Mate Me, Keep Me

by Angelique Voisen

  His brother invited him to the baptism of his daughter and Jacob finally said yes to the family he hadn’t seen in months. I could still recall the hesitant way he asked if I wanted to come and unthinkingly, I said I would. How the hell would I manage that, if I hadn’t gone out of my apartment in years?

  Lumbering into the hall and dining room, something felt missing, but I couldn’t put my finger on it at first. Jacob read the paper by the kitchen counter, coffee mug to his left hand, a space plate for me to his right. My nose told me the brown paper bags near him held jam and waffles.

  “Morning,” Jacob greeted, sounding apprehensive, nervous almost.

  I’m about to ask him what was wrong, when it struck me what felt different about the apartment. Without the framed photographs, the white walls looked bare and empty. An invisible fist clutched at my heart, my lungs. I couldn’t draw breath for a couple of seconds. Seeing the walls without my life with Jack captured forever in photos—felt like something important had been ripped from within me.

  A warning growl tickled out of my chest before I could stop myself. “What the fuck did you do? You have no right, Jacob.”

  Jacob stubbornly stuck out his chin. “I do. You said this is my home too. Do you have any idea how it makes me feel, waking up to the sickening photos of Jack and you every day?”

  “Sickening?” I thundered, clenching my hands to fists. Calm the fuck down. Listen to what he has to say. Except patience and logic eluded me, because how dare Jacob do a little interior decorating without consulting me? “Why now?”

  “Do you remember what you called me last night?”

  I stared at him, frowning. My temper started to escalate. Air. I needed some fucking air or something to destroy, punch and vent my anger on. Walking away didn’t seem like the best option though, because what would that make me? A coward and this was one fight I wouldn’t back away from.

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Jacob gave me a grim smile. “Before you went to sleep, you called me beloved Jack.”

  I froze, mouth on the verge of saying something I’d regret, but I pressed my lips together instead. Did I call Jack’s name instead of his? Christ. I didn’t mean to. Jacob should know that, but I can’t deny sometimes Jacob looked so startling like Jack it made it hard to tell them apart. Taking the pictures away had been part of my long-term plan, but not yet, not now when my relationship with Jacob hadn’t stabilized.

  “Do you have anything to say?” Jacob demanded, getting off the kitchen stool.

  “I planned on fixing that. The photos, but not this soon,” I admitted, still riled up. “You forget, human. This is my home, my rules.”

  Jacob blew out a breath. “Well, enjoy your fucking fortress of solitude, but I’m done.”

  “What?” I neared Jacob, but he didn’t back away.

  Waltzing past me, Jacob avoided eye contact completely.

  Snarling, I followed him into our bedroom. I shouldn’t have said those words, but I act without thinking when I’m mad. Jacob’s seen me at my worst. That’s not right either. All Jacob’s seen is my bad side, never my good. Speechless, I watched Jacob gather his things. Everything still fit in that ugly black duffle bag he brought in two week ago.

  “That’s it? You don’t even want to talk about this?” I asked with a calm I didn’t feel.

  Maybe a part of me accepted surrender. Why fight for something, for someone, I never had in the first place? Jacob would slip past my fingers and all I could do was watch him leave.

  My bear wanted me to do whatever it took to stop Jacob. Tie him down. Wring all that defiance out of him. Make sure he’d never consider leaving us again. Never take ‘no’ for an answer.

  Jacob would become a fleeting dream, a chance I botched, but he deserved better.

  “Pat, how can I be with someone who doesn’t even think I’m a real person?” Jacob ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

  “You’re wrong.”

  “Am I? When you look at me, all you see is Jack.” He shouldered his pack, expression set.

  “Where are you going?” Christ, I sounded pathetic, needy almost.

  “To my brother’s place, I think it’s about time I faced my past.” Jacob moved forward, frowning when I used my body to block his path. “Are you going to stop me?”

  Jacob isn’t completely lost to me. I knew with the right words it wouldn’t be hard to convince him to give us another shot, but all I am is toxic to him. He’s fucking wrong. I see Jack sometimes in him, but I see him too, despite what he believed.

