Unrequited

by Abigail Roux

  see if it was just someone he knew coming in and forgetting to

  lock the door or something.”

  “Oh,” Shane said as he repressed a yawn. Vic yawned as

  well after hearing the sound. Shane was usually an early riser,

  but it sounded as if he needed sleep too. “Is he okay?”

  “I guess so. Apparently he’s too damn stubborn to call the

  police since he is one, so he checked it out himself.”

  “Fucking dumbass,” Shane mumbled as Vic heard the

  sheets rustling in the background. “How’d that go?” Shane

  asked wryly once he was settled.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t heard back from him,” Vic

  mumbled.

  “Oh,” Shane grunted noncommittally. It seemed Shane

  was of the same opinion as Vic that Owen had merely forgotten

  to call him back, rather than something being wrong. That was

  just the way Owen was. Life of the party, but not very reliable

  unless he was in uniform.

  “Yeah,” Vic said with a sigh.

  “You were saying about a conference?” Shane ventured as

  he repressed another yawn.

  Vic fought another yawn. “Stop that,” he scolded. “You’re

  making me sleepy.”

  “You

  should

  be

  sleepy,”

  Shane

  informed

  him

  unapologetically. “Are you going to the conference? The one in

  Raleigh? I didn’t see your name on the agenda.”

  “I was a last-minute add-on, apparently,” Vic told him with

  a sigh. “I was wondering if I could bunk with you. Hotels are all

  full.”

  “Sure,” Shane answered immediately.

  “You got any time off coming?” Vic asked Shane suddenly.

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  “Yeah, actually,” Shane answered, perking up a bit. “I was

  planning on taking it right after the conference is over.”

  “Oh yeah?” Vic said with interest as he sat back up. “How

  long?”

  “Four weeks, baby,” Shane said with relish. “Heading to

  the beach all by my lonesome to see how drunk I can get.

  Why?”

  “Want to stick around Raleigh and distract me for a few

  days before you head out?” Vic asked with a slight blush.

  “I guess so,” Shane said with a hint of suspicion. “Why?”

  “Because.”

  “That’s not a reason,” Shane told him flatly. “I won’t be

  party to anything illegal… again.”

  “Being heartbroken’s only illegal in certain parts of the

  world, man,” Vic mumbled.

  “I see,” Shane responded slowly. “Finally giving up on

  him?” he asked carefully.

  “I’d like to say yes,” Vic said softly. “But I’m a realist. It’s

  going to take something drastic.”

  “Like… copious amounts of alcohol?” Shane said

  hopefully.

  “Something like that,” Vic said with a sigh.

  “Okay, I can handle that. I’ll send you the room

  information and I’ll see you there,” Shane said with an

  affectionate laugh before hanging up.

  He hadn’t said goodbye, but then Shane rarely did.

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  “Just push the goddamned button,” Vic grumbled aloud as he

  stared at the display on his cell phone. Owen’s number was

  already punched into the phone. All he had to do was hit the

  button to send it. He was afraid to do it though. It had been

  four hours and he had heard nothing from the other man. He

  had probably just forgotten about Vic’s request that he call

  him. He was probably busy, dealing with the police and

  possibly going through his apartment to see what was stolen.

  He didn’t need to be bothered.

  Vic sighed and pushed the button anyway, and as he sat

  listening to the phone ring he tried desperately to quell the sick

  feeling it gave him. Contacting Owen always made him

  nervous. He supposed it was some subconscious fear of

  rejection. He was just fine when Owen initiated contact, but

  when he had to do it he always worried about bothering him or

  calling at a bad time or hearing that distracted “I’ve got better

  things to be doing than talking to you right now” voice that

  Owen tended to get when something was on his mind.

  “Hello,” Owen mumbled before Vic could change his mind

  and hang up the phone.

  “Owen,” Vic said after licking his lips nervously. His voice

  sounded nice and steady though, just as calm and cool as it

  always was.

  “Hey,” Owen said groggily. “Oh! Fuck, I was supposed to

  call you, wasn’t I?”

  “Yeah, I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Vic said

  as his stomach twisted unpleasantly. He recognized it as a mix

  between anger and his feelings being hurt. He had never been

  angry at Owen before; it was a decidedly new feeling.

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  “Sorry, man. It completely slipped my mind,” Owen offered

  with a yawn. “I’m fine. Place got broken into, but they didn’t

  take anything important.”

  “That’s good,” Vic said in a clipped tone, growing angrier

  despite knowing that what Owen told him was exactly what

  happened before he’d ever called. He’d hoped differently, that

  maybe one of the many thoughts on Owen’s mind after finding

  that everything was intact would be to call Vic and let him

  know he hadn’t been shot by some burglar in the middle of the

  night.

  At least he knew how high he was on Owen’s totem pole.

