His Surrender

by Jaclyn Osborn

  “Can you come over?” My voice came out strange even to me.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, no longer annoyed.

  “No.” My vision blurred as tears welled in my eyes. “I’m not.”

  “I’ll be over soon.”

  The call disconnected, and I lowered the phone just as a tear slipped from the corner of my eye. We might’ve had our disputes, but we came through for each other when it really mattered. It was March now and the days were getting warmer, but the evenings were cool. As a chilly breeze passed over my skin, I shivered and stood to go back inside. When I stumbled, I caught myself on the patio column.

  “’swhat you get for drinkin’ so much, you jackass,” I mumbled, steadying myself again before opening the back door and entering the kitchen.

  Sputnik sat under the archway leading into the living room, his fluffy tail slowly moving beside him on the floor as he watched me stumble around and make another drink. I rarely got drunk, and so he probably thought I was crazy. Which… I mean, I suppose I was.

  Did a sane man throw away the best thing that’d ever happened to him?

  I wasn’t sure how much time passed before I heard a heavy knock at the front door. With a drink in hand, I made my way over and opened it. Emery stood on my doorstep, his black hair disheveled, and he wore a T-shirt and jeans.

  “Hey, handsome,” I said, opening the door wider for him.

  As he passed me, he took the drink from my hand. “You won’t be needing this anymore.”

  “Bullshit.” I shut the door and leaned against it. “That’s the only thing I need right now.”

  “No, you need to sit the hell down before you fall over.” Emery grabbed my arm and guided me toward the couch.

  I plopped down, smirking as he shook his head. He placed the glass on a coaster and sat beside me. Sputnik jumped up on the couch and purred as he rubbed against Emery’s side.

  “Wasn’t too long ago when you were callin’ me while shitfaced,” I slurred, cracking a smile at the memory. “Remember? I had to put you to bed and everything.”

  In fact, there’d been several times over the years when Emery had drowned himself in booze, mainly after his divorce and when his son found out he was gay. I had done my best to be there for him—as a lover, as a friend. Whatever he needed me to be. Then, when he met Cason and things had ended between them for a while, he’d turned back to his old friend Jack Daniels. I had gone over to his house and let him unleash all the pent-up sadness and confusion.

  “You’re a great friend, Foley.” Emery pet Sputnik and regarded me with concerned eyes. “I know we haven’t been on the best of terms lately, and I’m sorry for that.”

  “Don’t be. This case is a tough one.”

  “It is.” He nodded. “And you were right. I panicked when I saw that damn text message and intentionally looked to get you on a technicality to have it marked as inadmissible in court.”

  “You wouldn’t be a good defense attorney if you didn’t.” I slouched more and leaned my head back against the cushion. Even with my eyes closed, it felt like the room was spinning a little.

  “You going to tell me why you drunk yourself stupid tonight?” Emery asked.

  I peered over at him. “Remember when you and Cason broke up last year and you were like a little lost puppy looking at his pictures and stuff on your phone? I said that’s why I’d never fall in love, and you said—”

  “I said we couldn’t control who we fell in love with,” Emery interjected, his eyes narrowing. “I also said one day you’d meet a guy who’d turn you into a little lost puppy too.”

  I extended my arms to the side and gave a dry laugh. “Woof woof, motherfucker.”

  “Excuse me? I’m not following.”

  Heaving a sigh, I sat up and leaned forward, resting my arms on my legs. “I don’t know if I’m in love or not. What I do know is I feel a lot for Remi. He’s all I think about, Cross. All I fuckin’ want. And I fucked up bad today. Well, I’ve actually been fuckin’ up for weeks because I’m a goddamn asshole.”

  “There were a lot of fucks in that.”

  “Well, this situation calls for all the fucks,” I said. An ache went through my chest, and I reached for my bourbon. I was drunk but not nearly drunk enough.

