Cutting Cords

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Cutting Cords Page 14

by Mickie B. Ashling


  “He’s lucky you were still awake.”

  “It was only two in the morning.”

  “Oh.”

  “I met Juliana, Cole. She’s very nice.”

  “She is.”

  “She told me that you proposed, so I guess congratulations are in order.”

  He felt his cheeks pink up. He was embarrassed to talk to Emily about Juliana, because he had no idea what Sloan had said to her about their recent encounter.

  “Um, I think she’s getting ahead of herself. We talked about an engagement.”

  “Oh well, maybe I’m the one who misunderstood. She seemed very happy.”

  “Have you had anything to eat?” Cole asked, eager to change the subject.

  “No.”

  “Would you like me to make you something? I’m going to heat up some of the kamameshi for myself.”

  “You’re having that for breakfast?”

  “Sure. It’s a meal, isn’t it?”

  “I guess,” Emily replied. “I think I’ll pass on the food. I doubt it’ll stay down.”

  “Okay.” Cole went to the refrigerator and pulled out the container where he’d stored the leftover rice dish. He spooned some into a bowl and put it in the microwave. As soon as it was done, he brought it to the table and sat down to eat.

  “Where’s Sloan?” he asked in between bites.

  “I’m not sure. I think he said he was going to take a shower.”

  “I just came from there. He wasn’t in the bathroom.”

  “Maybe he’s back in bed. Long night, you know?”

  “Pfft… his choice. I’m sure no one held his mouth open while he was drinking.”

  “Whatever. So, maybe you and Juliana can come visit me in Boston. I’d love to be able to return the favor.”

  “What favor? You mean staying here?”

  “Yes. It was really nice of you.”

  “No big deal, Emily.”

  “Well, I appreciate it. I wanted to see Sloan, but couldn’t afford the hotel, you know?”

  “I get it. You’re welcome to visit anytime you want.”

  “Thanks.”

  I COULD hear the droning of their voices, although I heard nothing of the content. I was still naked, shivering, and huddled under my blanket, completely freaked out over what had just happened.

  I’d lost it earlier this morning when Emily told me Juliana had announced an upcoming wedding. I couldn’t believe Cole had asked her to marry him when he had so many unresolved issues, primarily me.

  How could he? He wasn’t straight! The man was gay, and I’d bet my last bag of weed and my entire Queen collection on that fact. Yet, he was happily going to slink back into the closet and live the rest of his life as a straight man.

  But that wasn’t what had scared the life out of me and turned me into this shivering wreck. Nor was it the cutting I’d reached for in a desperate moment. I’d started to slash at my thighs, crying and having a meltdown over losing him… when he walked into the bathroom. I was sitting in the tub, in plain sight, and he ignored me, like I wasn’t even there.

  He took a piss and then went to brush his teeth while I sat watching my blood trickle down my thighs and come to rest in the white porcelain bathtub. Why the fuck didn’t he say anything? Was I that invisible? Was I still drunk or high and not processing what was happening? Was this a really bad dream?

  Maybe I was imagining all of it. My evening with Max, including all the bizarre sexual games he’d played with me. I looked over to my desk and saw the two books, the leatherbound BDSM-for-dummies that he’d asked me to read. My theory of having dreamt all of this wasn’t going to fly.

  So why the fuck didn’t Cole see me sitting naked in the bathtub with blood running down my legs? Why didn’t he turn around and call me all kinds of names? Sick fuck would have hurt, coming out of his mouth, but it would have been appropriate. My life was always about taking one step forward and two back.

  I’d had an amazing day yesterday, riding high on the success of the photo shoot, and an even more amazing night, with a famous man groveling at my feet. Yet, I’d ended up back in the same insecure hole I’d just climbed out of. Desperately unhappy because the man I was obsessed with didn’t want me. And that was the crux of the matter. Cole didn’t give a shit if I lived or died. I was nothing but a means of release, a live fuck doll. He wasn’t going to waste one minute of his energy on my sorry ass even if he had enjoyed plowing into it the other night.

