The Fiancé (It's Just Us Here Book 6)

by Christopher X Sullivan

  “Not if I don’t tell my parents about you. I’m telling them first. Then we’re telling your family.”

  “So we’re going to be separated. Let’s take a practice swing at it today. You’ll be gone for two hours, max.”

  His argument made sense so I agreed with him. I suggested we go to bed again for a few more minutes because it was nice lying next to him.

  “I’m going to fall asleep if I do that. And I don’t want you tap tap typing next to me like you always do. Let’s stay out here and get to work.”

  “You? Working before nine?”

  “I know,” he groaned. “You’ve already got me pussy-whipped. Let me get you your computer.” Mark brought his old computer to the table; I didn’t open it. Mark got to work. I picked up a piece of paper and made a list of everyone that needed to be called and what I wanted to include in today’s presentation that was different from a normal phone call. My notes branched to as many possible conversation divergences as I could think up.

  “Aren’t you going to do your typing?”

  “Mmm.”

  “Did you already do it? When the fuck did you get up?”

  “Mmm.”

  “Babe, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “Do your morning typing. Let’s get it out of the way, then we’ll make your phone calls. Then we’ll get lunch. Then we’ll make a plan as to how to inform my parents we’re back together... shit, they’re going to be so surprised.”

  “Not more than my family, I can assure you.”

  Mark smiled. He tapped on the table. “Come on, stop messing around. Let’s get this stuff out of the way.” Mark typed on his computer; I went back to my list making. Mark’s fingers stilled. “Chris,” he said. “Chris, why aren’t you typing? You always type first thing in the morning.”

  “I don’t do that anymore,” I said simply. I wrote a few more lines before caving under his stare. When I looked up, Mark had tears coursing silently down his face.

  “What do you mean?” he whispered, chin quivering.

  “I mean... since... well... you know, since we...” I shrugged. “I’ve been working on other things. It’s like you said, I can do more with my mind than just write silly stories.” I went back to my call preparation.

  There was a ten-second delay, then Mark pushed away from the table so quickly that his chair eeked as it crossed the porcelain floor. When I looked up, his face was already turned away. He stalked to the bedroom hallway with hunched, tense shoulders and slammed the door.

  He clearly needed a moment alone, so I went back to my steadily improving conversation for my cold call to the cancer researchers. Mark didn’t come out for ten minutes so I followed him to the bedroom.

  He was in the guest room. The door was locked. I knocked. He didn’t answer.

  I walked into the bathroom and picked up a cotton swab, removed the cotton and used the stalk to unlock the door. I opened the door a sliver.

  “Can I come in?” I whispered.

  “I guess.” He sniffled and wiped his face as I entered the room. He was on the bed. “You really gave up your morning writing?”

  “I haven’t written any fiction since that day,” I confirmed. Not quite true but true enough...

  He buried his head in a pillow, then burst into uncontrollable tears and quiet sobs. I sat on the edge of the bed. “I need a moment,” he said with a tight voice. “Give me a minute.”

  “Okay.” I left the room. He didn’t follow me out to the kitchen so I returned to the bedroom ten minutes later. “Hey. Are we sleeping?”

  “No,” he groaned. He watched me enter the room. He was lying on his side underneath the blankets. One pillow was near his head and the other was clutched in his arms like he was hugging it for dear life. “I’m so sorry,” he said pitifully.

  “It’s okay. I feel fine. I should have grown up a long time ago.”

  “You worked so hard,” he said breathlessly. “You were doing so good... how could you just...” He wiped his face. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “I’m over it. I’m on to a new chapter. I’ve always wanted to work towards what Nick and I are working towards. It’s rough, but exhilarating.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Get over yourself. It’s not your fault I quit writing.”

  The lie hung in the air between us. Mark opened his arms and indicated he wanted me on the bed so I lay down beside him. He touched my hair and my ears and every crease in my face. He kissed me by starting at my chin and working his way up the left side of my face, then around my temple, around my forehead, then down the right side of my face.

