“I love you, too, Kurt,” Blaine replied with a smile in his voice, “Yes, I’ll text you tonight, you know I will,” he answered when Kurt asked. He texted him every night, not denying either of them the connection they both needed no matter how tenuous it sometimes seemed. He knew Kurt just needed a little reassurance. At the moment it was as if Blaine had the upper hand, at least in Kurt’s eyes, because Kurt was the one who felt guilty even though he’d done nothing wrong. Stupid? Yes, perhaps it was stupid…okay, really stupid, but not wrong.
Ever since Blaine and his dad had boarded the overcrowded jet bound for Europe, he couldn’t seem to flip the switch in his brain that would allow him to stop scrutinizing every possible scenario, every word, every potential reaction and response to the conversation he knew lay ahead when he returned home. There was no choice and he couldn’t allow himself to use the excuses he had in the past. His overburdened conscience wouldn’t allow his secret to lie dormant anymore. Sometimes he’d still try to negotiate with himself asking what good it would do to tell him? Wasn’t he being selfish…even cruel knowing the unnecessary pain his revelation might cause? And all because he wanted to clear his own conscience?
He’d somehow hoped that it was something he’d never have to share with anyone and especially not Kurt. At the time, he’d tried to convince himself that it hadn’t been all that significant, at least not for him. Why had he thought that just because it hadn’t meant anything to him….not really, he kept telling himself….. that it wouldn’t haunt him or affect his relationship with Kurt? Back then, he’d rationalized his actions by telling himself he was just doing a favor for a friend? Really Blaine? A favor for a friend was loaning them money to pay the rent. It was giving them a ride when their car broke down. THAT was doing a favor! A far cry from what he’d allowed himself to do for the sake of friendship.
And here he was in Paris with his dad, the one person in the world that he’d never been able to discuss anything of significance with. He didn’t even have his counselor available to him unless he wanted to discuss this over the phone, which of course he absolutely did not! He should have told Dr. Milton about it a long time ago, but it seemed sort of embarassing and silly until the night when he’d discovered Kurt and Clay lying on the livingroom floor. He’d reacted without thinking, assuming the worst. And yet, Kurt kept trying to reassure him that his reaction was not an over-reaction, it was normal! Calling 911 was logical….and what if they really had been injured or even dead? He wouldn’t have wanted Blaine to have done anything other than what he had. Just because in the end it was simply a matter of too much to drink and mistaken conclusions didn’t mean he’d over-reacted. But once all the craziness had died down, the secret and accompanying guilt seemed to come out of hiding with a vengeance and wouldn’t leave him alone for even a second.
Every time Kurt or Clay tried to have an honest conversation with him, he did his best to end it or avoid it, saying things like “there’s nothing to discuss because nothing happened” or “it’s okay, just give me some time” or other meaningless lies…because if nothing had happened and everything was okay none of them would have been in the middle of the dilemma they found themselves in. Clay thinking he should move out, Kurt crying in the middle of the night when he thought Blaine was sound asleep.
He kept hoping it would just all die a natural death with time, that life would go back to some semblance of normal. Then, maybe he could delete it from his memory, as if it was simply a redundant paragraph in the story of his life. Like his conscience was computer-driven or something. Like he could just turn it off and reboot his life or at least that part of it. How he wished!
At the time, it hadn’t really felt like cheating or that’s what he kept telling himself. He tried to forget about their conversations and he’d succeeded for the most part. But, he knew better. Every time they’d talked about it, they’d talked around his relationship with Kurt, hardly ever mentioning his name. So, if they didn’t even want to mention his name surely that was an indication that at least he should have named it as wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong!