  “I don’t think so.” Emery snatched the glass from my reach and stood from the couch. “This won’t solve anything. The thing that made you drink in the first place will still be there when you sober back up. Sound familiar? That’s exactly what you told me the last time I turned to drinking when things went to shit.” He then went into the kitchen, and I heard him pour my drink in the sink. The faucet turned on, and he returned moments later with a glass of water. “Here.”

  I glowered at the water but accepted it and took a drink. “Whiskey is better.”

  He chuckled and sunk back onto the cushion beside me.

  “Was Cason okay with you coming over?”

  “Yes.” Emery pulled Sputnik onto his lap. My traitor of a cat adored him. “He’s worried about you. So am I. What’s going on with Remi? You said you fucked up. How?”

  “You know me.” I shrugged. “Things got too serious and I ran.”

  “How serious?”

  “He said he loved me.” Ice replaced the warmth from the whiskey in my veins.

  “So you get drunk? I know you have reservations about relationships, but I don’t see why you’d throw away someone you care about just because he loves you. That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Because I’m a chickenshit,” I said, my temper rising with my voice. “I got my heart broken before, and it turned me into the asshole I am now.”

  Emery blinked at me. “I didn’t know you had your heart broken.”

  Because I’d never told him. I kept that shit close to my chest and preferred it that way.

  “I don’t like talking about it. God, I need that whiskey. Why the fuck did you take it away from me?” I tried to stand.

  “Sit your ass back down, Foley.” He pushed on my chest, making me fall back onto the couch. “I swear to god, if you pour another glass, I’ll kick your ass.”

  “That rhymed.”

  Closing his eyes, he pinched the bride of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Look, Jay.” His blue eyes met mine. “I get it. I do. Falling in love with someone is scary and—”

  “I don’t love him.”

  “Right.” He didn’t look like he believed me. Hell, I didn’t know if I believed myself. “Anyway. I know it’s scary opening up to someone. That’s how I felt with Cason. But like I said in the past, you can’t control love. It happens whether you want it to or not. It’s also one of the best things to ever happen to me.”

  “I’m glad you found that with Cason. I really am. But that’s not me, Emery. I’m not the romance type. I’m the fuck-and-leave type. It’s how I like it.”

  “Yeah?” His gaze was piercing. “If that’s how you like it, then why are you such a mess right now? Before we first met, when I was hiding who I was, I’d felt like I was drowning, like my head was barely above the water and I’d sink to the depths any day. Well, Foley, I’m lookin’ at you right now and I see you drowning too.”

  My first instinct was to get defensive. However, the fight had left me. I didn’t know if it was because of the booze messing with my head… or maybe my soul was just too tired… but I put my face in my hands and released a sharp exhale.

  I was barely holding myself together.

  “Come on.” Emery lightly bumped the top of my head with his fist. “I’m putting you to bed.”

  I laughed, though it sounded hoarse and thick. Another clear sign that I’d break down any moment. He helped haul me to my feet and put an arm around my waist as he took me to my bedroom.

  “This is familiar,” I mumbled as Emery laid me on the bed.

  “Shut up.” He covered me with the comforter and flipped on the ceiling fan, knowing I couldn’t sleep without it. “I’ll go grab your water.” He left the
room, and I closed my eyes, listening to his steps in the hall. I jumped when his voice sounded again shortly after. “Will you be okay?”

  “Da. Spokoynoy nochi.”

  “English, Foley.”

  “Yes,” I said. “Good night.”

  He turned to leave but stopped after a few steps and looked back at me. “Can I give you some advice?”

  “Sure,” I mumbled, my eyelids getting heavier as I tried to keep them open. “Give me your words of wisdom, Cross.”

  “Because of fear, I almost threw away the best relationship I’ve ever had,” he said, and the vulnerability in his voice sobered me up a bit. “If I would’ve given in to that fear, Cason wouldn’t be with me right now. I would’ve never gotten to see the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs or hear all the random shit that flies out of his mouth when he’s excited. So many precious moments would’ve been lost.”

  My throat tightened and those damn tears filled my eyes again. I knew what he was getting at.