  He stared at me when he was done. “I love you so much,” he whimpered. “Please... let’s start writing again.”

  I kissed him on the left side of his face, up around his temple, across his forehead and then down the right side of his face. “I love you, too. But we’re both different people now. This is who I am right now. I have Nick and Travis depending on me. We’ve got a couple really big meetings and deadlines coming up.”

  “I want you to write. You were so happy writing. What happened to Mr. Compulsive Writer? You would see something... and have to write about it.”

  That old me is dead. “Maybe someday,” I lied. “For now I need to learn more coding techniques and business management skills.”

  He let that conversation end. We lay in bed and entwined our fingers. I touched him lightly and he returned the favor. Then we got up for the day. He found an outfit for me, but gave me some privacy so I could change. Then Mark returned with his old computer... the one that I had done a lot of typing on. He sat next to me on the bed and we sunk into the mattress so that we pressed together.

  “Please,” he begged. “For me. Will you do some typing for me? For fun?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  I took a breath and stared at the computer. “There are too many bad memories. I don’t want to do that anymore.”

  I could hear him crying next to me. He didn’t speak. He touched my thigh, but I looked away from him. I could feel how much he wanted to fix me and take away all the bad memories. I could feel how upset he was and how much he really wanted me to write again.

  “I’m working on other stuff now.”

  “Yeah,” Mark said at last. “Right, right.” He removed his hand from my body and wiped his face.

  Mark and I were different people. He had quickly listed all his activities from the last eight months, so basically I knew everything within a few hours. I doled out my secrets over the course of about a week, some of which he had to pull out of me like rotten teeth. This particular secret was very powerful for Mark—it encapsulated every way our separation had wounded me. He had always known about my pain in an intuitive, intellectual way. But seeing that example meant he finally understood how my life had been completely rearranged in the months following our Big Fight. I had tried to become a different person. The old me was still there, but half-dead and afraid to come out of hiding.

  MARK AND I LEFT HIS beautiful apartment and went to work in my cheap crappy environment where Nick was ensconced with Travis as they worked furiously to meet a deadline.

  Travis made this weird burping noise to clear his throat when Mark and I walked in. He always used to do that when we roomed together in college, even when he was on his computer and didn’t actually want to say anything. That’s probably the only annoying thing I can say about my friend.

  “Better late than never,” Nick said.

  “He’s in a bad mood,” Travis warned us, ever the Captain Obvious.

  Nick hollered vaguely, then said, “I thought we had this kink all worked out, but I’m missing something.” He left the apartment and took a walk to clear his head.

  “How’s he holding up?” I asked.

  “He does better when you’re here,” Travis said. “I don’t think he can do this on his own. And like I told you many times, he’s not cut out for a ma
nagement position.”

  “I know. But he’s the main guy—the main coder. You don’t want that position, do you?” I asked hopefully.

  “No way. I’m here for three months and then I’m out.”

  Mark wanted to chat, but Travis was nervous and ready to get back to work so we ignored him.

  “Try to explain the problem conceptually,” I said. “I can’t handle the coding, but where’s the logic going?”

  Travis and I worked out the logic behind the problem that he and Nick were working on. I asked a few pointed questions to which Travis explained why I was not getting the right idea. Then he would explain it more simply, like I was in elementary school.

  Mark was bored out of his mind.

  Nick returned and joined our conversation. I asked a few more questions. Nick got upset. Travis kept playing along with me. Then the two of them went back in the trenches. I walked out of the war room and into the kitchen where Mark had taken residence with his phone.

  I tapped him on the arm. “Let’s go outside. I’ve got to make some calls.”

  We left the two coders and quietly exited the apartment. “Why do you do that shit?” Mark asked once we were outside. “You always have to be the smartest dude in the room, even if you don’t know anything.”

  “Do not.”

