by Lucian Clark
“No, no. It’s cute,” Jack chuckled. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Is it Monday yet?” I whined, not wanting the call to end yet despite how tired I was.
“No,” Jack sighed. “Not yet.”
“Soon.” I said.
“Soon.” Jack repeated before hanging up.
Going to bed after our conversations were always hard. My brain took so long to wind down and the butterflies in my stomach were surely actually moths. It meant I barely got any sleep before heading into work and would sneak naps in the bathroom here and there in order to function. How I never crashed my car still surprises me as there were more than a few drives to and from work that I do not remember. And yet, the days leading up to Monday marched forward.
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When Monday came Gideon left early in the morning. That left Jack the whole day to spend digging through the mansion to try and find any trace of a camera, a wire, anything that would say Gideon was onto us. He had never done it before, but Jack had also never planned on leaving Gideon; there was a first time for everything. When we decided the coast was clear, we met at Helena’s for what would hopefully be the last time. It was bittersweet, the thought of never having to walk through that door again. At the same time I could feel myself slipping into bad habits I thought I had left behind so maybe it was for the better.
Jack’s plan was a simple one. He would leave before me and I would wait here for a little bit. Make it look like Jack had left to go home and then I would go home myself a little bit after. Not exactly the best plan, but after hours on the phone, I couldn’t come up with anything better. Jack had checked the mansion for bugs and came up empty-handed. And no one came knocking after I had brought Jack home either, so we didn’t think anyone was following us around. It would look like Jack left to go home, I got bored after Jack left (per usual) and then I went home myself.
I slipped my key into Jack’s hand watching as he curled his fingers over the cold metal. My heart flung itself into my throat. The words burned. They were so hard to get out. The risk we were taking. I swallowed hard, gasping for air. In the darkness of Helena’s I could see that Jack was clutching my key so tightly his knuckles were white. Was he having second thoughts?
“One hour.” Those two simple words felt like acid bubbling from my lips. Jack simply nodded and went back to sipping his drink. We idly chatted. Jack pretended to check his phone, wished me goodnight, and left. I felt like everyone was staring at me. My skin crawled with their all-knowing gaze. Could they see through the ruse? Why were we making this such a big deal here now? At no point before had our secrets left the confines of Helena’s, so why did we think they would now? Surely anything that had been said or done would have already reached Gideon and damned us long ago.
Despite being a Monday, or because of, the bar was packed. So many prying eyes that could potentially ruin the plan. Jack and I had been careful though, there was no reason for Gideon to assume anything, and thus, no need for spies. Soon I would go back to my apartment, Jack already waiting for me, and we would give it a shot. One month to see if we could make this work, make it worth the risk we we daring to take. Not enough time, but we had no choice. Jack’s confidence in the situation usually calmed my worries, but for now I was left alone with my own thoughts.
All I could think about was how much longer I had until I could go home. Until I could see Jack. Until I could be with Jack. Be with…Jack. It was official, Jack was mine. For now anyway. An unfamiliar warmth crept through me, pressing my heart into both my throat and my stomach. I smiled to myself and took a sip of my drink. I felt like a balloon that was floating away – light and free. My eyes floated over to the bartender who was staring intently at me. There was no attempt to hide his gaze. The way he was staring made my insides go cold and sink, deflating hard and fast. The bartender shook his head and turned away, moving to help a new face that had just sat down at the bar with a companion whose mouth was moving a mile a minute.
By the time the halfway mark hit, I could feel the knots destroying my guts. Doubt was starting to creep in again. Was Jack’s plan as new or as randomly Heaven-sent as I had originally thought? How many other attempts had there been? I buried my face in my hands after draining my drink and let my mind go. Every possible scenario, every possible outcome, both good and bad. I let it wash over me and surrendered myself to the waves. Helena’s melted away as my mind raced. Not even the music could reach me here. Now I knew where Jack went when those eyes looked so distant, reaching and searching for an escape. Any possible plan or idea that would take him away from his life and situation. Except, I wasn’t looking for an escape. I was looking for an answer. I couldn’t bring this negativity home with me. I wouldn’t let it taint my time with Jack.
