I WAS HIGH ON ADRENALINE when I got home Thursday night. David and I had spent a perfect day together doing…well…nothing, really. I mean, who gets excited over costume shopping, lunch, and grocery shopping? Seriously. But in the time we had spent together, not just Thursday, but all of those other times, I could see a change taking shape in him. I know it sounds girly to say, and I am anything but girly, but he was like a caterpillar morphing into a butterfly. Whatever had beaten him down so badly was finally being shed, and I was truly beginning to see the man he was underneath.
And he was beautiful.
I only wished he could see himself the way I saw him. He wasn’t perfect, I knew that. No one was. But there was a gentleness to him that I couldn’t resist. It was that same gentleness that I knew on some instinctive level that had been used and battered and beaten. Gentle souls are so easily taken advantage of because they only want to see the good. And his had been beaten until it was virtually non-existent.
But I could see it coming back. When we met, his smile never seemed to reach his eyes. He kept that happiness guarded, almost as if he believed that it wasn’t real. Now, when he smiled at me, I could feel the joy he felt. And it made me glad that I was the one that could give it to him.
Within the past few weeks, I could see the walls he had built around himself come down, piece by piece, and I’d be lying if I didn’t know it was because of me. That sounds douchy, like I’m only in it for my own satisfaction, but that wasn’t the case. David had become someone that I had come to care for in ways I’d never felt before.
I flopped onto the couch and pulled out my cell. I had the picture of me and David opened before I even realized what I was doing. It was a damn good pic, if I do say so myself. Not because I was in it, but because he looked so happy and relaxed.
Pride fired through me, again, not because of me, but because of everything he’d accomplished in such a brief time. The idea for the hospital was inspiring, and it proved to me what a gentle, selfless soul he had. The hard work and dedication he had put into it only helped to solidify that sense of pride.
Along with something else. Something warm and unique had begun to take shape inside me within those past few weeks. Hell, maybe it’d been there the entire time and I was only beginning to see it.
Again, I had never considered myself girly, but as I sat on the couch and stared at the picture of us, I couldn’t help but feel that warmth radiate through me.
I kicked off my shoes and slung my feet onto the coffee table. If Ryan caught me with my shoes on the table, he’d kill me. Well, not literally, but he’d at least yell at me like I was a little kid.
I opened my messaging app, and fired off a quick message to David.
-Had fun today. You’ll make a HOT Spider-Man! Hotter than Tobey.
I hoped he’d find that endearing. Or at least funny. I sure as shit did.
Ryan walked in the front door followed by Lucas as I was setting my phone onto the arm of the couch. He glanced at my feet on the table, just like I knew he would. I shot him a grin and waggled my toes. “No shoes, Dad.”
He smirked at me and tossed his keys onto the dining room table. “How was your day?”
“It was good. David and I went costume shopping.”
Lucas sat beside me on the couch, and Ryan leaned against the wall that separated the living room from the dining room. “Oh? How’d that go?”
My cheeks heated at the memory of David’s ass in that blue spandex. Perv.
“We had fun. He’s gonna make a fuckin’ hot Spider-Man.” I said that for Ryan’s benefit to see if I could get a rise out of him. What’re brothers for? But he just rolled his eyes at me.
“We have ours on reserve. We’re picking them up Saturday.”
Which reminded me, I probably wouldn’t see David the following day, but if everything worked out, I wanted to see him that weekend.
I shot him another text.
-Have a good night and day tomorrow. Can’t wait until this weekend.
I had no idea what we would actually do over the weekend, but as I was beginning to find out about him, less was most definitely more. He didn’t need or want anything fancy, no overt symbols of romanticism. Not that I would be opposed to giving them to him. I would give him the world if I could.
Lucas yawned next to me. I patted him on the knee. “Okay, kiddo, time for bed.”
I half expected an argument from him, but when he looked at me with half-lidded eyes, I knew he was ready. The chemo and drugs had wiped his system out, and the doctors told us it would take a while for him to get back to full strength. Still, I was allowed to worry, right?
He stood and headed down the hallway. I grabbed my phone and followed, passing Ryan along the way. He gave me a weak smile, showing he was worried about his son too. I clasped him on the shoulder and said, “Night.”