  “Love is unexpected and scary and so many other things. And fuck, it can hurt sometimes.” Emery took a deep, steadying breath. “But it’s worth the risk, Jay. If you take anything I say to heart, that’s it. Love is worth it.”

  “I just don’t wanna get hurt again,” I said as a weight pressed down on my chest.

  “You have to ask yourself what’s worse: maybe getting hurt… or walking away from him and always wondering what could’ve happened if you’d stayed.”

  Too emotional to speak, I only stared at him. My jaw got tight, and my chin started to quiver. I’m not going to fucking cry in front of him.

  I blamed the bourbon. It had numbed the pain for a while, but now that pain had been exposed again.

  “This doesn’t change anything, Cross.” I managed a smirk in spite of the whirlwind of chaos in my chest. “When court resumes in April, I won’t show any mercy.”

  “I wouldn’t want it any other way.” Emery smiled before bending down to grab Sputnik and set him on the bed. “Good night. If you need anything, call me.”

  “Will do.”

  He flipped off the light before he left, and I closed my eyes. Talking to him had helped, but I still felt hollow on the inside. I’d tried filling that emptiness with whiskey, but it had only temporarily fixed the problem.

  Truth be told, I had been covering up my issues for years, using sex as a shield from the dark shit in my head. But now I was left flayed open and forced to confront the crap I’d kept buried for so long.

  I thought of Andrew.

  “No one will ever love you as much as I do,” Andrew said, tracing the curve of my stomach. We were in a hotel room, enjoying the afterglow of mind-blowing sex. His blond hair fell messily into his handsome face, and I smiled as I brushed it aside.

  “When can we be together for real?” I asked, touching his jaw. “I think I might be ready to come out to my parents. Pretty sure my mom already suspects. I want you to meet them and—”

  “No.” Andrew knocked my hand aside and stood from the bed.

  “Why?” I asked, sliding off the mattress and stepping toward him. “You told me you were gonna leave your wife for me.”

  “I am,” he snapped. “I need more time.”

  “More time? We’ve been doin’ this for two years, Andrew! How much more time do you need?”

  “Keep your voice down.” He slapped a hand to my mouth and pinned me against the wall. His gaze searched my face much like mine was doing to his. “Now be a good boy and go take a shower. I’ll join you shortly.”

  He dropped his hand from my mouth.

  “But—”

  “Do as I say.” His voice was just as cold as his icy stare. “I won’t repeat myself.”

  It wasn’t until Andrew cut off all communication with me a year later that I realized how stupid I’d been. He’d never had any intention of leaving his wife. Three years I’d wasted with him. That’s also when I’d seen how controlling and emotionally abusive the relationship had been. It was why I had such a hard time surrendering control now—why I had difficulty opening up to people.

  The tears I had held back all night finally fell.

  Sputnik came over and lay on my chest, purring. I ran my fingers through his fur, knowing how pathetic I was but unable to stop it.

  I wanted to take that leap of faith with Remi. But I didn’t know how.

  The next morning, I woke with a killer headache and groaned as I got out of bed. Emery had set a glass of water and Tylenol on the nightstand. I smiled. He was such a dad. I popped the pills and downed half the water before starting my day. And what a damn long, exhausting day it was. Trial had been postponed until April, but there was still a ton of work to do at the office.

  Garrett and I sat in the conference room sorting through the exhibits and discussing our next plan of action once court resumed.

  The defense planned to call a medical expert to the stand and have them say it was possible for the incident to have occurred the way Lindsey Wilson claimed even after my expert had given contradictory testimony saying it was highly unlikely. But the highly unlikely claim still left room for it to be possible, and the defense had jumped at the opportunity to plant a seed of doubt in the jury’s mind.

  “We’ll need more coffee, I think,” Garrett said before sighing and tossing the stack of papers on the table.

  “Make it extra strong?”

  “You got it.” He left the room.

  Garrett was fresh out of law school, and this was his first big case. He’d done great on it, though, and I’d be sure to give him a good word when it was all over, since he was working under me and could benefit from a reputation boost.

