The Letter Z

by Marie Sexton

  I know exactly what I want to say. I always have a hard time with the words, but this time, I make myself say them. I take a deep breath and force them up out of my chest, make them take form. “I love you so much, Zach.” It comes out pretty quiet, but I know by how still he is that he hears me. And then I say somethin’ else. Somethin’ I hadn’t planned on. “Please don’t leave me.”

  There’s a moment then—just a heartbeat—while he absorbs it all.

  And then his arms are ’round me, squeezing me so tight I almost can’t breathe. I can’t keep the tears out of my eyes. I hate how I always seem to be cryin’ in front of him, but he doesn’t let on that he knows. He kisses my forehead and says in a gentle voice, “Angelo, I don’t understand how you can be so smart, and still be so damn stupid.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Don’t you know by now? There’s nothing and nobody in this world that could make me leave you. You’re my whole life, angel. And I like it that way.”

  Some of that dread that’s been in my gut all day goes away when he says that, but the lump in my throat gets even bigger. I wait until I can keep my voice from shaking to answer. “He’s everything I’m not.”

  “But you’re everything I want, Angelo. Not him.”

  I’m everything he wants? A high school dropout with nothing to offer? I try to believe him. I try to understand how he could choose me.

  “Matt and Jared will be here in less than an hour,” he says gently. He knows I’ll want to get my shit together before they show up. No way I want either of them seein’ me like this. Zach nudges me. “Let’s go take a shower.” He knows me so well.

  “Okay,” is all I can say.

  I let him pull me up from the bed and lead me into the bathroom. He starts the shower, pushes me gently into it, and then gets in behind me. He wraps his arms ’round me. I close my eyes, lean back against him, and try to let it all go. I try to let all my anger and all my tears wash away in that steaming hot water.

  I don’t know how long we stand like that, him just holding me. After a bit, his hands start to move on me. He washes my back, then slowly moves down my chest, over my stomach, between my legs. The next thing I know, he’s turning me, pushing me against the wall. I keep my eyes closed and let him lead. I realize he’s on his knees in front of me when I feel his lips on my stomach. And then his tongue moves over my slit, and I have to grab onto him to keep my knees from giving out.

  He said “no sex”, and I’m wonderin’ if I should stop him. Not sure it’s really right to let him do this. Not sure it’s fair for me to take more.

  But then his mouth closes over me, and I stop wonderin’. I stop thinkin’ at all. For the first time since my eyes opened that mornin’, my mind shuts off, and it’s such an amazing relief. No fear, no worries, no shame. No ridiculous scenarios playing like a bad movie in my head. It’s all lost to that silent, sensual oblivion. There’s nothing but me and him and pure physical sensation.

  The tile wall is cold and smooth against my back and the water is scalding hot on my chest. My hands are tangled in Zach’s thick brown hair, and his mouth is warm and sweet and giving. Always giving.

  Because that’s what Zach does. One of his hands slides up the inside of my thigh, then I feel his fingers, slick and soapy, pushing against my rim.

  I moan a little, and it surprises him enough that he actually stops sucking. I don’t make much noise during sex. I don’t know why not.

  Never even thought ’bout it ’til Zach told me. But I know how much he loves it when somethin’ slips out. He says in a low, husky voice, “Oh God, Ang, please do that again.”

  I don’t even have a chance to think about it. As soon as he says it, his mouth slides back down my length, and his fingers push past my rim— but only a little. It’s just the tiniest bit of penetration, and he knows it won’t be enough. He keeps sucking, keeps moving the very tip of his finger in and out, teasing me until I clench my fingers in his hair and manage to whisper, “More, Zach.”

  “Anything,” he says quietly, and then his mouth is on me again, and his fingers slide slowly into me. It feels so good, I really do moan then, and so does he. His fingers massage me, and his tongue circles the head of my cock and flicks over that spot just below my slit. I can’t help but grab him tighter and pull him further down my shaft as his fingers move deeper. Then he touches that wonderfully sensitive spot inside, and that’s all it takes. I may even cry out when I come this time. I don’t know for sure. All I know are his fingers filling me and that wonderful, thoughtless release. He lets me hold his head as far down my shaft as he can go, all the way to end.