He glanced down at the screensaver on his phone. It was one of his favorite photos. Kurt in that sexy black outfit he was wearing the night Blaine had proposed to him. He loved him so much! In hindsight, he knew he should have discussed this with Kurt long before he let it go so far. It’s not like he hadn’t known about it before he even met Kurt. Kurt was always so logical. He would have put it in perspective, probably grabbing a pad of paper and listing all the pros and cons. Blaine half-smiled at that…he couldn’t picture anyone but Kurt making a list surrounding this particular topic. Who was he kidding? Kurt would have thought he’d lost his mind!
“Are you ready, Blaine?” his dad asked interrupting his thoughts. They’d spent the last two days taking their time seeing all the major sites in Paris, the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, the Cathedrale Notre-Dame. Today, they were going to meander some out-of-the way places and shops that other tourists had told them about. Despite everything, he was truly enjoying this trip. Sure, sometimes he’d catch a glimpse of the old Laine, the one he could never call dad, but he knew his father…correction, Laine, his dad, was really trying. And he felt that if his dad could push aside what used to be their nonrelationship and work toward the present and future, he could, too. There’d been a time not so long ago when even the idea of doing something so touristy as wandering through shops in Paris would have sounded as ridiculous as Blaine wearing a coat and tie to go to a job at the hospital where Laine worked.
“Sure, dad, just give me a second,” he said getting up from the corner chair and heading toward his bedroom to change into a polo and out of his T-shirt. Laine watched him go wanting to ask what was on his mind. He wasn’t blind or deaf for that matter. He knew that Blaine was texting someone regularly, often hearing Blaine laughing in his room. And he knew there was the occasional call and he doubted he was calling Barb and trying so hard to hide it from Laine. But their relationship, although becoming more solid he thought, was still fragile He couldn’t think of a way to ask Blaine what was bothering him without him trying to drop it with the word, “Nothing.” Or the phrase, “Just a little tired.”
He’d seemed preoccupied ever since before they’d stepped on the plane in New York. At first, Laine had put it down to Blaine just being a little nervous taking this long trip with his father, a father who had never been there for him up until he and Barb had divorced. And perhaps that was true in the beginning, but it had been a little over a month since they’d arrived in Europe with an itinerary jam-packed full of places to go and sites to see. And as far as he could tell Blaine seemed pretty relaxed with him by now.
“Okay, ready,” Blaine said, appearing eager to get the show on the road. He was determined not to waste this time with his dad, knowing he might never have the opportunity to spend this much time with Laine again, much less go on a two-month tour of Europe. He couldn’t change the future, so he purposefully willed his thoughts to the present.
Kurt disconnected the call and leaned back in the livingroom chair, stretching his arms above his head. Burt had left for work early and Carole had gone to lunch with her book club. He only talked with Blaine once a week because it was a little more costly than he was comfortable with. Until Kurt was done with college, Burt had agreed to pay his cell phone bill and Kurt wasn’t going to take advantage of the gift.
Blaine seemed to be having a good time and, surprisingly, he said he was even getting closer to Laine than he thought he ever would. He said they’d at least broken through the conversation barrier of sports and school. Laine had shared more about his childhood. Things about the grandparents he rarely saw and sometimes he was sure he heard a touch of regret in Laine’s voice. He knew that he wasn’t close to his family and since Laine had always been so distant with him, it sort of made sense. What Blaine hadn’t known was that his dad’s future had basically been planned for him from the day he took his first breath.
Blaine was still a little uncomfortable asking Laine questions, but he wondered what he would have chosen to do with his life if he’d felt he had the ability to choose. Blaine couldn’t think of anything more boring than being a businessman like his dad. He guessed he should be thankful in some convoluted way that Laine had put so much distance between them that he didn’t seem to care what Blaine wanted to do with his life, other than not wanting him to choose entertainment as his life’s work. So far that hadn’t come up as a topic for discussion and he was hoping they could avoid it, period.