  I grabbed my phone from where I’d placed it facedown on the table and checked it. It was a little after eleven thirty that morning. Remi should’ve been getting ready for lunch. I sent him a text before I could talk myself out of it.

  Me: Things got a bit heated yesterday.

  Remi: Is that your idea of an apology?

  Damn. He was already so defensive.

  Me: I don’t like where we are right now.

  Remi: Me either, Jay, but I can’t do this anymore. You know how I feel, and you don’t feel the same. We want different things. It’s not fair to either of us to keep this going.

  Me: What are you saying?

  Remi: I’m saying it’s been great with you but this is as far as it needs to go. I want a relationship. Commitment. Someone who won’t run as soon as things get serious. After years of being a pushover when it comes to guys, I’m finally standing up for myself. I know what I deserve and I won’t settle for less.

  The corners of my eyes stung as an unexpected surge of emotion welled up in me. He was right. I didn’t respond to his message.

  Garrett returned with a cup of coffee in each hand. He placed one in front of me and retook his seat across from me. I thanked him and we continued our work.

  The tone of finality in Remi’s text weighed heavily on my heart. I had let him slip through my fingers.

  ***

  “Will you grab the ice chest from the kitchen?” Ivan asked Friday afternoon. A tent bag was slung over his shoulder, and he carried bags in each hand. I’d bought him the tent and some camping supplies for his birthday. He’d seemed happy about it, so I suppose I’d done all right.

  “Sure.” I ducked into the kitchen from the side entrance in the garage and grabbed the ice chest before taking it out there to him.

  “Thanks.” Ivan stood in the back of his truck, tying things down and securing them.

  He and Foster were going camping for spring break and planned to leave as soon as the truck was packed.

  “Should you really be going today?” I asked, after seeing it was four o’clock that afternoon. “Won’t it be dark by the time you get there?”

  “It’ll be fine.” Ivan positioned the ice chest and secured it with a strap. “We should get there in enough time to set up the tent before it gets dark. Then we’ll build a fire and ro
ast marshmallows. Do you want to join us?”

  “Me? Oh hell no.”

  Ivan threw his head back with a laugh. “Some things never change. You’re such a pretty boy.”

  “Why do you think I got kicked out of Boy Scouts?” I said, echoing his laugh. “It was on purpose. I didn’t want to do all that outdoorsy shit. I hope you and Foss have a great time.”

  “The divorce and then the move not long after have been hard on him.” Ivan sat on the tailgate of his truck. “He doesn’t show it, but I know he’s hurting, Jay. I feel like a horrible dad for putting him through all of this.”

  “Don’t do that to yourself, Vanya.” I leaned against the tailgate. “Marriages end. It wasn’t your fault Megan cheated and wanted a divorce.”

  “Maybe.” Ivan ran a hand over his short-cropped hair. “But I didn’t have to uproot his life by moving to a different state on top of it.”

  “I’m happy, Dad.” Foster set his backpack on the grass and came over to sit between us, leaning his head on Ivan’s shoulder. “I promise. I’ve made friends, and I have a teacher I really like. Stop worrying about me.”

  “Listen to the kid, little bro.”

  Ivan smiled and kissed the top of Foster’s head before sliding off the tailgate.

  “I like that one better than your other one,” I said, nodding to his new prosthesis. He’d finally been able to get it. “Looks like it fits better too.”

  “It does.” Ivan glanced down at it. “I can move a lot easier too and be more active.”

  “More active?” I asked. “You’re already like goddamn Captain America. How much more active can you be?”

  He grinned and put Foster’s backpack in the cab of the truck. “Come on, Foss. We should head out.”

  “You should go somewhere for the weekend, Uncle Jay,” Foster said, hopping off the tailgate and pushing it up to close it. “You need a break from work. I wish you’d come with us.”

  “Your uncle would shit himself the first time a bug landed on his arm,” Ivan called from the yard, as he headed back toward the house.

  “Dalbayob,” I yelled back to him.

  Moron.