  I sat up and pulled open the drawer of my nightstand. Thankfully, the bag of Xanax was still there, and I dry swallowed two pills, knowing they’d knock me for a loop. I didn’t give a shit. I had every intention of spending the rest of my day in a drugged-out haze.

  Emily stuck her head in the door. “Are you decent?”

  “I will be in a minute. Give me five, okay?”

  “Sure thing.”

  She shut the door and I got out of bed reluctantly. I’d forgotten about her. She was leaving today and I had to take her to Grand Central so she could catch her train. What the fuck…. How was I going to manage that, higher than a kite?

  I stumbled into the bathroom, locked the door, and stuck two fingers down my throat. The pills came up quickly; they hadn’t even dissolved yet, thank goodness. Barfing wasn’t one of my favorite things, but I couldn’t let Emily wander around looking for her train. I could always take more pills when I got back.

  I got into the shower and turned the water on full blast. I wanted it as hot as I could stand, hoping it would wake me up and knock some sense into me. I had to clear up this mystery. Cole should have seen me in the bathtub. It was physically impossible for him to have missed it. Maybe Emily’s theory about his eyesight was correct after all. The man needed some major glasses but was too goddamn vain to wear them; or perhaps I was really and truly going mad. This last theory seemed more likely.

  I got out of the shower and toweled off quickly. I sprayed my thighs with the antiseptic, noting that they looked awful. I’d done some pretty serious damage. Max’s theory about my never wanting to cut again was a joke. He had no idea what he was dealing with.

  The loosest pants I owned were a pair of sweats I’d inherited from Junior. They had the San Francisco Giants logo on them and were big and baggy, but I needed that right now. I couldn’t bear the thought of getting into denim and having it scrape my thighs. I topped them off with a T-shirt that had Freddie Mercury blaring into a microphone. I grabbed my iPhone, my earplugs, and walked into the kitchen.

  Cole was at the table with Emily, and they both looked up when I walked in.

  He grunted out a greeting and I responded with a nod. I stared at him, hoping I’d see some sign of recognition, something that would tell me he’d seen me, but there was no indication. Just those fucking blue eyes I was crazy about, looking sort of lost and sad. Or maybe I was imagining this as well.

  “You ready to go, Em?”

  “Now? It’s early, isn’t it?”

  “I thought we could grab some lunch first.”

  “Oh, that sounds good. Can we go to Hard Rock Cafe?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “How about a new Queen T-shirt?” she asked, hoping it might entice me.

  “Whatever.”

  She looked at me and shook her head slowly, knowing damn well something wasn’t right in my world. She knew me better than anyone else, and my signals were pretty easy to read. Every part of me screamed, but only Emily heard it.

  22

  THERE WERE a million tourists at Hard Rock. The music was blaring, which did nothing for our mutual hangovers.

  “This was a rotten idea, Em.”

  “I know,” she groaned. “I feel like there’s a conga line in my brain.”

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” I stood, grabbing her duffel with one hand and pulling her along with the other. We’d decided to bring all her stuff, so we could head to the train station right after lunch and not bother going back to the apartment. We stepped o
ut on Broadway, looking around and trying to figure out where we could hide that was less crowded but also inexpensive.

  “You want to try that pizza joint over there?” I pointed at another hole in the wall across the street. Pizza parlors in New York were deceptive as hell. They looked like dives but had amazing food most of the time.

  “Anywhere so long as it’s quiet,” Emily mumbled.

  We crossed the street, along with the throngs of people in Manhattan for the day. The restaurant was busy, but there was a small table for two in the back that we snagged, sinking into the chairs gratefully.

  “Do you want to split one?”

  “That’s fine,” she replied. “Get pepperoni.”