Kurt heard the front door close and peeked around the corner to see if it was Burt or Carole. It had been a long time, but sometimes he even expected it to be Finn momentarily forgetting that Finn would never walk through that door again. Burt waved at Kurt on his way to the fridge to grab a cold beer. It was the usual hot as hell Ohio July and he’d been thinking about that beer ever since he’d realized he could leave work early. “Want something?” he asked, turning his head as he bent over the refrigerator door. “Sure! A Diet Coke would be nice,” Kurt replied placing his phone on the coffee table.
“So what have you been up to today?” Burt asked, knowing that Kurt had a day off from his job at one of the local clothing stores. “Just hanging around here. It’s just too hot and humid out there,” which Burt could hardly disagree with. “I just talked to Blaine.” “And?” Burt lifted an eyebrow. “He seems to be having a great time.” He sighed, “And if I hadn’t screwed up so badly I might have been there with him.”
Kurt hadn’t held back in his telling of the fiasco that had taken place in New York last spring. And telling Kurt for what seemed like the hundredth time that what had happened was just one collosal mistake wouldn’t change anything. Kurt had to work this out on his own. And so did Blaine for that matter. He actually thought the break the two of them had sort of been forced to take would turn out to be a blessing in disguise. Ever since Kurt had told him that Blaine had proposed and he’d said yes, he’d been a little concerned. Sure, they’d been together for four years, so he couldn’t say they were rushing anything, but as hard as this particular dilemma was for Kurt and Blaine, he believed the time apart would do them good. He knew it didn’t sound logical, especially since they’d spent so much time apart when Kurt moved to New York and Blaine had remained in Lima to finish high school, but that was before they’d taken the giant step of living together. That was an entirely different ball game.
“Kurt, I know this is easy for me to say, but you need to be patient. And what you’re feeling is normal under the circumstances…and I know none of that helps. Have you two discussed what you’re going to do when he returns? It’s only about three weeks away. Are the four of you just going to move back in together and see what happens? Are you going to meet beforehand to decide your next move? This isn’t just about you and Blaine, although I’m sure sometimes it feels that way. What about Rachel and Clay?”
Kurt didn’t have an answer, not that he hadn’t thought about it. He’d made plans to get together with Clay and Rachel the following week, but he didn’t know what to do about a conversation with Blaine. He didn’t want to do it via text or a phone call, but Blaine was getting home only a few days before school started again and he thought they really needed to have their living arrangements settled before then. It’s not like they couldn’t change them if….he didn’t want to think about if so he stalled and told Burt about his plans to meet the other two. God! All he wanted was for things to go back to normal, back to the way they’d been before “that night.” “Can we talk about something else?” he asked Burt, his eyes begging him to say yes.
How could she have been so selfish? That’s what it really boiled down to, didn’t it? Putting her desires, her wants over his? He’d never, ever kept a secret from her, at least that she was aware of. Of course she’d known about his boyfriend, his soul mate. Back then, she’d been his best friend! And they were still friends, they still talked and texted, just not as often as they once did. He’d been right! She’d found her own soul mate and they were engaged now.
The wedding…that’s all she seemed able to think about. She still had two years of college to go, but they’d met their freshman year. Neither wanted to wait any longer. They hadn’t taken the path so common these days of moving in together before they got married. Sure, they’d had overnights together but the idea of setting up their future home was one of the many fun surprises they were sure awaited them after they said, I do. Willfully, drawing her thoughts back to the issue she’d set aside this time to examine, she zeroed in on the initial frantic conversation they’d had.
He’d called her a few months ago in a panic and after she’d finally calmed him down to get the full story, her heart sank. What was he going to do? he’d asked, the ache in his voice evident. At first she’d tried to avoid the question, insisting he didn’t have to do anything. After this long why should it even matter? In the grand scheme of things….but he wasn’t living in the grand scheme of things; he was living in the here and now!
After the initial shock of the tale that he told and having time and space to mull it over…to let it sink into her psyche just as he had had to do….she now knew just how much it mattered. Back then, at 16?….amazing what a couple short years could do for a person’s maturity….the significance eluded her. After all, she was a girl….so why should it be a big deal? That’s what she told herself. That’s what she’d used as a tool to convince him that no one would care.