  He had undeniable proof that he was just an occasional fly-by

  rather than a lover. Or hell, even a friend. He didn’t even

  warrant a call to say he was okay.

  “Glad all your shit’s all right, man,” he said succinctly

  before Owen could say anything else. “I’ll see you at work,” he

  offered coldly.

  He hung up the phone without bothering to say goodbye.

  Shane’s luggage was piled up beside the hotel room door,

  ready to head to the beach. Vic’s was packed up as well, ready

  to head back home to his empty apartment.

  The North Carolina Conference of Superior Court Judges

  had gone smoothly. Dull as dishwater, as Shane had so

  succinctly put it. Computer training classes, lectures on media

  relations for judges, judicial independence, updates on

  dispositive motions, and so on.

  Vic’s part in the lectures had been to present and lead a

  panel on evidence, specifically dealing with opinions and expert

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  testimony. It had been marginally interesting. Well worth the

  chance to get away from home for a while.

  Shane was spending one last night in town before he left,

  treating Vic to a nice dinner out.

  Vic wasn’t sure whether he was glad for Shane’s company

  or not. Part of him was. It was keeping him from calling Owen

  and losing a little more self-respect. And he was almost

  pleasantly surprised to find that the longer he went without

  talking to Owen, the angrier he became. He didn’t know if it

 
was an overreaction or just an emotion being magnified by the

  helpless, lonely feeling that came with unrequited love.

  He looked up from his plate suddenly and interrupted

  Shane during the middle of a sentence. “Do you think I’m

  overreacting?” he asked.

  Shane waved a hand through the air and sat back slightly.

  “What?” he asked, nonplussed.

  “About Owen,” Vic answered with a frown. “Should I be

  pissed?”

  “About what now?” Shane asked in confusion.

  Vic sighed and rolled his eyes, looking away at the next

  table and the couple dining there.

  “Vic,” Shane muttered as he leaned closer. “Can you even

  tell me what I was talking about?” he asked with a frown.

  Vic glanced back at him, his cheeks coloring slightly.

  “Baseball?” he ventured with a wince.

  Shane narrowed his eyes and pointed his finger at Vic.

  “Lucky guess,” he accused.

  Vic smiled slightly, but then closed his eyes and shook his

  head. “I’m sorry,” he offered sincerely. “God, he’s driving me

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  crazy,” he said in frustration as he leaned forward and put his

  head in his hands.

  “Get hold of yourself, man,” Shane scolded in a low voice.

  Vic groaned and sat back in his seat. It would have been

  funny to hear Shane deliver that line in any other situation.

  “Is this about him not calling you back?” Shane asked

  dubiously.

  “Yes. No. It’s more than that,” Vic muttered as he picked

  up his fork and poked at his rice. He looked up at Shane with a

  frown.

  “Are you sure it’s him you’re pissed at, Vic?” Shane

  murmured.

  “What do you mean?” Vic asked.

  “I mean… you say he’s using you, but you’re the one who

  lets him,” Shane pointed out gently. “You sure it’s not you

  you’re pissed at?”

  Vic inhaled deeply and nodded, looking away again.

  “Does he even know how you feel about him?” Shane

  asked hesitantly. He sounded almost as if he didn’t want to

  know the answer.

  “I don’t know,” Vic muttered. He should, Vic thought, even

  though he’d never told him.

  Shane was silent, watching him as he pushed his food

  around his plate and told himself to stop brooding.

  He sighed and smiled slightly. “Thank you,” he said as he

  looked up at Shane. “I can always count on you when I need a

  swift kick in the ass,” he said wryly.

  “Trust me, it’s my pleasure,” Shane assured him.

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  Vic’s phone began to vibrate in his pocket, and he

  muttered an apology as he fished it out and looked at the

  backlit screen. “It’s Owen,” he said in surprise.

  He looked up at Shane as if for guidance. He knew if he

  answered it, he would head right into whatever Owen wanted.

  He would forget that he was angry until afterward, then he

  would become even angrier for allowing it to happen again. It

  was a perilous downward spiral.

  Shane raised an eyebrow at him. “Answer it, don’t answer

  it,” he advised as he held up two fingers. “Two simple choices.”

  Vic scowled at him. It wasn’t that simple. He looked down

  at the phone in his hand hesitantly.

  “Vic,” Shane said in a low voice.

  Vic looked up at him. Shane was shaking his head.

  “Don’t answer it,” he ordered gently.

  Vic stared at him as the phone vibrated again. Then he set

  his jaw stubbornly and put the phone back in his pocket.

  Shane smiled slowly at him, and Vic returned it with a proud

  grin.

  “Phase One completed,” Shane intoned with a laugh. “Now

  just go throw the phone in that fancy koi pond over there and

  we’ll go get drunk.”

