“I don’t need a supervisor,” she said.
“All right, fine,” Liam said with another smile.
Evan noted that the demeanor between them, like the hopeful smiles they both displayed, was back to the way it was before. Almost. There was still a careful way in which Liam watched his girlfriend, more than just his supervising moment for breakfast. Evan noticed as he carefully examined Sarah whenever she wasn’t looking. Liam’s eyebrows furrowed each time and sometimes he bit his lip. It was almost as if he was making sure she was still real, still here, and willing to be with him.
“You’ll be okay?” Liam asked her again.
Sarah shook her head playfully. “Yes. I’m fine.”
“Okay then. Hey, Bart?” Liam asked, changing his tone in a few seconds. Bart flinched from the table.
“Yeah?”
“Can you help me with recycling? I’m so sick of tripping over this.”
“Yeah, sure,” Bart said. He gave a glance to Sarah, who nodded.
“Don’t worry. Pancakes still need another five or ten minutes. You won’t miss anything special.”
For a moment, Evan could have sworn that Sarah winked at Bart, then looked to Evan and did the same thing.
“Sure,” Bart said again. Liam had already sauntered down the hallway that was now filled with the hollow sound of plastic bottles hitting the wooden floor. When Bart got off his chair, Evan held out his hand. Bart grabbed it, making Evan’s pulse jump with another moment of recognition. Bart gave him a quick kiss on the mouth, before Liam groaned again from down the hall.
“No one is helping me,” Liam moaned melodramatically. Another hollow sound of a bottle hitting the floor, along with the metal ping of tin cans. “And after I’ve given so much.”
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Bart said. He let go of Evan’s fingers slowly and then waved again as he jogged down the hallway. The door slammed behind both of them in a few moments after more sounds of beer bottles and tin cans hit the ground.
“So,” Sarah said, looking at Evan.
“So,” he mirrored, leaning in on the kitchen table facing her. “Do you need help?”
“You two seem happy,” Sarah said, ignoring his question.
Evan felt his face blush. “Yeah, you could say that.”
“Good things come to those who wait?”
Evan rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure, if you can believe in the platitudes like that.”
Sarah smirked. She turned around from the pan as the second last batch began to simmer and bubble, the black spatula still in her hand. She gave him another one of the sympathetic smiles from before. “You know, you’re a good man, Evan.”
“Thank you?” he said, his voice dipping up at the end. He grabbed the cup of coffee he had drained moments earlier for something to do with his hands.
“I mean it,” Sarah said. She walked to the percolator and grabbed the carafe full of coffee. She filled up Evan’s cup, leaving the cream on the table for him.
“Thanks,” Evan said.
“I can see the way you look at Bart. Always could.” Sarah flipped one of the pancakes over and then smiled to herself. “I remembered that party when I first met Bart. I thought he was a nice guy, sort of shy, but I couldn’t blame him for that considering what he had gone through. Then you came in the room. And it was like a whole different person emerged.”
Evan watched as the cream in his coffee diluted it and turned it a lighter brown. He felt his cheeks redden again as he stirred his spoon.
“Was I the only person who couldn’t see this relationship happening?” he asked, feeling aggravated. He took a sip of his coffee, burning his tongue in the process. He could feel Sarah’s sympathetic eyes on him again. He took a breath and tried to articulate what he really meant—and why, in spite of all the good things that could have happened, it still felt malignant to him. “It feels odd, you know, that everyone else had plotted out this fairy tale romance for the two of us. I did like Bart then, at that party. How could I not? But it just took us a while. We couldn’t rush it. We had to do it on our own terms.”
“There is nothing wrong with that, with waiting until the time is right.”
“Yeah, I know. But with everyone plotting and planning it out, it sort of starts to feel as if whatever Bart and I have is not ours. You know?”
The thought that had crept up on Evan slowly had finally come out of his mouth. He felt better, letting it go, as if the doubt could no longer hurt him if someone else knew. But it still felt weird to imagine. If Liam had thought about Bart and Evan together for so long, why didn’t he do something? When he did do something, why did it have to be so covert? Switching the beer too, that was an odd thing to do even for Liam.