  This was another reason why Emily and I were such good friends. We both had a fondness for the flat bread with lots of grease. I went up to the counter and placed our order, took the coffee mugs, topped them off and brought them back to our table. This was not Hard Rock Cafe and no one was going to wait on us.

  “Here you go.”

  “Thanks, Sloan.”

  “Welcome.”

  We both drank our brew and settled in to wait for the pizza.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  “Uhh, yeah. Best friend here. Hello?”

  I laughed but it wasn’t happy. It was more a cross between a laugh and a sob, and I bit my lip before it turned into a full-fledged deluge. I blinked back tears, but she saw them and reached for my hand immediately.

  “Oh, Sloan,” Emily said. “Tell me.”

  “How can he marry her?”

  “Maybe he feels obligated.”

  “You don’t make a lifetime commitment because you’re fucking obligated!” I almost jumped out of my seat I was so upset.

  “Calm down or they’ll call the cops on us.”

  “What the fuck, Em? What the hell is he thinking?”

  “Sloan, are you sure you’re reading the signals right? Isn’t it possible you’re just imagining this?”

  “I could have imagined our first incident; we were both high on weed. But the second one was for real, Emily. Neither one of us had any booze or drugs in our system. He wanted me—fiercely and passionately—just as I wanted him. I did not imagine any of it, although I’m really starting to doubt my sanity.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I think I had a psychotic moment this morning.”

  “Get the fuck out.”

  “I mean it. I was in the bathtub and he walked in, pissed, brushed his teeth, and didn’t acknowledge my presence. He acted as if he were alone.”

  “That’s really interesting. Last night, when Juliana was at the apartment, I also noticed something odd.”

  “What?”

  “I was going to the kitchen to get a drink. He was in there with all the lights turned off. It was pitch black and the only reason I didn’t turn them on was because he was butt naked.”

  “How could you see if it was dark?”

  “There was a bit of light shining through the window. There was a moon out, last time I looked.”

  “So what’s the big deal? It’s his apartment and he should know where everything is without having to turn on a light switch.”

  “Have you ever made a sandwich in the dark? Have you done it with no lights on, from start to finish, including slicing a tomato?”

  “Huh?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Didn’t he realize you were watching?”

  “Apparently not.”

  “Emily, this is creepy.”

  “Or it may mean nothing, Sloan. It could be a quirk of his.”

  “No!” I was pretty sure something was wrong. “Do you think I should ask him?”

  “All kidding aside,” Emily said, “if he wanted you to know, he would have told you.”

  “Told me what?”

  “I don’t have a clue.”

  “Did you get a chance to use his computer at all?”

  “No. Why?”

  “His font is five times the normal size.”

  “Maybe he’s myopic and needs glasses.”

  “Why isn’t he wearing them? When he was a kid, he wore glasses. I remember he looked like a fucking geek. Who knew I’d fall in love with him years later?”

  Emily looked at me in shock. “Did you just say the L word?”

  “I meant lust, Emily. I’m in lust with him.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Shut up!”

  “Sloan…. “

  “Drop it, okay? What do we do about this eye thing?”

  “I don’t know.” Emily shrugged. “What do you want to do?”

  “Follow him. See where he goes all day while I’m at school.”

  “Sounds good, but if he catches you, he’ll have your balls.”

  “He won’t catch me, I’m sneaky.”

  “You’re a piece of work, Sloan, but let’s get back to this engagement. I really think you need to stop fantasizing about him. He’s obviously in love with Juliana.”

  “Why do you say obviously?”

  “Sloan, he’s been going out with her for a long time from what she said. He’s also asked her to marry him, for heaven’s sake. That’s why.”

  “Not good enough.”

  “Why the hell not?” She was starting to fidget. She moved forward, practically in my face and said, “You need to get your head out of your ass!”

  “That’s exactly what I told Cole.”

  “What? When?”

  “When he suggested that we carry on this fakakta affair.”

  “What affair? You never mentioned this before?”