  “You were standing there trying to explain stuff to your team and they were basically telling you that you didn’t know what you were talking about.”

  “I know I was wrong. Sometimes they need to explain the basics before they can see the way to properly attack the problem at hand. I’ve helped them before by doing that.”

  “It sounded like gibberish to me.”

  “I used to help Travis all the time when we were in college. Especially before a big project was due... he would come out of his cave for an hour and we’d chat about the logic that was eating him.”

  Mark was not in the mood to talk about Travis. “Travis this and Travis that... why don’t you marry Travis?”

  “This isn’t funny. You’re acting like a child.”

  “I don’t want you working with him,” Mark pleaded again. “It’s not good for you. I want you writing again. And being happy.”

  “I am happy.”

  “You were always so devoted to your writing.”

  “I’m devoted to this project now. And plus, it’s not like I stopped publishing.”

  “You didn’t?” Mark gave me some side-eye.

  “I published those romance novels that were on my hard drive.”

  “I thought you destroyed your hard drives?”

  “I had the important stuff in the cloud. Scattered everywhere. Mostly older versions, but good enough to publish. They’re selling fairly well and without much marketing.”

  “Oh... good.” Mark stuck his hands in his pockets. “You should write some more of those. You said they were easy to write.”

  “No. I’m focused on this.”

  “Ugh.”

  That was how most of the morning and early afternoon passed. Mark was at my side, but he wasn’t having a good time. He sniped at Travis when he got the chance, but Travis didn’t know Mark and just assumed that my partner was a naturally testy person. Nick was too stressed to notice anything. Meanwhile, I was absorbed in my phone calls and schedules, so I couldn’t babysit Mark.

  “I’m going to the gym,” Mark said finally.

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “Nah, stay here and work. You need to do this on your own.”

  “Sorry... I’ll see you after my family dinner.” We walked away from the guys for some privacy and I kissed him on the cheek.

  Mark fidgeted. “Wish I could stay with you all the time... but I obviously can’t handle this shit. Too much nerd power in one place.”

  “Tell me about it. And Suhail isn’t even here.”

  “Suhail isn’t even where?” Suhail asked as he entered the apartment. He was in a breezy mood and wore a wide smile on his face. Then he saw Mark. “Oh fuck,” he said. The bounce in his step evaporated.

  “Hey, dude,” Mark supplied.

  “Oh fuck,” Suhail said again.

  Nick heard our conversation and walked into the kitchen. Suhail glared at Nick.

  “Oh fuck,” Suhail said. It appeared that seeing Mark had short-circuited his brain.

  “I know,” Nick replied with a shake of his head. “I told him not to do it. But he seems happy.”

  Travis appeared behind Nick. “Not to do what? They’re both adults. Who cares if they’re gay? Right, Chris? Love is love.”

  “I’m not gay,” I stated. Suhail groaned. Nick rolled his eyes. Travis looked confused. Mark grabbed my waist.

  “You had to do this now?” Suhail asked. “I mean, right now? You realize Melanie is going to help me move out... like, today?”

  “Is she here now?” I asked. “You can’t tell her about us. We’re going to wait until I tell my parents.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about! Now you want me to keep this from Mel? She’s going to kill me when she finds out.” Suhail stalked out of the kitchen and into his bedroom. “I can’t believe this shit.” His voice echoed back to us, nonstop complainypants.

  I commanded Mark to stay in the kitchen, then followed Suhail into his bedroom and closed the door. “This is important—”

  “What the fuck are you doing?” he whispered at me frantically. “You promised this wasn’t going to happen. I kept you from him for months, and you told me you hated him, and that you were over him. You’re dating a woman for crying out loud. Or have you already broken up with her... for that?”

  “Mark is a good guy.”

  “Oh shit! You must have fucking Stockholm Syndrome. The Chris I saw after he broke you is not something any of us want to see again.”

  “He’s not going to leave me again,” I said pathetically.