My phone buzzed and pulled me back into the bar. Sound rushed back into my head, causing me to grit my teeth against the onslaught and headache that it brought. Go time. The walk through the bar felt like walking through zero gravity. My feet barely touched the floor. I was floating. I pushed the door open and stepped into the outside, the night was bright and clear. I took a deep breath, feeling the cool air burn its way down my sinuses and into my lungs. Now or never.
Walking into my own apartment felt wrong. Everything felt forbidden, like it wasn’t my apartment anymore – an alternate dimension. Turning the key, the deadbolt echoed through out the courtyard and I felt my chest grow tight. I realized I had been holding my breath as I opened the door into the darkness. This was not what I had been expecting. I had expected that the lights would all be on with Jack sitting on the couch and waiting for me. Or raiding my fridge. Something full of light and life, not this heavy darkness that blanketed the entire apartment in a thick and oppressive silence. The only thing I could hear was the click of the clock above my TV, a cat whose eyes and tail moved with the ticking seconds.
“Jack?” I called out softly, half expecting someone else to answer. Had Jack’s nerves gotten the best of him? Did he realize on the drive over that this was a stupid idea? Did he drive past and go off to start his new life alone? I hung my keys on the hook next to the door, shutting it behind me and throwing the deadbolt. Inside of the apartment, the noise rang hollow and empty. There was no sense of life besides my own here. Goose bumps shot up my arms.
“Jack?” I called again, louder this time. No response. I clicked the lights on and looked over on the couch. Empty. Not even a jacket or Jack’s bag to show that at least he was or had been here. The bathroom door stood wide open, the dim glow of the nightlight showing no hidden intruders either. Something caught in my throat as I struggled to swallow. A joke? Not Jack’s sense of humor and definitely not funny.
Only one door lay closed still; the bedroom. No light rushed from under the door and there was no sound or movement from behind it. Still better to check before letting utter despair take over. Right? Turning the doorknob slowly, as to not startle any potential intruders, I glanced in. There I saw Jack laying on my bed. His hair spilled out under him looking like blood it was so dark and shiny against the sheets. His chest rose and fell softly and his mouth was slightly open as he snored so gently my ears strained to hear it. He had passed out on top of the sheets with his bag dropped next to the bed with its contents strewn across the floor.
Jack slowly awoke as I sat down next to him on the bed. My weight caused the bed to creak and Jack rolled towards me. He mumbled something before curling up against my back.
“Your shoes are still on.” I chuckled. Jack didn’t move. He returned to snoring softly. Silently, I rose from the bed and Jack weakly pawed at me in his sleep. His eyes never opened nor did he stir much more as I removed his shoes and wrapped him in the sheets. There were a few things I had to do for work before I could follow Jack into bed. A smile crossed my lips and I sighed. It all felt so natural already and Jack clearly felt comfortable enough to immediately walk in and pass out. Or he was just exhausted and relieved to finally be without Gideon fo
r a short while.
Quietly, I made myself a cup of tea and settled into my work desk. My back was to the rest of the living room, a purposeful design to avoid watching the TV while I had work to do. Did this always stop me from procrastinating while things like YouTube existed and I had two monitors? Of course not, but I liked to pretend that it did. I didn’t bother to turn on the living room lights either, the glow of the screens was enough for me. Probably bad for my eyes if my glasses were any indication. The work I had to do was minimal, just putting some numbers into an Excel spreadsheet and tidying it up. Work, that was supposed to be done a week ago, but I had been too wrapped up in my plans with Jack. The clock on the wall read just past 1am. Hopefully, I would be done and in bed, with Jack, by no later than 2:30am.