  He never stops giving.

  Even still shakin’ from my climax, I think ’bout that. He always gives. Do I really give him anything? Is it possible that lettin’ him give is the same as givin’ back? I wish I knew.

  I feel him stand up, and then his soft hands on each side of my face.

  “Ang?” I open my eyes and look into his. They’re gorgeous blue, and I can see by lookin’ in ’em that he’s worried. But I can see how much he cares ’bout me too. “Ang, please tell me we’re okay.”

  We love each other so much. Why did I think that wasn’t enough? I put my arms ’round his neck and pull him down to kiss me. “Zach,” I say, “we’re absolutely perfect.”

  WE HAVE dinner with Matt and Jared. Things start out awkward. They’re walkin’ on eggshells, glancin’ at us sideways, obviously worried we’re gonna start fightin’ any moment. But it doesn’t take them long to figure out that we’re not. If anything, we’re probably gonna embarrass ’em by tearin’ each other’s clothes off right there in the restaurant. Dinner ends up bein’ fun.

  We get back to the hotel, and there, in the bar closest to the elevators, is Jonathan.

  He’s obviously been waitin’ for us, and we stop short when he approaches us. I’m sure as hell not happy to see him, but I am a little bit glad to see the bruise I left on the side of his face. Still, I can’t believe he’s come, and I’m hopin’ like hell he’s not gonna do somethin’ to fuck things up between Zach and I again.

  Like he’s readin’ my mind, he says, “I’m not here to cause trouble.”

  I’m thinkin’ he might cause it whether he means to or not, and I’m tryin’ hard to keep my temper in check. Zach steps in front of me—whether it’s to protect me or Jonathan, I don’t know. “I was hoping we could talk for a minute,” he says to Zach.

  “I have nothing to say to you,” Zach says coldly, and starts to push past him.

  Jonathan puts a hand on Zach’s chest to stop him, and that pisses me off even more. I want to tell him to get his fuckin’ hands off of Zach, but before I can, Zach knocks his hand away. “Don’t touch me again!”

  I can tell Jonathan is sad ’bout that, but not surprised. He holds his hands up in submission. “Zach, truly. I’m sorry.” He holds his hand out to Zach. “I just wanted to say goodbye.”

  Zach looks suspicious, but after a second, he shakes Jonathan’s hand.

  All he says is, “Goodbye, Jonathan.” And then he walks away. He never looks back.

  It’s pretty anticlimactic, and Jared, Matt and I are all still standin’ there, in sort of a stunned silence. Jonathan turns to Jared first. “It really was nice to meet you. I hope I didn’t ruin your vacation too much,” he says. He holds out his hand and ’course Jared smiles and shakes it.

  “You know, I have a friend in Phoenix.” Matt gives him a dirty look when he says that, but Jared ignores him. “I think I’ll tell him to look you up.”

  Jonathan smiles and says, “I’m always up for a blind date.”

  He holds his hand out to Matt next. Matt hesitates a second, but then they shake too.

  And then Jonathan turns to me. I’m wonderin’ if maybe he’s too good to shake hands with me, but when his eyes meet mine, there’s no challenge in ’em like I’ve seen every other time. He looks tired, and wary.

  And I’m surprised as hell w
hen he says, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “Why the fuck would I want to talk to you?”

  He’s starin’ at the floor, and it takes him a second to answer.

  “There’s no reason in the world you would want to,” he says quietly. “I don’t blame you for hating me. I would feel the same way if I were in your shoes. But I would really appreciate it if you would give me just a moment of your time.” He sounds sincere, and the truth is, he’s got my curiosity up now. “Please,” he says.

  “You wanna talk to me just ’cause you think I’m an easy lay?’” I ask.

  His cheeks turn bright red, and he says, “No.”

  “You gonna tell me how I’m no good for Zach?”

  “No.”

  “You gonna tell me how you deserve him more than me?”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  He looks confused at that. “Yes? What do you mean? Yes, what?”

