Crash: M/M Straight to Gay First Time Romance (11 page)

              “Your friend came to visit me,” I say. The sound of my voice brings his gaze to my face, and his eyebrows furrow in disbelief.

              “Oh, I was just getting snacks ready for the kids,” he says, slowly making his way towards me.

              “Kids?”

              “Yes, my kids are due back in a little while,” he says over his shoulder, staring at me because maybe if he tries hard enough, we will be able to form a mind meld, and I can inject all of the missing information about this situation into his head.

              “You have kids?” Her voice catches as she says it, and she swallows hard again.

              “No, not my kids. The kids here, at the center,” he corrects himself.

              “Oh, I thought you didn’t like kids,” she says.

              “Oh, Clarissa, that was…that was another time and another me. I am sorry hun, I…” Reid looks at the floor and shuffles his feet.

Clarissa pulls her mouth up into a dazzling smile, and I go from a participant at this moment to a silent observer.

              “It doesn’t matter now, does it? It looks like you and I have some business to take care of, and if you play your cards right, it could be a windfall for you and your kids,” she says, pulling a large manila envelope out of her overpriced handbag. Her business card is paper clipped to the front, and I snag it from her before Reid gets a chance to open the envelope.

              “Director of special projects for MCM Global,” I say.

              “Yes, I have been put in charge of this project. We want to make sure that the things that go on here reflect well on the company. We don’t want to invest so much of our reputation and money into a project that doesn’t raise our public profile.” Ms. Jones recites her purpose as if she is reading it off of a teleprompter.

              “Oh,” Reid says.

              “And what do we have to do to assure the good people at MCM that we are on the level?”

              “All of the requests are there in the envelope. In the meantime, I am sure you boys wouldn’t mind if I hang around here and observe the day to day operations,” she stands up, slipping her bag over her shoulder and smiling again.

              “No, no problem. Let me show you around. Where are you staying?’ Reid begins to usher her out of the office.

              I sit still as the two walk out of the tiny office and down the hall. My eyes follow them despite not wanting to. I hate how natural they look together. They may not have parted on good terms, but it is clear they were once very close. There is a certain naturalness to their movements. They match, both majestic creatures moving with smooth and confident strides. Both of them smiling easily and chatting politely, completely unaffected by my silence or the absence of my presence. Once again, Reid is shining and I am watching from the shadows. Why does it hurt so much now?

Reid

              “So what’s the deal with the cheerleader?” Liam hikes himself up onto the counter in the kitchen as I begin assembling ingredients for dinner. His legs are much improved. He still refuses to use the walker the doctors prescribed for him, so his range is limited, but in some ways this is better. As long as he is happy, I am willing to keep my mouth shut. But days like today, when he spent so much time on his feet, meeting the kids and playing games, his legs ache. I can see it in his face, but he won’t ever admit to it. It’s not like Liam to admit when he is hurting, which is why his interest in Clarissa is so surprising.

              To say that Clarissa Jones appearing in my office, shooting eye daggers at my fake husband, was a shock would be putting it mildly. She is one of those people from my past that I owe a debt to, one that I can’t ever repay. We were friends and lovers for years. When I was determined to destroy myself, she stood in my way. She peed in cups for me. She delivered papers for me. She hid my drugs from me the night before a big game. She loved me when I couldn’t love myself. And I stole something precious from her.

              “We were close in college,” I say, not knowing where to go from there.

              “Obviously. How close?”

              “We were as close as two people could be. I was still using at the time, but she helped me keep it under control, and we depended on each other. Well, I depended on her, and she let me lean on her.” I begin washing vegetables to avoid his eyes.

              “Did you sleep with her?”

              “Yes.”

              “Did you love her?”

              “Yes, in my own way.”

              “Do you still love her?”

              “Not the way she wants or deserves.”

              The seconds tick past without Liam saying anything else. I begin to get a little worried, but I am not ready to face him yet. These are the kinds of conversations couples have after months or years of dating, not after a marriage and one night together. What I want right now is a cold beer and some silence. I want it so bad my skin itches.

              “Just breathe,” Liam says. I look up at him, and he stares back at me, his jaw clenched as he watches me prepare dinner. “You aren’t the only one who pays attention around here. The meditation CDs and shit are everywhere.”

              He rolls his eyes and slides down from his spot, holding onto the counter for a moment as he regains his balance and then walks away.

              “Call me when dinner is ready,” he says over his shoulder.

              I hear the bedroom door close and sigh with relief. Turning off the stove, I retreat to my bedroom. I need the peace and quiet to straighten out my thoughts and feelings. Clarissa is a special person to me. She will always have a special place in my heart. But, we aren’t a good fit. She has a side to her that I can’t live with; one that she keeps carefully hidden underneath her manicured exterior.