That was the plan anyway until Jack gently shook my shoulder. I had been working for no more than ten or fifteen minutes. The action startled me and I jumped, quickly removing my headset and whipping around only to remember that I was sharing my apartment tonight. At some point, Jack had changed into an over-sized shirt that looked like at some point it had belonged to Gideon. The white could barely be called that anymore and it was so thin it was almost see through. Across the front was a logo from some tech company and a date of the conference August 14-16, 2015. Jack’s pierced nipples were visible and pressed against the thin fabric causing a flush to cross my cheeks. It was bizarre to see Jack like this. His make-up streaked across his face and pooled around his eye sockets. Probably from rubbing the sleep from them by the looks of the black marks on his hands. He looked like a cartoon depiction of a raccoon.
“Hey…” My greeting was cut off by Jack pouting at me. “Hey now, what’s wrong?”
“Why aren’t you in bed too?” He yawned. He seemed even smaller than usual, almost childlike in his questioning.
“Work.” I gestured over my shoulder at the bright computer screen. “I’ll be do
ne shortly.” Jack only pouted more. Without a word, he shuffled back into the bedroom seemingly accepting my answer. I chuckled and shook my head, returning to my work with a renewed sense of urgency.
It was around 2am when I finally finished. Cracking my knuckles as I waited for my computer to turn off, I looked over at my bedroom door. Light was visible from underneath. Had Jack been waiting for me and I didn’t even noticed? I hoped not. I pushed the door open timidly, hoping to find Jack sound asleep and not angry that I had taken so long to finish my work. Once again, Jack was on the top of the covers having fallen back asleep while waiting for me. I shook my head and undressed, tucking Jack and myself into bed.
He was like a little space heater, so warm under my sheets. I had never truly shared a bed with someone else. Not like this anyway. A drunken hook-up or two, but nothing serious. Nothing even remotely resembling a longtime relationship. A lifetime of nights like this. Jack curled up against my chest, his soft breaths matching the rhythm of my own. I could get used to this.
VIII.
Dinners. Movies. Parks. Camping. We did everything we could fit in. The days were split between my work schedule and anything we could do to keep Jack out of his house. The weekends were entirely ours. Normally when Gideon was away Jack would just stay home and wait. Now Jack had the freedom to do anything he wanted. And he took advantage of that fact. There were days while I was at work Jack would stay at the mansion as well as some nights, as to not draw too much suspicion for why he was suddenly never home. The neighbors were full of gossip and he knew they would say something to Gideon. It also allowed him to check-in with Gideon through emails and the occasional video call at weird hours.
Days went by too quickly while we were together. The hours at work went by painfully slow. A month was not enough time, no matter what we did. In order to maximize our time together I even used the little bit of time off from work I had saved.
It was the happiest I had seen Jack. It took some time for him to ease his nerves. There was always a looming threat Gideon would return early, or call and state that he knew what Jack was planning. After a week of nothing, he eased up. He kept his hair down, he smiled more, he actually seemed alive. Those big brown eyes sparkled in the light and in the darkness of the bedroom. Somehow, he grew more gorgeous as he gained a love of life with his newfound freedom. It was honestly the best month of my life too.
My work faltered, but I didn’t care. I missed deadlines to take Jack out. Maxed out two credit cards on whatever and wherever Jack wanted. I wanted to show him everything that he was missing under Gideon. I had to. Jack deserved everything and so much more than I could give him. There would be time between when Gideon came back and we moved that I could use to make everything right again with my finances. I had no choice if we wanted to afford the move and start a life together. But until then? Whatever he wanted.
During dinner near the end of the second week, Jack explained that the days and nights at his house were becoming more and more unbearable. He was counting the days until Gideon would return and he would have to go back to pretending, hopefully not for long if we planned right. His voice was pained as he spoke and he squeezed my hand until it hurt. That drive, and need, to leave a life behind was something I understood. I had been there too.
“Oh, look at that one!” Jack jammed a finger hard enough at the computer screen to cause the colors to ripple.