  “Yes, I’ll talk to you for a minute.”

  Jared heads for the elevator, but Matt stays where he is, standin’ next to me. I look over at him, and he says, “I’m staying.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter,” I say, but we both know I’m not makin’ any guarantees.

  He gives me that half-ass grin he gets, with one eyebrow up, and says, “We’ll see, hothead.” He walks over to the other end of the bar, out of earshot, and sits down.

  “All right, man. I’m listenin’. What the fuck you want?”

  To my surprise, he looks sheepishly at the floor. A second later, his eyes come up and meet mine, and what I see there isn’t judgment or disdain. It’s shame. “I want you to know how sorry I am about—” he stumbles for a moment, then says, quieter, “about what I said.”

  “’Bout sayin’ I’m only good for baggin’ groceries or callin’ me an easy lay?” I ask, and he winces. I’m glad. I got no desire to make this easy for him.

  “Both,” he says quietly, “but especially the second one. It was a terrible thing to say, and I hope you can forgive me. It was jealousy speaking. I know that’s a terribly lousy excuse, but the truth is, it’s the only one I have.” I actually feel a little off balance now. Last thing I was expectin’ was an apology. I kinda want to still be pissed at him, but it’s

  harder now. “Really,” he says, his voice real quiet, “I’m not usually….”

  He lets his sentence trail away, and I say, “You’re not usually a ragin’ asshole?”

  He smiles at me, just a little. “I like to think I’m not.”

  And as much as I hate to admit it, I know it’s probably the truth.

  ’Cause Zach wouldn’t have been with him for so long if he was.

  “Can’t exactly say I’m happy you saved up all your dickhead moments for me,” I say.

  He smiles a little more, still lookin’ sheepish. “I’m not happy about it either. And I truly am sorry,” he says again.

  “Yeah, okay.” Not used to havin’ people apologize to me, and I’m not sure what to do. “Forget about it.” I’m thinkin’ that’s my cue to leave, but he stops me.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” he asks.

  I can’t help but be suspicious and I ask, “Why?”

  He shrugs. “I’d just like to talk to you for a bit.”

  It’s fuckin’ weird, but what’ve I got to lose?

  We sit at the bar next to each other, and he orders a glass of wine for himself and a beer for me. He’s the kinda guy who pays attention to details. He orders the same kind of beer I had the night before, without havin’ to ask. For a minute we just sit there, and I’m wonderin’ what the fuck I’m doin’ there. Then suddenly he says, “I never meant to let him go, you know.”

  “The way I heard it, you’re the one who left.”

  “You heard right,” he says with a sigh. “I thought I would be back.

  That’s why I left Geisha behind. I knew she didn’t like him. I didn’t think I was leaving for good.” He’s not lookin’ at me. He’s messin’ with the cocktail napkin under his wine glass, foldin’ it up over the bottom of the glass, round and round ’til it’s all wrapped around the base of the glass, then smoothin’ it out and doin’ it again. “I was just trying to make him wake up. I wanted him to get his shit together, you know? Quit drinking so much and getting high every night and sleeping around. I wanted him to grow up and quit drifting.” He stops and drinks some of his wine. He’s still not lookin’ at me, and after a bit he starts talkin’ again, quieter now. “I thought he would call. I thought he would realize we were worth fighting for. I waited and waited, and by the time I realized he wasn’t going to call, it was too late.” Not sure what to say to that, but it seems like maybe he doesn’t expect me to say anything. Like maybe he just needs somebody to hear it. And for some reason, that somebody is me.

  “Why didn’t you call him?” I finally ask. “I think he woulda been glad to have you back.”

  He shrugs a little. “Because I didn’t want to go back if he hadn’t changed. And I was afraid if I called I’d only find out that he was happier without me. It seems so stupid now, but….” He lets that sentence trail away. “All that time we were together, it just seemed like he never knew what to do with his life. Like he never had a direction. He never had a purpose. Even in bed, he didn’t know what he wanted.”

  He stops short, and I know he wishes he hadn’t said that last part.

