter and Gabe, her mouth agape. Too stunned to move a muscle.

  Hunter’s mind felt paralyzed. His immediate response was to stand in front of Gabe and shield him from Kara’s view.

  Hunter kept his back turned toward the door, unable to face Kara or acknowledge the truth.

  It was too late.

  Too late to get dressed. Too late to pretend nothing had happened.

  His secret was out.

  PART 3

  STAINMERCY

  CHAPTER 34

  “What were you doing, letting yourself into my house!” Hunter shouted.

  Gabe was gone. Hunter had dressed. Kara stood with her arms planted on her hips, her shoulders aimed in his direction, ready for a fight.

  Hunter felt as furious as Kara looked. Her flesh had boiled to a shade of crimson. In the midst of the breakup and his concern for Kara’s feelings, he had forgotten to retrieve her key to his house.

  “I left a scarf in your garage when I was headed out your door one night,” Kara yelled back. “Today I remembered where it was, so I came by to grab it and leave the key behind!”

  “Why didn’t you give me the key when we broke up? Why didn’t you return it back then?”

  “Gee, Hunter, I’m sorry if I didn’t cover all my bases when you pulled the rug out from under me,” Kara replied in a sarcastic tone. “I was too humiliated to look at you or your house, where I’d wasted so many evenings of my life!”

  “So you decided tonight was the perfect night to stop by
?”

  “It’s Thursday night! You said you have Bible study on Thursday nights! Were you lying about that all this time, too?”

  Hunter stumbled at her remark but recovered. “No! Don’t you dare try to change the subject on me, like this is my fault! And what does it matter, anyway? You decided to walk right in! Didn’t it occur to you to knock?”

  Kara furrowed her brow, rubbed her finger tips against her temples. “I didn’t think you’d be here! I was going to grab my scarf, then leave a note on your kitchen table letting you know I locked the door and left the key under your doormat!” she yelled. “I was avoiding a confrontation, not sneaking behind your back! Then again, it doesn’t look like I’m the one who’s been sneaking around behind anyone’s back!”

  Hunter froze at Kara’s words. Regardless of what she had intended to accomplish tonight, it had gone wrong—dead wrong. Kara had altered his life forever.

  She turned and threw her hands in the air. With a grunt of frustration, she started to pace the living room, away from Hunter.

  “How could I not see this coming?” she shouted. “I must be stupid! Or clueless!”

  He had to admit, he felt bad for her, yet his anger lingered. Determined to restore peace, he took a deep breath and gritted his teeth. In a calm tone, he said, “It isn’t what you think.”

  Kara whipped around and darted back in his direction. Hunter thought she would plow into him until she stopped a few inches away.

  “It isn’t what I think?” she said. Her voice had grown calmer, but Hunter could still hear her seethe beneath her words. “What I think? It couldn’t be more obvious what’s been going on,” she added, with a suggestive hint to the tone of her voice. Her eyes narrowed. She shot him a look that indicated he’d mistaken her for a fool.

  “We didn’t plan that,” Hunter said. “What you saw—it just happened that way.”

  Kara let out a soft chuckle and shook her head. “You wouldn’t even have sex with me! You said you’d lost your virginity but never had sex since. You told me you were waiting for marriage.”