“It’s yours, Evan. Don’t let anyone else try to take something from you that you deserve,” Sarah said, her voice strong. She flipped over another pancake. “But I do know what you mean. It’s hard.”
“What really happened between you two?” Evan asked again after some time had passed. He could tell that Sarah changed around Liam. Not in a bad way, not like bad domestic situations manifest. But in the way that people change around all people they care about. You hold certain opinions back to spare them and you coddle them more than you would anyone else. Evan knew he wasn’t going to get an honest depiction of whatever fight there was out of Liam because fighting hurt his pride. But Sarah, if the breakup had happened, she had been the one to end—and then mend it again.
She rolled her eyes a bit and sighed. She flipped over the final pancakes and then turned the oven off for them to simmer in the remaining heat. “You know how he is,” Sarah said.
“He collects strays?” Evan suggested.
“He believes the platitudes,” she said, motioning with her spatula. “I love him. Don’t get me wrong. But he believed in the fairy tales of a wedding more than I did. And I thought that was my job.”
“How so?”
Sarah put her hand on her forehead. She took a while, gathering her thoughts, and then they all came forth in a burst of laughs and aggravated sighs. “The whole thing is so stupid in retrospect. I know it is. But the fight was like a small microcosm for our entire relationship.”
“Okay,” Evan said. “How so?”
“I wanted to plan part of the wedding. I had gone to all this work getting information about photographers, listing their price, and figuring out their availability. I emailed him the stock portfolios—everything. But after two days of hearing nothing back from him about this, I realized he had already gone and booked the photographer. Without asking me. Then I realized he had finalized the meals and almost everything else to do with the reception, too. When I asked him about it, he said he didn’t want to worry me.” She paused, crossing her arms over her chest. “I know it was done for me and that he was thinking about me. There had been a huge fuck-up with my dress and I had gotten really, really upset one night. Said I was sick of planning a wedding that was going to be ruined by other people. Dramatic, I know. But that’s the thing. I was being overdramatic and he started to treat me like a china doll. He did everything without consulting me because he didn’t want to upset me even more.”
Evan nodded. He knew Liam was the type to avoid bad situations by fixing them himself. It was why he had had an intervention for Evan and why he had taken Bart into his place. He didn’t like people to feel bad, and he thought he needed to carry the world. Sometimes, he was right and his plans worked out. Evan and Bart, separately, were cases of success stories. But his need to help was overwhelming sometimes and Evan could see how it could go bad.
“In a partnership,” Evan began, “you need consensus.”
Sarah raised her eyes. She smiled. “Exactly, Evan. I told you, you were a good man.”
He smiled again, holding his coffee in his hands for warmth. “What happened next? Was that the reason you ended it?”
Sarah’s eyes creased with embarrassment. “Yes, it was. I know it was stupid and overdramatic, but I wa
nted to feel as if I had some control. I told him I was going to be involved or there was no more wedding. Then he ordered the invitations the next day and I fucking lost it. I walked out. Gave him back the ring and said I was done accepting things like this.”
Sarah held out her hand in front of her. The ring that Evan had seen ages ago when Liam first bought it shimmered on her finger.
“Clearly, something happened,” Evan said. “Not all was lost.”
“Everything that is not given is lost,” Sarah said. She stared at the pancakes, flipping them over again and onto a plate before she shook her head again. “Sorry. That’s a quote I heard years ago. All that is not given is lost. It’s something I try to remind myself so I don’t stay silent when I know I should speak up.”