  Vic snorted and shook his head. “Phone stays dry. But I’m

  open to the getting drunk part.”

  “Deal.” Shane grunted as he slipped a few bills into the

  black envelope the server had left and then stood. “Come on,”

  he said as he took Vic by the elbow and dragged him out of the

  restaurant. “I have an evil plan,” he informed Vic nonchalantly

  as they walked to Vic’s car.

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  “Does this one involve socket wrenches and teeth whitener

  again?” Vic asked worriedly.

  “No,” Shane answered firmly. Vic saw him trying to repress

  a grin.

  Shane had never really struck Vic as the Your Honor type.

  He was laid-back and friendly, most of the time, unlike a lot of

  the judges Vic dealt with. He was more apt to wear worn-out

  jeans and a Jimmy Buffett T-shirt when he wasn’t in court

  than he was to wear a suit and tie. He was comfortable with

  himself and let things come as they may, seldom worrying

  about what lay ahead, happy almost to a fault. And he

  compartmentalized well: this problem belongs with work, and I

  won’t let it bother me when I’m not there.

  He was the type of man Vic sometimes wished he could be.

  “What do you have going the next month?” Shane asked

  him suddenly.

  “What?” Vic asked in bemusement as the little blue hybrid

  beeped at their approach.

  “Obligations and that kind of thing. What do you have?”

  Shane asked as he lowered himself into the car and sighed

  heavily.

  “Uhh… just work, really. Couple of cases with a rookie

  prosecutor that I’m sitting for. Why? Is this part of your evil

  plan?” Vic asked suspiciously.

  “Come with me,” Shane said as he rolled his head back

  and forth, cracking his neck.

  “What?” Vic asked with a little laugh. “Come with you

  where?”

  29 Unrequited | Abigail Roux

  “To the beach. We’ve both got years of fucking vacation

  days built up. Take a couple weeks. Get away. Go lie in the

  sand somewhere and stay perpetually buzzed for a month.”

  “Are you shitting me?” Vic asked incredulously. He looked

  over at Shane, who was watching him expectantly, and he

  laughed at his friend’s spontaneity. Had he not just been

  thinking that he wanted to be more like Shane? What better

  way to try than to spend more time with him?

  “You know what?” he said finally, thinking of the

  borderline depression he had sent himself into in the past few

  weeks, unable to do anything with himself but mope around.

  He was bored with his work, he was alone and lonely and

  rapidly losing his self-respect. One of the few bright spots lately

  had turned into a serious burr under his saddle. And now he

  was mixing metaphors. Hell, he didn’t even have houseplants

  to water. Why the hell not?

  “Yeah, okay,” he said with a nod. “Let’s go.”

  “Beautiful!” Shane exclaimed happily, though he didn’t

  sound surprised that Vic had agreed.

  Vic smiled. Shane knew him too well.

  “We’ll buy you a bathing suit when we get down there. We

  can leave tonight,” Shane outlined contentedly. “He
y! We can

  take the long way, drive down the coast and see all those

  places no one will go with me to see!”

  “You’re a crazy fuck, you know that?” Vic said

  affectionately.

  “Hey,” Shane grunted at him. “I need a break, you look

  miserable, and we both need a tan. Doesn’t sound so crazy to

  me.”

  30 Unrequited | Abigail Roux

  II

  The various places that no one would go see with Shane

  turned out to be a variety of tourist destinations around the

  Outer Banks. Despite all the time Vic had spent in North

  Carolina—almost his entire adulthood—he had never been to

  the Outer Banks. There were a lot of things he’d always wanted

  to see: the array of lighthouses that lined the barrier islands,

  Jockey’s Ridge, the Wright Brothers National Memorial, the

  Lost Colony. His list of what he’d like to see went on and on

  and he hadn’t ever really realized it.

  Vic had managed to talk Shane down from leaving that

  night, though. He’d argued they would need a plan of attack

  before leaving and the hotel room was paid for already. So

  they’d sat down and done some research, planning the best

  route and what could be seen without too much effort. The trip

  would require two full days of travel and one night in a hotel,

  but it would be worth it.

  They left late the next morning, heading toward Manteo,

  North Carolina, at the northern tip of the Outer Banks. It took

  nearly all day to get there, and by the time they drove through

  the main drag of the whitewashed little township, it was getting

  close to dinnertime.

  “Should we try to go see the Lost Colony first, or eat?” Vic

  posed as he maneuvered the roadways and the crazy tourist

  traffic.

  “It’s a national park, right? It probably closes at some

  point,” Shane reasoned.

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  “Lost Colony it is,” Vic agreed as he turned, following a

  sign that headed them toward Roanoke Island.

  There was a smattering of cars in the parking lot when

  they finally reached their destination, most with out-of-state