  “Christopher! Listen to yourself!” Suhail grabbed his hair with both hands.

  “He might leave me, but he will always come back. I know he will. He said he would. I believe him.”

  “Chris. You are too nice of a guy. You have to be mean. You have to be able to say ‘no’.”

  “I say ‘no’ all the time.”

  “You don’t. I’ve known you almost a year... and you don’t. I could ask you to draw... I don’t know—” He grasped for something for me to do. “I could ask you to draw a portrait of me, and you would do it.”

  “Sure,” I said with a shrug. “It wouldn’t be that good, but—”

  “Don’t give me that shit. You draw. You write. You’ll do anything anyone asks... what did he ask? Huh? Tell me. What did he do to deserve this from you?” Suhail mocked my voice. “Did he get down on his knees? Did he look at you with his big blue eyes?”

  “They are really blue.”

  “This isn’t funny! This is a—” There was a knock on the door which interrupted our quiet whispering. Mark opened the door a crack. Suhail wiped his chin with one hand while leaving the other perched on his hip, then pointedly looked away from me as he formulated his next avenue of attack.

  “Is everything okay in here?” Mark asked. He knocked on the door again and let it swing open. Mark smiled at me. I waved him away, but he didn’t respect my wishes. He shut the door as he entered the bedroom, then he wrapped his arm over my shoulder. “How’s Suhail doing?”

  “Suhail is fucking mad as hell,” Suhail said. “Thanks for asking.” Then he glared at Mark, but my partner was not cowed. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Suhail asked, like I wasn’t in the room.

  “I’m back with Chris.”

  “You can’t do that... you can’t do that to him. Everything’s going so smoothly. You’re going to fucking ruin everything!” Suhail pulled his hair again and had to turn away from the two of us. Suhail didn’t normally curse, so the fact that he was so worked up was quite an achievement.

  “You’re back with Mel,” Mark said, thinking that would be a defense.


  “That’s completely different. We’ve been wondering how to tell the two of you. I’ve agonized over this for months!”

  “You’ve been dating her for months?” Mark asked.

  “That’s not the point,” Suhail said. He waved his hands at me in a dismissive gesture. “The point is we’ve been worried about what you would do.” Suhail looked straight at me. “Looks like I was right to be worried. Fuck, Mel. She’s always so impulsive! We couldn’t wait another month! You ran straight back to him.”

  “I didn’t run back to him,” I protested. “I went for a run in the park, and Mark was there.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “He was!”

  “I’ve gone every Monday at nine,” Mark declared, which made me look at him in disbelief. “Well, except when I’m on assignment. And I was on vacation once. And, yeah, maybe it’s more like nine thirty—”

  “You’ve been there every Monday?” I asked quietly.

  “I was hoping to see you.”

  “I changed my schedule.” I felt very shy all of a sudden. He had been there all along... waiting for me. Every Monday.

  “Why did you go running yesterday?” Suhail asked.

  “I skipped my Sunday run. And I was thinking about Mark all weekend.”

  “Fuck!” Suhail exclaimed again. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you. Because of course you went looking for him.” He waved dismissively at us and turned his back again.

  “I didn’t go looking for him. I was just hanging out... and he was there.”

  Mark was in an amorous mood. “I waited forever for you to get done with your run.”

  “I switched from a sprint workout to a distance run and hoped you wouldn’t follow me and would be gone when I got out of the loop.”

  “But I wasn’t gone.”

  “You weren’t,” I confirmed.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” Suhail said.

  “You don’t have to tell Melanie,” Mark suggested.

  “I have to tell her! I can’t keep a secret like this!”

  “It would only be for a couple weeks,” I promised. “Who knows, we might break up in a couple days. We’ve only been together twenty-four hours.”

  “Babe, we’re not going to break up.” Mark wrapped his arm around me tighter and stuck his mouth on my neck. “But we did pledge not to tell my family until you were out to yours. Maybe Suhail can help a friend out?”