Chapter Eighteen
Work was crazy busy Monday morning, so Doug didn’t get a chance to sit down until well after lunch time. The design guys tended to over-engineer everything, drafting unnecessarily complex, crazy-shaped brackets just to show how talented and artistic they were, and then Doug was expected to figure out how to make them with a hammer and chisel for a dollar apiece, with management breathing down his neck.
But he was grateful for the distraction, it took his mind off his love life, or lack thereof, depending on how things worked out.
The rest of Doug’s week went pretty much the same way. His days were busy, and his nights were quiet. Too quiet. Stewart hadn’t called him, but Doug also hadn’t seen or heard his van. It seemed he was definitely gone from the house. He’d really done it, moved out.
Late Wednesday, he heard Corey’s sports car pull into the driveway. He peeked out his bedroom window, watching him carry a duffle bag into the house.
For the next few days, he was aware of Corey coming and going out the back door, and timed his own exits so they wouldn’t coincide. He wasn’t going to avoid Corey forever, but for the time being, he wasn’t too keen on running into him.
It was Saturday before he finally heard from Stewart. A text message, which struck him as rather formal, considering Doug’s cock had been in his ass.
‘All moved in. How are you?’
Doug wanted to just call him, but he figured if Stewart wanted to text, he’d follow along, not push his boundaries. ‘I’m good. You okay? Do you need anything?’
He carried his phone with him while setting up his meditation stuff. He needed it bad today, annoyed that Stewart’s sudden absence was affecting his mood. And he missed him. He kept getting a whiff of his scent in the bedroom, and that deep longing would churn in his stomach. He wanted to see him, damn it.
His phone beeped with a new text from Stewart. ‘All is well. I’ll call you sometime soon.’
Doug frowned at the words on the display. “What the fuck?” he said. “Call me now, asshole.”
Stunned by his own anger, he took a deep breath. He turned his phone off and left it in the bedroom, then went back to the alcove to meditate. Settling in, he worked to clear his mind, starting his mantra. One...one...one...
His mind didn’t have much trouble clearing. He’d gotten good at controlling and casting out the thoughts that crept in. But something was off. It was a sad feeling deep in his heart, mingled with anxiety.
And it was familiar. Every time he’d worried where Harry was. Every time Harry stayed late at work. Every time they fought about his secret phone calls and the mysterious finger-shaped bruises on his body that he claimed to have gotten at the gym.
Why was he feeling that anxiety now? Stewart hadn’t done those things to him, Harry had. And Stewart was doing exactly what he’d told Doug he was going to—taking some time for himself. It wasn’t like he’d betrayed Doug. He hadn’t lied or misled him. The guy was getting out of a three-year relationship. Doug knew this, and had gone into it with open eyes. And he was surprised that things felt a bit off? Of course they were, considering the situation. But still, that feeling...
Doug’s mood sank lower as something occurred to him. He’d only ever felt this way when he was with Harry...when he was in love with Harry. So maybe love was the culprit. He’d gone and fallen in love with Stewart, and now that old crap feeling had sneaked back in when he left the door open.
He felt foolish now that he’d added ‘finding a boyfriend’ to the list of things he wanted in this new life, his fresh start. How the hell could he have forgotten so quickly? Love made you feel like shit! Hell, maybe Kelly Ingham had the right idea. No kissing. No small talk. Just a couple of vodkas, then drop and roll.
He finished the meditation, though it wasn’t the most serene twenty minutes he’d ever had. When he went back to his room and turned his phone on, there was another text from Stewart.
‘Missing you like a madman, by the way. Call you soon.’
Doug grinned and fell back onto the pillows. Just like that, the pendulum swung the other way, and he went from gloom and doom to bunnies and rainbows, happiness spreading through him like warm honey. He laughed at himself, closing his eyes and covering them with his hand. “Oh, man,” he groaned. “I am so fucked.”
Love. You vicious bitch of a puppet master.
Doug became vaguely aware of a banging coming from outside. He had in fact been hearing it for a couple minutes, but Stewart’s text and his own dreamy thoughts had pushed it to the periphery of his senses. He sat up in bed, then leaned over, pulling the window shade back.
Corey was in the driveway outside the garage, repeatedly kicking a wide flat suitcase across the ground. He picked it up by the handle, then flung it at the garage. When it bounced off the wall and landed at his feet, he jumped on top of it, slamming his feet down. “Fuck you!” he shouted. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, youuuuuu!”
Doug’s eyes widened. “Holy shit.”
Corey jumped off the case and it popped open. He slammed it shut with his foot. Doug realized now that it was a portable massage table Corey was attacking, folded up into a wide, flat casing.
Corey lifted it by the handle again, whirling around in a circle before letting it go. The case hit the closed garage door and one of the small windows shattered. “Fuck you!”
Doug hesitated a moment, then sprinted out of the bedroom, to the back door. He pulled it open and stepped onto the porch. “Corey, what are you—”
Doug ducked as Corey picked up the case and flung it in his direction. The table caught on the porch railing, then dropped to the ground below. Doug slowly raised himself up.
Corey paced in front of the garage, hands on his hips. Slowly, Doug moved down the steps and approached him. “Corey?”
Corey stopped pacing and whirled around, his pale eyes tight, glimmering like he was on the edge of tears. “What?”
Doug glanced at the broken window. “What are you doing?”
“I’m minding my own fucking business, Doug!”