She paused again, as if trying to figure out the next step of events in her mind. The huge chunk of time that Evan was not privy to between Liam and Sarah was something that he knew he could never fully understand. Even as Sarah went on to describe how she ran into Liam on the subway the night before, just as he was about to stay at a friend’s place so that Bart and Evan could be alone, Evan knew that he would never be able to see that moment. He would never hear the exact words that Liam said to Sarah to make things better and what exactly changed her mind. Evan knew that something happened on that subway, enough to make them look at one another with new hope in their eyes and a new plan to go ahead with in their lives. The ring was back on her finger and her smiles were wide again. But the missing chunk of time would always bug Evan. It was the private space that all couples had that could never be violated. Everyone looked different to the world than how they looked to their significant other.
The envy that Evan had for their moment of reconciliation was small in comparison to what he knew he felt for Bart—and had felt for him all along. In the same way that Evan would never see what happened between Liam and Sarah to change their minds, Evan knew that Liam would never see what had happened between himself and Bart. There was a kind of relief in that. No matter what happened in the future, no matter how many tricks were pulled or stories that were told about that night, only Bart and Evan would know what had happened.
“So everything’s okay now,” Sarah said with sigh.
Evan looked up from his cup of coffee, now half done. He realized that in his other hand, he was holding the medallion around his neck. “And you’re happy?”
“Yes,” Sarah said with another smile. “I’m very happy indeed.”
“That’s all that matters.”
“Yeah,” Sarah said. “I think so.”
“Well,” Evan said. “I’m really happy for you.”
Sarah nodded and raised her own coffee cup in a silent cheer. Evan mirrored her, and nodded as they both took a drink.
“You know,” Sarah said, leaning back against the counter. “I heard once that couples who made it past the wedding planning would learn to deal with any fight that would come up in the future relationship.” She laughed a bit. “I think Liam and I are really prepared now.”
“Really prepared for what?” Liam asked from the hallway. There was a sudden shuffle of feet and coats coming on and off as Liam and Bart made their way into the apartment again.
“Nothing, nothing,” Sarah said in a playful tone. “I was just telling Evan here that you didn’t need to treat me like a princess any more than I needed to depend on you to be my prince. We’re both people, Mr. Beckett, and I want to be your partner. Not anything more—and not anything less.”
Liam smiled with a small pained expression in his face. Evan knew that it wasn’t because he didn’t agree with what Sarah had said. He did. Evan could see how much he agreed with the way he held her and nodded at the remark. But the pain came from loss, and what he had almost not been able to give.
“Thank you,” Liam said again, throwing his arms around Sarah’s waist and kissing her cheeks. “These pancakes look fantastic.”
“They do, huh?” she said with a smile. “The chocolate makes all the difference.”
“I guess,” Liam said, “I can agree to that.”
When Liam had proposed to Sarah, Evan remembered the sound of the whole place applauding. Evan knew that the applause for the proposal was half the problem with their relationship. The audience always wanted too much and expected too much of intimacy. Then, Liam began to have those same expectations. But now, in the kitchen, there was barely any noise other than the small rushing of footprints and chair legs against the tile floor of the kitchen. It was unnerving, almost. But nice.
Evan knew the exact feelings that Sarah had talked about, the ones that had caused so many issues before. He almost wished there had been more time to tell her. The fairy tale weddings, even if they had never been depicting two men tying the knot, had always gotten under Evan’s skin. These life events had trajectories of birth, marriage, family, death—they had responsibility attached to them. That was why it was so easy to fuck a guy at the club. The next day, you didn’t have to worry about him calling. You didn’t have to worry about the fuck was real or not. It happened and you moved on.
But now, though Evan was happy—so happy he could figuratively burst with emotion—seeing Bart was complicated now. On one hand, he watched as his good friend who he loved dearly took his shoes off again and joked with Liam in the hallway. Then in the back of his mind, he wondered what would happen with them next. Would they have sex in one another’s bed? Would they move in together? They had known one another for years, said I love you—already the relationship was going so fast for Evan. They were now running right alongside Liam and Sarah, who were agreeing to take it slower this time, to be more collaborative. Those two were working out their relationship at the same time Evan was beginning to realize he was in a relationship.
“Hey,” Bart said when he came into the room.