  I let out a huge sigh and proceeded to tell all, from start to finish, including all the sexual encounters.

  “No wonder you’re so damned confused.”

  “Thank you! The man is queer.”

  “Or bi.”

  “Semantics, Emily! Bottom line, he sucks cock.”

  “Oh, eww.”

  “And rather well, I might add.”

  “Oh, fucking double ewwww!”

  I busted out with laughter. It was the first time today that I’d felt normal, and I just cracked up, looking at her face. She started to laugh as well, and soon we were both in tears.

  “Oh, my God,” she said, hiccupping through the words, “he will kill you if he ever finds out you’ve told me.”

  “Fuck him. He deserves to be outed.”

  “You don’t mean that, do you?”

  “Of course not,” I replied with the eye roll. “I’m not that heartless.”

  “I know you’re not,” she replied, much gentler this time. “Let’s eat, Sloan.”

  23

  COLE MET John at Del Posto restaurant on 10th Avenue. He would have preferred something lighter for lunch, but John had a hankering for Italian, and since he was the one being inconvenienced, Cole felt he owed him a fine meal of his choice. And no finer Italian existed around the Chelsea area.

  After perusing the menu in Braille, John settled on the insalata primavera with goat ricotta and herb blossoms as his first course. Cole opted for the same. For their second course, John chose the potato gnocchi with baccalà while Cole ordered the seared halibut with shaved vegetables.

  “So, Cole,” John said, settling back in his chair after the waiter took the orders. “What’s so important that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

  “I’ve asked Juliana to marry me.”

  “Congratulations, dear boy. I think we should order some wine with our lunch.”

  “If you’d like a glass, John, feel free to order whatever you want. I’ll pass.”

  Cole’s response was rather muted, and John picked up on it right away. “In that case, I’ll pass as well. You don’t seem very enthusiastic about this proposal, son.”

  “I guess I’m not.”

  John noticed that Cole was fidgeting with his utensils, and he stilled him by covering his nervous movements with his stead
y hand. “Why aren’t you?”

  “I’m not sure if she can handle my disability, John. Juliana seems almost threatened when I try to do things for myself. I think she’d prefer me helpless and dependent on her instead of self-sufficient and functional on my own.”

  “Those are fighting words, Cole. If that’s true, why would you consider her for your wife?”

  “We’ve been together for a long time, and since I need a wife and an heir, it may as well be her.”

  “All good reasons but not reason enough. Do you love her?”

  “I love her, but I’m no longer in love with her.”

  “What’s changed?”

  The waiter’s appearance stopped Cole from answering the question. He waited patiently as their salad plates were laid on the table. They looked almost too pretty to eat, but since neither man could really appreciate the plating technique, the test would be in the flavor. They began eating and after several bites Cole put his fork down.

  “John, I’m not sure who I am anymore.”

  “You’ve had some life-altering changes, Cole, there’s no doubt. However, I sense that this is more than the blindness we’re discussing.”

  Cole was torn between wanting to be honest, or continuing to lie to himself and please everyone in his family. He knew the reason he’d asked John to lunch was not to discuss Juliana, but to discuss Sloan, and his developing feelings for him. Saying it out loud was as good as admitting he was gay or bisexual. On the other hand, he knew he’d never find peace if he didn’t face this now. John was the most impartial and least judgmental person he knew.

  “Do you remember when I first started coming to see you?” Cole asked. “You made me take a battery of psychological tests, and you asked me point-blank if I’d ever had a same-sex encounter.”

  “I remember,” John replied seriously.

  “God, this is so difficult,” Cole whispered, folding and unfolding his napkin.

  “Cole….” John’s voice was kind but firm. “Spit it out.”

  “I’m attracted to Sloan and I’ve had sex with him.”

  “I see.”

  “Do you?” Cole asked. “Because I don’t see at all, and I don’t mean that as some kind of sick joke. Suddenly I’ve gone from being straight to gay, and I’m very confused.”

 

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