  Jack let me dote on him, never hesitated to ask for my help, but Jacob is the exact opposite. Defiance was written across his skin, in every bone of his body, and it was addictive, being drawn to someone who’ll shove back when pushed to the corner. Jacob is a fighter. Each time we kiss, he tasted of life, but I’m a dead husk, incapable of life.

  “One kiss before you go?”

  Jacob didn’t argue or tell me to fuck myself, although he has every right to. Standing on tiptoe, he grabbed the back of my neck and kissed me. I could almost taste the salt of the tears that slipped from the corner of his eyes and I know Jacob is the kind of man who never cries. He tasted of sadness and sorrowful farewells.

  Selfish bastard that I was, I clung to the taste and heat of him as long as I could. Pulling away first, Jacob pressed his forehead against mine, expression full of anguish.

  “Convince me to stay, Pat. Tell me things will be different.”

  I choked on my words.

  “I thought so.”

  Stung, I stepped back so he could walk past me. Jacob glanced over his shoulder, seeing me following him. He yanked the front door open, not commenting on the fact I followed him out to the foyer—the last threshold I won’t cross and Jacob knew it. His eyes dared me to do it, to step into the elevator, to follow him out of the building and confront the world I’ve ignored for years. I felt foolish, holding out my hand to him, hoping he understood my silent plea.

  What the fuck? I knew he was better off without me, but I still clung to the fact he’d make a decision for us? Jacob was right on so many levels. I needed serious work.

  The doors of the elevator hissed open. Before they closed, Jacob pressed his extra key card on my outstretched palm.

  “Take care of yourself, Pat,” he said softly.

  Breathing hard, I bowed my head, conceding defeat. “Thank you for loving me, Jacob.”

  The doors closed and I stared at them for a couple of seconds, before heading back in. The place still held lingering traces of Jacob. His scent, the pieces of furniture or décor he touched and rearranged. I retraced the path he’d taken when he walked out, over and over, until my stomach growled, reminding me it’s lunch time and I’ve been doing this for hours. As if I could rewind the events of the past.

  After lunch, I tried to do some work, simple things like answering emails, but I couldn’t focus. Jacob only left a couple of hours ago, but the apartment had been suddenly leeched of life. I started to miss everything about him—his rare laughs, troubled smile, and especially his talented and sharp tongue.

  I found all of the framed photographs in the closet, along with a hastily scribbled note.

  I read the note out loud. “I hope you’ll forgive me for this one day, Pat.”

  My fingers twitched, eager to put all the frames back in order on the wall. That way, I could fix the mess Jacob started, but that felt wrong too.

  “I fucked it up, baby. I’m so sorry,” I whispered to Jack, but he longer felt real. I might see his face in Jacob, but I couldn’t remember his personality or mannerisms anymore.

  The phone rang in the background, but I didn’t bother answering it, knowing it’s not Jacob. The nearest frame showed Jack and younger, naïve me in our matching wedding tuxes, laughing.

  Fuck. It must have taken a lot of guts for Jacob to peel these off the wall without destroying any of them. If our positions were reversed how would I react? The exact op
posite—I would tear at the frames to reach the pictures and shred them to indistinguishable pieces.

  Closing my eyes, I shut the closet door, turning my back on the photographs. I pulled out my cell phone, and scrolled through the photos I’ve taken of Jacob, when he wasn’t looking. Asleep, in motion, Jacob looked so fucking perfect it hurts. I dialed the private number of the therapist I’d ignored seeing for months and he picked up right away.

  “Mr. Singer, I’m surprised to hear from you.”

  I licked my lips. Small steps, Jacob said. “Dr. Miller, I’d like to schedule a home appointment.”

  Chapter Five

  Jacob

  “Jacob? Did you hear what I said?” I blinked at my now turned cold mug of coffee and then back to my older brother, Rick.