And now here she sat thinking about how utterly stupid that sounded. If no one would care and if it wasn’t a big deal then why had they felt the need to hide it in the first place? How could I have been such a manipulative bitch?
And so dismissive of his predicament, “It was just a silly mistake. It’s not like they planned it! People get drunk and stupid comes with the territory, doesn’t it?” she said, not even realizing that she might have been describing their own lack of good sense just a few years ago. But…..they hadn’t really been drunk by the time they did what they did. She’d told herself that it didn’t matter, always coming back to the fact that she was a girl.
“Yes….” he’d said with a frustrated sigh, “but the point is nothing happened! They’re walking around feeling guilty as hell for something that never even happened! Me on the other hand? We both know something really, really happened!”
She didn’t like it at all, but she had to at least acknowledge that she got what he was saying. She didn’t want to….but she did. Somewhat reluctantly she ventured, “Okay, I get it…..and I’m sorry I put you in this position….what can I do to make it right?”
“You? Why should you be the only one to make it right….fuck! Why should you shoulder all of the responsibility? I don’t even know if it can be made right, fixed, patched….what a mess.”
“Look, he already knows me, right? It’s not like I’m some stranger.” Although he might wish that she was by the time all of this was said and done. “If you think it will help, we can do this together. And I don’t know if this’ll make any difference, but I didn’t know him back then; I’d never met him. All I knew was what you’d told me, right?”
He was quiet long enough for her thoughts to catch up with what she was saying. Yeah, that was all he’d talked about back then. How much he was in love with the guy, describing him over and over even though he’d shown her the pictures on his phone a million times. But when it came to their quiet talks about what she was asking of him? They’d both avoided his name…..like if they didn’t actually claim him as a person, a sort of participant even? that it made everything okay. She may have been 16 and immature but she wasn’t an idiot. He’d been trying to tell her no, he couldn’t, he didn’t want to because he was in love…..selfish! She’d been so damn selfish! She could almost hear the wheedling tone in her voice at the time.
Now that she saw it from the back side of 16, she was actually somewhat surprised he was even still speaking to her! He could have very easily blamed her but when she’d insisted it was all her fault, he said, “I wasn’t a child who didn’t know how to say no! You were…still are….one of my best friends. Remember we kept saying we wouldn’t let it change us and our friendship? No regrets, remember?….And it didn’t change our friendship and I’m grateful for that….but it changed me….it changed me,” she could hear the beginning of tears in his voice.
And now she was crying, more for him than for herself. Finally, making an attempt to clear her throat, she said, “All the more reason that we should talk to him together! If you’re determined to tell him anyway at least let me help.” Would it help? he thought. Honestly, he couldn’t see how it would make a difference one way or the other…but she was right, he was determined to tell him. “Let me think about it.” he replied, “and we’ll keep in touch in the meantime?” sounding like he might doubt that they would. “Of course,” she reassured him, “you shouldn’t even have to ask that.”
And they had stayed in touch finally coming to the conclusion that it was a 50/50 shot, it might help or it might not and just as he was determined to tell him, she was just as determined that he wouldn’t have to do this alone.
Clay felt like a piece in a Chinese puzzle, a tile being pushed and pulled against his will, not knowing if the unidentified player would ever slip him into the slot where he belonged. And it had absolutely nothing to do with his far-flung room mates or solving the issue of their future living arrangements. In fact, right now he longed for that problem when compared with what he was up against now.
His heart was breaking and swelling with unresolved love all at the same time….and he was scared to death. It had been a month since the phone call.