  “The only thing Zach ever wants in bed is to please the guy he’s there with,” I say. He looks a little surprised at that. He’s still not lookin’ at me, but I can see that he’s thinkin’ ’bout that. “You think he didn’t know what he wanted? What that really means is, he couldn’t figure out what you wanted.”

  He’s quiet for a minute, lost in thought. Then he says, “I guess, when I saw him again, I thought, ‘Here’s the Zach I was waiting for’, you know? I could tell he finally had a purpose. He had a direction.” He stops again for a second, and then, “I didn’t realize until later that his purpose was you.”

  “Me?”

  He looks over at me in surprise. “Zach’s never bothered to fight for anything in his life. Not for his degree. Not for a job. Certainly not for me.

  But there’s not a doubt in my mind he’s ready to fight for you.”

  And the crazy thing is, I think maybe he’s right.

  We finish our drinks in silence, and then he gets up and holds his hand out. I shake it, and he smiles at me. “I hope if we meet again, we can start over, Angelo. I would like to think we could do better.”

  “Sure couldn’t do much worse.”

  And he actually smiles at that. “Take care, Angelo.”

  Matt’s been sittin’ at the other end of the bar the whole time. Once Jonathan leaves, he comes over, and we head for the elevators.

  “What was that all about?” he asks me.

  I don’t answer him. My mind is elsewhere. I’m thinkin’ ’bout what Jonathan said: that I’m Zach’s purpose. I think ’bout Zach earlier that day saying, “You’re my whole life.” I think ’bout what Matt said to me the day before.

  “You really think Zach’s compass points at me?” I ask.

  Matt looks surprised for a second, but then he says, “I’m positive. You are his north.”

  We don’t talk the rest of the way to our rooms. He’s lookin’ at me funny, tryin’ to figure out what’s goin’ on in my head, but I’m not ready to tell him. I’m not sure I even could. Not sure I understand it yet myself.

  Is it possible that I give somethin’ to Zach just by bein’ there? When I walk into the room, Zach’s sittin’ on the bed waitin’ for me.

  I stop short when I see him. Tryin’ to figure out how to ask him the question in my head.

  He comes over to me and tips my chin up so he can look in my eyes.

  “Is everything okay?” he asks me.

  “Fine.” He’s lookin’ at me, like he’s searchin’, tryin’ to decide whether I’m tellin’ him the truth.

  “What did Jonat
han want?”

  “Mostly, he wanted to apologize.”

  He looks relieved at that. He wraps one arm around my waist. His other hand is still against my cheek. “He’s not a bad person,” he says gently.

  “Wouldn’t have believed that last night,” I say, “but now, I think I do.”

  “He apologized, and that’s it?”

  “Says he never meant to let you go. He thought he was comin’ back.

  He thought you would call. That’s why he left Geisha.”

  His eyes close for a second, and he takes a shaky breath. I can tell it hurts him a little, realizin’ that maybe they could have made it work if he had only tried. But then he opens his eyes again and looks into mine, and his voice is steady when he says, “I never loved him the way I love you.”

  He’s still lookin’ in my eyes, tryin’ to find somethin’, but I’m not sure what. I’m thinkin’ ’bout whether it can be true that I’ve been givin’ him somethin’ all along, and not even knowin’ it. “Zach, am I your north?”

  He blinks at me once, confused, ’cause of course my question makes no sense. But then he says, with a sincerity that can’t be mistaken, “You are my everything.”

  “Zach?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Shut up and kiss me.”

  He doesn’t hesitate this time at all. His lips are so soft against mine, and I know I’ve really come home now. I know we’re gonna be all right.

  After a few seconds, he pulls back again. He’s lookin’ down at me, and I can tell there’s still somethin’ on his mind.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “Not a thing.”

  “Then what’s up with you?”

  He gives me a nervous smile. “You want to go out for a bit? Just you and me?”

  “Sure.”

  Zach hardly ever blushes, but he’s blushin’ now. There are spots of color high on his cheeks. He hesitates for just a second, but then he asks in a quiet voice, “Will you do something for me?”