  Only a moment ago, Rick had been dressed in boxers and a white shirt, but now stood in a suit and tie, frowning at me. Did time go by without me knowing it? This happened all too often these days and when my mind drifted, it revolved around my brief stint with the army or Pat.

  A stronger man would have strapped on a pair of balls and gritted his teeth, able to endure anything. What right did I have, accusing Pat of being a coward? I put away my uniform when it all became too much. Walked out on Pat and never gave him another chance to explain.

  “I heard you had dinner with Mom and Dad yesterday. How did it go?” Rick asked.

  Over his shoulder, his wife, Mindy, hummed under her breath while she fixed lunch for their kids before they headed for school. I envied their domestic arrangement, how they complimented and fit each other. I’d hoped returning to my hometown would help me find answers to what I would do next in my life. Seeing my old high school and revisiting the places I frequented growing up filled me with nostalgia at first, but the same restlessness that prompted me to enlist in the army followed. There was nothing for me back here.

  I can’t stay here long. I don’t belong here, but if not here, where, with Pat? A week passed since I moved out of his apartment. I couldn’t go back there, not after the messy way I left things. Besides, Pat had my number and email. I had expected him to flood my mailbox with messages, but there hadn’t been a single one. Pat looking miserable and standing in the elevator lobby replayed over and over in my head. “Thank you for loving me, Jacob.” Those simple words packed such a punch. Even in the privacy of my bedroom, it was Pat I fantasized about while I fucked my hand.

  Rick expelled a breath. What were we talking about? Parents. Right.

  “It went better than expected.” Dreading the meeting was an understatement, because I was fucking terrified, afraid of admitting defeat and never being able to meet their expectations. My absence must have made them change their minds, because my dad told me to take my time. I regarded Rick. “You talked to them, didn’t you?”

  Rick shared a look with Mindy. “We were worried about you, Jacob, especially with the last text you sent me before Christmas.”

  I winced. I sent that text before answering Pat’s online ad. Broke, too stubborn to go home, and with the memory of the desert fresh in my head, I believed I dug myself a hole too deep to get out of.

  “Well, I for one am glad to see you’re doing much better, Jacob,” Mindy said.

  “Living alone must have done you some good, eh?” Rick checked his watch. “I’m going to be late for work. I hear you’re dropping by Dad and Mom’s place to pick up some of your old things?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll see you later at dinner then.” After Rick left, I stared at my half-empty coffee cup. My niece and nephew, Jessica and Jordan, came into the kitchen moments later, grabbing their lunches, kissing their mom on the cheek, before running out to catch the bus. Everything around this household seemed to revolve around movement, with the exception of me.

  “Any plans for today?” Mindy asked, joining me by the kitchen counter. I’d always liked Rick’s wife. She’d always played the role of the older sister I never had. If I weren’t gay, I think I would have a crush on her.

  “I’m stopping by Mr. Turner’s auto repair shop to say I’m accepting the job. There’s also an apartment for rent I want to look at.”

  “Jacob, you know you can stay here for as long as you like.”

  “I know.” I patted her hand. “But I need to stop relying on others for a change.”

  She regarded me with grave brown eyes and said softly, “You’ve changed, Jacob.”

  “Did I? I don’t feel anything’s changed.”

  “Promise me one thing. Take it slow. We know the desert changed you. Not a lot of boys come back the same.”

  I knew what she meant. In a way, I’m one lucky bastard compared to some of the brothers I kept in contact with. “I’ll see you guys at dinner then.”

  Once out of the house, I decided a walk would do me some good. I knew why my brother picked this neighborhood. The houses, neatly trimmed lawns, and sidewalks looked like the exact replica of our old house, before our parents sold it.

  “Morning, Jacob. Do you have a busy day today?” Rick’s neighbor, a widower in her sixties, Mrs. Vaughn greeted me about to stoop over to get her paper. Swiping up the bundle, I handed it to her. “Would you like some freshly baked scones?”

  I don’t mind chatting over scones, fresh jam and tea, but I had things to do. Getting job and my own place would take me a step closer to independence. When things got back to normal, I’d date and somehow find a way to move on, because Pat had obviously beat me to the punch.