He’d just started to get used to being alone in their great big loft and it felt good. Whether it would still be “their” loft come fall wasn’t something the universe had made him privy to. What he did know is that there was no elephant in any of the rooms now, just lots of breathing space. He’d even had a couple of guys over, a nice change of pace from always having to go to their place. And he hadn’t met anyone yet that he wanted to spend the future with, but then again he wasn’t looking. After the blowup with Kurt and Blaine, he wasn’t sure anymore that a partnership (his new word for relationship) was something he even wanted. Especially since he still felt guilty for the part he’d played that had created the whole sticky situation in the first place. Yeah, yeah, he thought to himself, no matter what Blaine or anyone else said, he’d played a part and ridding himself of the guilt would take more time.
So when his phone rang, unusual in and of itself since texting was his usual mode of communication…..and then when he saw the all-too-familiar number he was glad he’d been sitting down. Damn! He should have blocked it long ago….but he just hadn’t had the heart to do it. He realized as he continued to stare at it that he’d been living in a perpetual state of “what if.” What if circumstances had changed? What if things hadn’t worked out? What if he was needed? For what, he didn’t know, but he was done with playing what if. He’d block it tonight….right after he decided whether to answer…..or not.
His commonsense told him not to answer it…..to block it…right now.!…but his mind wasn’t cooperating with his body as he answered with a simple, but flat, “Yeah.” “Hi, Clay,” the voice said hesitantly almost as if he was afraid Clay would hang up, “How are you doing?” How was he doing? He fought the urge to actually answer the question honestly while at the same time fighting the urge to hang up before he said something he would most assuredly regret. “Fine, what do you want.” There was no change in inflection….and there wouldn’t be. He wanted this conversation done. “Um….we need to talk,” the words rushed from the phone and into Clay’s ear. “Why?” Clay continued with his monosyllabic responses, his voice sounding tight and strained.
Clay heard a deep sigh and then, “Look, I understand if you don’t want to ever see or hear from me again,” Clay’s mind screamed, You got that right!, “but it’s important, really important,” the voice emphasized, “but….not over the phone, um…..can I just come over? I promise I won’t take up much of your time.” No way in hell he was going to meet him here! Talk about letting temptation reign! Although right now the only thing he was tempted to do was deck him! Okay, fine, great! Whatever it was, he’d hear him out and then make it clear that he never wanted to hear from him ever again, not in this life! “Okay,” his voice still as taut as a guitar string, “how about we meet at The Panther in an hour?” “Yeah, of course……and thanks, Clay, really, thanks.” he replied as if he was unable to disconnect himself from Clay’s voice.
God! Why was he doing this? Putting himself right in the line of fire once again. Exposing himself to opening a wound that he now realized had never really closed, no matter how many times he tried to tell himself it had – even after all this time. At least it was a Friday night! Yes, The Panther would be busy, but maybe that meant they wouldn’t linger over this conversation or whatever it was going to be, and once it was done? He could sit at the bar and drown himself in his sorrows, maybe find a hookup and come back here to hopefully forget the whole thing had happened.
The wall of noise hit him like a force field as he pushed on the heavy doors of The Panther. This was one of his favorite hangouts….and now he wondered if suggesting it as a meeting place was a big mistake. He didn’t want to be reminded every time he came here about this…whatever this was going to be. Oh, well, too late now, let’s suck it up and get this over with. He looked around trying to spot him in one of the booths lining the walls or at one of the tables scattered throughout the room. And then….there he was, but there was someone sitting across from him. What was this? Was he really so cold and crass as to want to introduce him to his new boyfriend…and why? Oh, what the hell, he thought, here we go.
“Hey!” he yelled over the noise, not meaning to sound angry….did he sound angry? And why should I care! He gathered his courage and looked him straight in the eye, but not daring to speak his name. “Oh, hi Clay!” he said as he started to motion to his table companion, “This is…” “Hi, I’m Rick…and I was just leaving. Just catching up is all.” Rick quickly slid across the booth and was gone.