Sarah nodded to him, but it was clear the greeting was meant for Evan. Bart’s cheeks were red from the slight cold and the effort expended to sort the recycling downstairs. Evan was sure that Liam had recapped the same situation that Evan had just heard from Sarah, but he didn’t want to ask. He was okay with the talk of their fight fading out, because it was not their business anymore.
When Bart sat next to Evan at the table, he leaned closer to Evan, and then nudged him with his shoulders.
“I thought leaving you with Sarah would be okay,” Bart joked. “She usually plays well with other. But you’re kind of…quiet. Are you okay?”
Evan lifted his eyes—and when he saw Bart again, the worries he had been holding inside of him fell apart. He saw Bart’s face, his red cheeks, and his hair that he had held in his hands and tugged. Evan found his mind wandering to the stars that they had watched the night Sarah and Liam had got engaged. A marriage, a relationship, or whatever this was between the two of them didn’t have to be big and daunting. In reality, it was just like having a sleepover with your best friend. An extended one. A better one, Evan insisted, because they would not fall into the same mistakes their parents or peers had made.
Evan smiled and he took Bart’s hand. Bart squeezed back and smiled with relief.
“I’m great,” Evan said. “Just hungry, I guess.”
“Yes,” Liam said. He placed a hand on Sarah’s shoulders, and then Sarah took a step forward under his arm. She had already moved all the pancakes to one large plate that they could all eat from and was in the process of stacking the other ones for their impromptu breakfast. Evan looked at Liam and Sarah in front of him, and then Bart by his side. It felt like looking into a mirror, into a future projection—but it was good. It felt safe. The Saint Valentine medallion bounced against Evan’s chest all of a sudden, along with his heartbeat.
Bart leaned close to Evan and nuzzled his cheek. Sarah did the same with Liam, just as they were pulling out cutlery. Liam laughed as he grabbed a stray chocolate chip from the counter and tossed it into his mouth.
“Okay, I’m very hungry and I want to sit down to this wonderful meal,” Liam beg
an again.
“Thank you, Sarah,” Evan and Bart both murmured, to which Liam raised his hand in agreement. Sarah began to pile up plates as Evan cleaned off the kitchen table and got more chairs around. Bart got the butter and syrup. By the time they all sat down again, Liam had set out more coffee and the entire place looked great. As great as it could look for Liam’s haphazard mess.
“I’ll get the stove fixed soon,” Liam assured them all. “And do laundry and vacuum. Soon.”
“Famous last words,” Evan teased. He turned to Sarah, who winked at him.
“Well, we have a busy morning ahead of us,” Liam mentioned. “And a couple busy months.”
“A wedding to plan,” Bart added, exchanging looks with Liam and Sarah. “It’s a lot of work.”
“Nah, not too much,” Liam said. He paused, and then looked at Sarah. She nodded and squeezed his hand under the table.
“I think we’ll be fine,” Sarah agreed, taking a small bite of her pancake. “I mean, it’s not like we’re planning for two weddings.”
When Evan and Bart both paused, Liam let out a small laugh. They exchanged glances with one another as Evan’s heart pounded in his chest.
“Not yet,” Liam said. “Not yet.”
“Thank God, huh?” Evan said, giving a small smirk to Bart.
“Something like that,” Bart teased.
When Evan leaned forward and kissed Bart on the mouth, he tasted syrup and felt their hands link together under the table. Liam buzzed with more predictions, but Evan tuned him out. He decided that for now, he wouldn’t care about the future—so long as Bart was in it.
THE END
ABOUT FRANCIS GIDEON
Francis Gideon has pulled his weight as a student reporter at both Arthur Newspaper and Absynthe Magazine, where he covered local writers before he decided to become one. When he's not editing his sister's MA thesis, he's busy with his dogs and his boyfriend at the local park. If he can't sleep, he's usually hiding in his attic bedroom and writing crime fiction until the sun comes up. He lives in Canada, drinks too much coffee, and has an unshakable obsession with NBC's Hannibal.
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