“Careful!” I barked, swatting at his hand and receiving a pout in response. “But, yes. I like that one too.” It was a little community of two-story apartment complexes with a park in the middle of it. It was also across the country from Gideon. Somewhere where Gideon wouldn’t be able to retaliate when Jack broke the news. Somewhere we could start a new life – together. It wasn’t big, but I didn’t make enough money to afford the life of luxury Jack was used to receiving. Not that he knew that fact quite yet. It stretched the budget, but I could make it work. We could make it work.
We had it all figured out too. Jack would go back to Gideon for a bit while the lawyer worked on gathering paperwork, evidence, whatever was needed for the restraining order and the divorce. I would be the point of contact during that time as to not alert Gideon. Once the restraining order went through, Jack would stay at my place until the divorce was finalized. Hopefully we would halfway across the country by then too. The lawyer would fax over anything that still needed to be signed.
Jack would be able to finally get a job; I would be able to easily find something new too. The place was pet-friendly, unlike this apartment, so we could get a cat and/or a dog. There would be grocery shopping trips and date nights. No one around to know either of our pasts. Pure bliss – an idyllic life for the two of us.
Smiling, I leaned over and kissed Jack on the cheek while he leaned over my shoulder. The only sound was the click of the mouse as Jack looked through the photos. His eyes were focused and mouth open. He seemed to really like the apartment. That immediate connection with somewhere you felt you could imagine your life and call home.
“It reminds me of here.” Jack said, pointing at how the kitchen connected to the living room.
“Do you like it here?” I asked.
“I wish we could stay here.” Jack sighed deeply. A melancholy statement. I reached back and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer despite the computer chair that kept us apart.
“Maybe that is enough looking for today. You want to order in?” I asked, bookmarking the apartment and turning off the computer. I could see Jack reflected back to me in the dark screens. It seemed to elongate his features, pulling those already almost too big eyes even larger. It was almost comical and I smiled, slowly standing up. “We could do Lucy’s Diner again?” The greasy diner food seemed to be Jack’s favorite, especially the large Belgian waffles with bananas and confectioner’s sugar. Jack had a sweet tooth that was betrayed by the fact he was missing a few of his molars. Casualties from childhood gone unsupervised. There was also the slightly too bright canine tooth that was fake due to a fight him and Gideon had when they first starte
d dating. These facts were extracted one by one, much like those teeth. Festering stories that over time led to pain, but then relief once you were finally rid of them.
There had been long nights of sitting on the couch and just talking. Long meandering conversations that often turned to our pasts, but only in small parts. Our conversations did not linger there long and these pieces were taken bit by bit. There was talk about the usual things like our favorite movies, as well arguments over radio stations and the subsequent compromise station. The two-hour-long conversation about cooking eggs and an even longer one about breakfast for dinner. Jack spoke of all the scandals his neighbors were involved with. Being kept at home meant he had a lot of time to people-watch and eavesdrop, and he certainly seemed to have a talent for it. Turns out that those made for TV movies weren’t always incorrect. There were swingers, drugs, and cheating all up and down that block. No murder though, at least not that Jack knew. Money doesn’t bring happiness, it would seem.
Jack and I also both shared a reluctance to share the sensitive subjects. Jack confided in me the story of his scars; which ones were from accidents like climbing trees or crashing his bike, and which ones came from less humorous sources such as himself or Gideon. While I had already known about his back, he went into detail the horrific ordeals his family and the Church had put him through in the name of God back in Rivière-du-Loup, Québec. In turn, Jack learned about my family back in Georgia. He learned about my business failures and about how my parents risked their house for me. My mother’s early demise due to cancer. My guilt about not moving back home to take care of her.
As the days ran on, conversations turned to the more mundane such as who needed to pick up what and where our next dates would be. We started planning for the future, for what would be our lives together. Jack seemed to focus on planning the move, making sure that we picked the perfect place and often went above budget. My focus was on reigning Jack back into reality. Moving was expensive and not simple. Jack was raised in families where everything was taken care of for him, including now with Gideon. He had never held down a job and there was a lot he still needed to learn about the world, I quickly found out.