By Sunday, all the good feelings I had about our costume shopping adventure had been flushed right down the toilet. I knew I probably wouldn’t hear from David much, if at all on Friday, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t at least text. None of my texts were answered.
I’d spent Saturday on the couch, sending him multiple texts. Still no answer. I sulked more and more with each passing hour. I usually ran when I got into one of those moods. The physical exertion helped calm me. But it rained all day, and I didn’t have a membership to any gym with an indoor track, so the couch and I became besties.
The problem with sitting around doing nothing was that it gives your mind a chance to wander. I kept rerunning the previous Thursday in my head, looking for clues for David’s abrupt cold shoulder. I thought we were on the same page. There had been a moment at the costume shop, when I looked into his eyes after the girl had taken the first picture, when I thought something had passed between us, like we both wanted the same thing out of this.
Maybe I was wrong.
I missed his shy sweetness. I missed how he smelled and tasted. I missed how he felt in my arms. I missed him. It had only been two days, but I already felt like I was missing a piece of myself that I didn’t even know I needed. He made me feel complete, whole.
So, there I was stretched out on my bed on Sunday morning, scrolling through my phone and sulking even more. I was fighting the urge to either go to his studio and lay into him for leaving me high and dry and ruining our non-planned weekend, or hit something. I couldn’t decide which.
Ryan popped his head in the door. “Got a minute?”
I looked around my room. “Do you see me doing anything else?” Yeah, I was a little irritable.
Ryan didn’t seem to notice. He stepped in and leaned against the doorjamb, crossing his arms. “You know I love you, right?”
“There has never been a conversation, in the history of man, that has started that way and ended well.”
He snorted. “You’re being a jackass.”
“Really? Hadn’t noticed. Leave me the fuck alone.” Okay, maybe more than a little irritable.
He ignored me, like he almost always did, and stepped into my room. The bed shifted as he sat. “I’ve never seen you like this, like you’ve lost your best friend. That tells me it can only be one thing.”
Not gonna lie, that was how it felt, like someone had walked out of my life and taken a piece of my soul with them. “And what can that be, Dr. Freud?”
He frowned, but continued to ignore my shitty attitude. “What did you do to David?”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I said defensively. “Why is it something I did?”
But, truth be told, I had no idea if I had or not. David wasn’t talking to me.
“Because David is so passive, he wouldn’t do a thing to hurt anyone. He’d run out onto an expressway full of oncoming traffic to rescue a puppy.”
I blew out a heavy sigh. “I honestly don’t know. I thought we had a great time Thursday, but he’s not returning any of my texts.”
“Have you called him?”
“No.”
“Have you gone to see him?”
“No. But here’s the thing you have to know about him, and I’ll say it so you can understand.” I was clearly heading into “being a dick” territory, but I was incredibly annoyed. “Superman has that Fortress of Solitude thing, right, where he takes only the people he trusts. David’s studio is like that for him. He only lets people in he trusts.”
Ryan gave me a sly smile, like I had just given him ammunition. “And he’s let you in, right?”
It was a question with multiple meanings, but all of them pointed at the same answer, yes. My annoyance evaporated. He had let me in, into his home, his life, and, unless I was mistaken, his heart. But something had changed, and I couldn’t figure out what. I could read him like nobody’s business, and absolutely nothing had indicated that there was a problem between us.
“Adam, go to him. Talk to him. What have you got to lose?”
“Nothing. Everything. I don’t know, Ryan. I just—”
“Go to him. Something’s off. David wouldn’t cut you out without good reason.”
The way he said it, the word “you,” like I was someone special in David’s life, hit me hard. I knew I was. He didn’t talk about family or friends, and barely ever talked about his coworkers. As far as I knew, he had no one else. No one but me. Ryan was right, if he was cutting me out, there had to be a good reason why.
I tossed my legs over the side of the bed and threw on my shoes, Ryan watching me the entire time. I brushed past him, heading to the door. “Go get your man,” he called out.
“Dick,” I shot back. But I threw him a grin, and he smiled back warmly. Brothers, gotta love ’em.