“You’re looking good, Clay!” “Uh…thanks,” he replied not in the mood for small talk or discussing his looks. And as if on cue, the waiter arrived and took his drink order, Heinekin. “So, what’s so important?” He wasn’t going to prolong this.
“Clay, I’m really sorry about….” “No! We’ve already had this discussion more times than I care to remember, so what’s going on?” He wasn’t really surprised by Clay’s reaction to his call. He knew he’d hurt him deeply but at the time he’d felt he had no choice….and maybe he’d done it all wrong, but at the time…well? “Okay, look, it’s obvious you’re not going to cut me any slack,” he said with a half-smile and then looked at Clay’s steely, emotionless eyes, “so….okay…..Clay…” there was no good way to say this and if he took too long he was honestly afraid Clay would just leave before he had a chance to get the words out, “when I broke up with you….I was sick….” The shock and confusion on Clay’s face was not at all unexpected; he’d played this conversation over and over like a broken record on a turntable in his brain. “Sick? As in ill? But what’s that got to do with……you don’t have AIDS…do you?” Now his face turned to frightened. The first thing every gay man thought of when someone said they were “sick.” And yes there’d been tons of advancements in treatment over the years and it wasn’t the killer it had been in the late 20th Century, but it still struck fear into his heart.
“No, Clay, not AIDS,” he almost laughed but managed to stop himself when he saw the look of horror on Clay’s face. “No….um, I had cancer…..testicular cancer….stage III testicular cancer. I’m okay now….but…” Clay felt like he was a gigantic wave crashing into the shore on a sea of emotions. He’d literally flattened his body against the back of the booth, his fingers gripping the edge of the table, as if he was trying to get his bearings in an unfamiliar environment.
Finally he leaned into the table and almost whispered, “you broke up with me because you had cancer? What kind of sense does that make! That’s when you would need me the most, don’t ya think?” He knew he should have some sympathy for him, but it seemed that any sympathy he might have felt had washed out with the tide and all that was left on the shore was a seething anger.
“Clay,….I…..I wasn’t thinking straight….I didn’t want to put you through the months of chemo or radiation….and at the time no matter what they told me I was sure I was going to die. I’m in remission now and the doctors tell me chances are good I’ll live a normal life….I told them I never had before,” he sort of laughed, trying to make light of it.
Clay leaned back in the booth again noticing that the waiter had come and gone somewhere in the midst of his entire life being turned on its head. His beer had arrived. He took a long swallow, closed his eyes, tried to take a deep breath without choking and then turned his attention back to the conversation. “I don’t know what to say. Of course I’m sorry you have…had?” he shook his head, “whatever, cancer, and I’m sorry you went through all that alone, but part of me is mad as hell! So, you had cancer, you don’t anymore, you’ll probably live to be a hundred….why are you telling me this now?”
Tentatively, a hand was offered across the table, trying to take one of Clay’s hands in his, his frightened eyes tearing up, “Because I never stopped loving you and….I want you back, Clay.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Clay couldn’t seem to hold in the anger that he wanted to be rid of. He wanted to take the hand that offered him love and a second chance. He wanted to profess his love just as easily….but it was as if those words were no longer in his vocabulary. “You never stopped loving me….but you couldn’t trust me to be there during the worst time in your life? What kind of love is that? No, I get it…I get it, really….you didn’t want to watch me suffer with you. You loved me through the good times and according to you you loved me through the bad times, too, but you didn’t think I could do the same? You thought it would be better for me to believe you didn’t love me anymore…that maybe you’d found someone else to “settle down” with?” he put in air quotes. He could almost feel the waves of resentment and outrage crashing over the table between them.
“Angelo, damn you! Damn you! How dare you……” Clay choked on his words, “I don’t even know what to say. No wait! I do know what to say! Leave me alone and don’t ever, not ever,” he leaned into Angelo’s face almost hissing the words as he stood up, “call me again! I don’t want or need your kind of love!” He threw a five on the table and walked through the door wishing for a satisfying slam.