“You broke the window.”
Corey glanced over at it. “I’ll buy Anna a new one.” He walked over to the porch, kicked the massage table aside, and sat down, head in his hands.
Doug was wary to approach him, so he stayed a few feet back. “Why are you beating up your massage table?”
Corey lifted his head. “I can’t work.” He looked at Doug. “I had a client today. I couldn’t help him.” He shook his head. “Couldn’t help him. My energy...” He twirled his hand beside his head. “It’s so fucked up and twisted right now that I can’t even heal. I’m broken. I hope you’re happy.”
Doug took a step toward him. “You hope I’m happy? Why would that make me happy?”
“Because you,” he pointed, “are responsible. Your bad energy started a domino effect that caused all of this.”
Doug sighed. “Corey, come on. I thought we were past this...fucking insanity. And didn’t you remove my bad energy?”
Corey stood and stepped off the porch. “Yeah, you’re all clear, now. Look at you. All calm and peaceful. But it’s too little too late. The damage is already done.”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t—”
“I had a handle on things!” he shouted, getting in Doug’s face.
Doug took a step back. “Corey—”
“I was in control! My world wasn’t perfect, but it was balanced.” His eyes trailed over Doug. “And then you slithered in, turning everything rotten. And suddenly up is down, black is white, people are hating on me, and I’m getting punched in the fucking face!” He pointed to the fading shiner under his eye.
“Corey, calm down.”
Corey’s head fell back and he let out a shrill cackle. “Calm down?”
Doug took another step back. He didn’t think Corey would touch him, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Corey was beyond agitated, and he was not a small guy.
“Doug wants me to calm down.”
“Yes, I do. Take a breath.”
Corey glared at him, his face flushing red. “My world is blown to pieces. My life is falling apart. I can’t work. I lost my best friend. I’m heartbroken!” he screamed, pounding his chest with his fist.
Doug flinched.
“But you stand there and tell me to calm down.”
Doug took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
“You.” He pointed a finger in Doug’s face. “You are destruction incarnate.”
“You can’t blame me!” Doug said. “I didn’t do anything to you, Corey. I didn’t make anyone punch you in the face, I didn’t screw up your healing energy, and I didn’t make Stewart leave you.”
Corey gasped, his mouth falling open. “Stewart?” He stepped backward, hands going to his head. “OH my GOD.” He turned in a circle, laughing. “Oh my God.” He looked at Doug. “That’s what you think, isn’t it? You think Stewart left me for you.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But it’s what you think!” Corey laughed harder, bending over, hands on his knees. “Oh my God. You sad, sad little man.”
Doug’s jaw stiffened. He forced himself to calm, taking deep, slow breaths through his nose.
“Oh my God. You really have no idea.” Corey straightened up, laughter trailing out of him. “You called me crazy once, remember?”
“I think it was more than once,” Doug said warily. “But yeah, I remember.”
Corey nodded. “You called me crazy. But you have no fucking clue how messed up Stewart is.” He jabbed a thumb into his chest. “I kept him grounded.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You ever wonder why Stewart stayed with me so long? Putting up with me sending him out of his own house so I could fuck guys in our bed? Stewart’s an emotional train wreck, Doug. Do you know what his parents did to him?”
“I know he had some issues with them,” Doug said.
“Oh, we’ve all got mommy and daddy issues,” Corey said. “But Stewart’s parents didn’t just slap him around and send him to his room. They sent him to another country. They didn’t even want him in on the same continent. He’s got this big ball of rejection and abandonment issues just coiled up inside him. And he never let me heal him.”
Doug frowned. “You never...did your magic massage thing on him?”
“He wouldn’t let me. ‘Of course I feel rejected, I was fucking rejected’” Corey said, imitating Stewart’s accent. “He chooses to deal with it himself, thinking it doesn’t affect his life at all.” Corey laughed. “Doesn’t affect his life. Pshaw! That’s what really cracks me up.”
Corey’s anger seemed to be subsiding somewhat despite his continued rant, so Doug stayed quiet, letting him spill it out.
“Don’t you get it, Doug? Stewart could never be happy with someone like you. Look at you! Your big puppy dog eyes, that desperate, needy energy. You might as well have a sign on your chest that says ‘Wuv me, pwease!’”
“Okay.” Doug held his hands up. “That’s enough.”
“Seriously, though. You think Stewart’s ever gonna go for that? If someone shows Stewart total, unconditional love, it freaks him the fuck out. His family taught him he wasn’t good enough to be loved. That’s why he needed me, a guy that would reject him over and over and over again. He wanted me to fuck other guys, it was the only way he could feel normal. He couldn’t handle me loving just him.”
“I don’t believe that,” Doug said.
“Believe it. Stewart’s fucked up. He is the way he is. And he’s not gonna change. Not for you. Not for anyone. But I was handling him. It wasn’t easy. But I kept all my balls in the air. We had balance. Until—”
“Yeah, yeah, until I came along,” Doug said, exasperated. “Me, the destroyer of worlds. I’m going inside, Corey. Try not to break anything else.”
Doug stormed back into his apartment and closed the door. Squeezing his eyes shut, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
He got a beer out of the fridge and went into the living room, sitting down on the sofa. Taking a long swill off the bottle, he stared down at the floor.
He didn’t know if he believed the things Corey said about Stewart. But he didn’t entirely disbelieve them, either.
“Fuck.”