David would be in one of two places, so I stopped at the comic shop first. The moment I entered the store, Greg came flying up to me, anger radiating from him. The dude was huge. I mean, I’m a big guy, but he was the size of a mountain, and when a mountain comes at you, you get the fuck out of its way. So, I took a step back.
He looked around at the empty store, and poked a finger into my chest. “What the fuck did you do to David?”
Why the fuck does everyone keep asking me that?
I threw my arms into the air in the universal sign for “I surrender” and said, “Dude, first, stop poking. That shit hurts. Second, I didn’t do a damn thing. I haven’t talked to David since Thursday. We’d had a good day and when I left him upstairs, everything seemed fine.”
“Then what the fuck. He’s called off the last three days.”
Alarm bells sounded in my head. If there was one thing I knew about David, it was that he was dependable. Something must seriously be wrong for him to miss work. “I have no idea. That’s why I’m here. He’s not returning any of my texts, and I figured it’d be pointless to try calling him.”
“He’s not returning mine either.” Worry creased Greg’s brow, and I briefly wondered what his deal was. That question was pocketed for later research.
“Think he’s upstairs?”
“Probably. He doesn’t go anywhere else. And the bus stops running at six, so he couldn’t even if he wanted to.”
I headed toward the door. Greg grabbed my arm to stop me. I was about to deck him, but I saw something in his face that made me stop. Genuine concern. “Just…be careful with him, okay. Don’t go in all gang busters. Whatever’s going on…” He trailed off, not finishing the sentence.
I was touched by his concern. He was more worried than I originally gave him credit for. I squeezed his bicep, and said, “I’ll be careful,” and left.
I stood at the bottom of his stairs, just willing myself to stay calm. My nerves were shot. All I wanted was for David to tell me what was wrong. I was beginning to wonder if everyone else was right, that maybe I had done something to cause it, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what it was.
I climbed his stairs slowly, feeling very much like a prisoner on death row being led to his execution. I wanted to throw up.
But more than anything, I wanted to hold him again, to feel his forehead pressed to my shoulder and kiss the side of his neck. I wanted to smell the soap on his skin, and taste his lips on mine. I wanted to tell him that I cared for him, that I lov—.
No.
I couldn’t do that. Not yet. He’d run, and I couldn’t risk it.
I knocked on his door and waited. Light from the peephole shifted, and I knew he was on the other side. I could feel him there. I heard the scrape of metal on metal and glanced at the doorknob, hoping he was opening the door.
He didn’t.
“David, it’s me.”
I waited.
Nothing.
I knew in that moment I was losing him.
No one could have ever told me what it felt like to have your heart ripped out and have me fully understand it until then. The pain was excruciating, unlike anything physical I had ever felt. I felt the hot pinpricks of tears in my eyes, and I tried to blink them away.
“Please let me in. Let me talk to you.”
I sounded needy, but I didn’t care. I was needy. I needed to make whatever I had done right again. I needed him.
“David, please talk to me. I don’t know what I did. Please tell me what I did.”
I knocked again, and pressed the palm of my hand against the door. I knew he was there, just on the other side. I could feel the connection between us, even through the door. Like a jolt of electricity, connecting David and me, running hot and powerful up my arm and into my heart. I would swear his hand was in the exact spot on the other side, but it would be impossible for me to know. Maybe it was wishful thinking on my part. Maybe he wanted help with whatever the problem was, and I would gladly give it to him. Anything he wanted. Everything he wanted. But I had to know what it was that I was fighting first. Because I would fight for him, I would go to hell and back for him, but he had to let me in first. The tears came unrestrained. I was done fighting them.
I looked down at the ground, feeling complete defeat for the first time in my life. “I don’t understand,” I said, in almost a whisper.
I stood a moment longer, then slid my hand from the door, severing that connection. I turned to walk down the stairs and stopped, just on the off chance that he was on the other side and he could hear me. “I’m not giving up on you. On us.”
Then I made my way down his steps and into my truck. I didn’t remember the drive home. Honestly, I’m surprised I made it in one piece. I couldn’t see through my tears half the time. Once at the condo, I headed straight to my room, closed the door, kicked off my shoes and crawled straight into bed fully clothed. I didn’t care anymore.
About anything.