  “Sorry, Mrs. Vaughn, can we do a rain check?”

  “Of course, dear.” She smiled.

  Hands in the pocket of my jacket, I walked to the town center. Who am I kidding? I lied. A job and paying for my own bills and apartment mattered, but more importantly, they kept me busy. Forgetting Pat would be the harder task. Like Jack’s ghost, Pat made it difficult for me to forget the brief time we had. Could I even call what we had a relationship?

  We lived together after all, like a couple. Pat tried his best. I knew telling him he hadn’t been capable of seeing me as a real person was the most damaging blow I could give him. Pat couldn’t give me an inch, but I didn’t try hard either. In a way, I became terrified of where we were going. Pat couldn’t let go his old love, but I was afraid of being consumed by his misplaced love too.

  Sighing, I finished up the errands of the day.

  By the time I reached my parent’s place it was dark out. Shivering in my jacket, I walked up the sidewalk leading to their modest single-story house. As I noticed the black Ferrari parked by the curb it gave me pause. A tingle shot down my spine. No. It couldn’t be, yet no one around these parts could afford a car like that.

  Heart thumping, I practically ran up to the porch of the house. Hands clammy, I hesitated before turning the knob. I heard voices inside. My dad’s demanding voice, melding in with my mom’s quiet one, and a familiar deep voice I never again expected to hear. This was all a dream, wasn’t it?

  “He’s here,” Pat said.

  “What?” my dad asked, sounding annoyed at being interrupted.

  “I can smell him, standing outside the front door.”

  “That is creepy,” my dad muttered.

  I turned the knob, pushing my way. In the living room, Pat’s broad back was turned to me, but when he twisted his head to peer at me, electricity slammed into my chest and groin. Staring at him dumbly, I opened my mouth, ready to admonish him, but no words came out.

  Out of his apartment and dressed in a well-fitted designer suit that all but screamed money, it was hard to remember this was the same reclusive millionaire who couldn’t step out of his penthouse suite. He rose to his feet smoothly and I couldn’t help notice the tiny details, like the fact he’d recently gotten a hair cut. It felt odd, seeing him in the flesh, in my parent’s home.

  “Jacob,” he said, practically growling out the word.

  Saying my name was all he needed to do to tie my stomach to knots. I suppressed a shudder and a knowing smile curved hi
s sinfully tempting mouth, lips I missed kissing. Walking up to him, I pressed my cold hands against his cheeks, loving the familiar and rough texture of his stubble. He leaned his forehead against mine, hand banding around my waist.

  Breathing hard, he didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds. Time came to a halt. We could have been anywhere on the planet. I saw nothing and no one else but him.

  “Pat. You’re here.” I felt like an idiot incapable of forming real sentences. “You came.”

  “I did.”

  “Why?”

  “I missed you so fucking much, Jacob.” His pupils turned to a wild shade of gold, all fire and hunger. Christ, I missed that arrogant look that all but screamed mine. “I came here to take you back.”

  I drew away, letting out a breathy laugh. “Do you think it’s that easy to fix a problem?”

  “No.” Pat took something from the inside of his coat. I frowned at the ziplock bag of ashes he handed to me. Lying on top was a vaguely familiar bronze key.

  “What’s this?”

  “The past.” Pat smiled, showing me his sharp canines. “I sold my penthouse suite. Those are all that remain of Jack.”

  I nearly dropped the bag, stunned. “Fuck. You’re kidding.”

  He let out a rumbling growl. “This isn’t a joke, Jacob.”

  I stared at the bag. My hands started to shake, remembering the fury I felt when I tore all those framed pictures from his wall. It made me feel immensely guilty after. I couldn’t imagine how much it took out of Pat, burning up those photos to prove he’d moved on.

  Pat clasped the back of my neck, bringing me so close his lips nearly touched my left ear. “You once told me to prove it, to say fuck the world and simply do it. What will you do now, Jacob? I’ve broken away from the shackles chaining me down.”

  “I—” I clenched my hands into fists.