              I take the time to focus on my breath. Inhale and exhale, letting the craving for an escape pass over me. It’s the sound of my phone ringing that brings me out of my meditation.

              “Hello?” I answer the phone without bothering to open my eyes.

              “Is Liam around?”

              “He lives here.” I snort at my sister’s silliness.

              “I know that. But, is he next to you right now?”

              “No.”

              “Good. It would be better if you were alone when I told you this.”

              “You’re in luck. I am alone. Spill it.”

              “I did some digging. First of all, holy shit, this guy has a lot of money. I mean, he is heir to a fortune.”

              “I knew that.”

              “Yeah, but here is the crazy thing. He didn’t exist ten years ago.”

              “What?”

              “Exactly. All records of Liam McClehllan begin about ten years back. No birth certificate. No high school transcripts. Nothing. It’s as if he just didn’t exist,” she says, speaking in hushed tones despite being on the phone.

              “I am sure there is a reasonable explanation. I will ask him about it,” I assure her.

              “No, don’t do that! Then he will know you are on to him, and he will move up the timetable for his plan.” I can hear Darlene scurrying through her house.

              “What plan? What timetable?”

              “I don’t know. But, there has to be one. What other reason could he have for staying with you in your rinky dink house instead of sitting in a four-star hotel and having private nurses attend to his every need?”

              “Maybe he likes me.”

              She laughs for several minutes before she can speak again.

              “Maybe he likes you? Maybe you like him! How about that. No, Reid, there is a problem here. It's something sinister. I am sure of it. So please be careful and keep this bit of information to yourself until I get more details. I am sure he had to go to high school somewhere because he went to college. Maybe somebody has a copy of his high school diploma.”

              “Maybe you should leave the man alone. Stop digging up the past. If he doesn’t want anybody to know, leave it hidden,” I say, not wanting her to get carried away.

              “Will you please listen to me on this! He is sketchy, little brother. The last thing you need in your life is a sketchy character.”

              “He isn’t sketchy; he is cagey. And honestly, if you think mom and dad were dysfunctional, his family makes them look like nominees for the Parent of the Year Award. I will ask him about it if it ever comes up, but I am sure there is a reasonable explanation. Maybe he wasn’t born Liam. Maybe he was born Martha.”

              “Why are you so willing to disregard everything I am saying? He isn’t one of your kids down at the center. He is a grown ass man with enough money to buy this entire city.”

              “So?”

              “So, there is a thin line between generous and foolish and you are dancing all over it. I have a bad feeling about him, Reid. Please, just don’t ignore any warning signs because you want to see him as a poor little rich boy. He isn’t. He is dangerous.”

              When I hang up, everything seems a little hazier than it was before. I don’t want Darlene to dig up whatever Liam has buried in his past. I don’t want to be disappointed by him, but I also don’t want him to live under the yoke of the person he used to be. I understand how hard that can be. We already have to deal with Ruairi and Clarissa teaming up to possibly destroy my life’s work. Unearthed skeletons are the last thing we need.

              I make my way back to the kitchen and finish cooking. When I knock on Liam’s door, he is once again buried in work, blocking out the world.

              “I can’t figure out what the move is,” he says, as soon as he sees me.

              “What move?”

              “Ruairi’s move. Why would he send her here? It’s no coincidence that he chose her of all people for this rec center project. He wants something, and I thought it was just to ruin everything. But, it doesn’t seem like that’s it. There are a lot easier ways to get you fired and shut down the center. So what’s his end game?”

              “Stop thinking so much about that.” I place the tray with dinner down on his desk.

He blinks hard several times before biting his bottom lip and crossing his arms across his chest. “What am I missing here?”

              “What?”

              “He sent her here because she is a problem. That much is clear. Why would she be a problem?”

              I clench my teeth, trying to swallow my annoyance. I am not in the habit of lying. I am also not willing to sell out a woman who had been very good to me in the past. Perhaps she wasn’t always the best friend in the world, but she was always my truest friend. The suspicion in Liam’s voice prickles my sensibilities.

              “You know, I have had just about all of the suspicion and espionage I can take for one evening.”

              “Oh really?” Liam’s eyebrows shoot up as he leans back in his chair. His eyes issue an open challenge that I simply can’t ignore.

              “Let me ask you something. What were you doing 15 years ago?”

              “Middle school, I think.” His face gives nothing away.

              “Where?”

              “Out east.”

              “Can you be more specific?”

              “No. What does this have to do with anything?”

              “I just spent ten minutes on the phone with Darlene convincing her that the fact that there are no records of Liam McClehllan until about a decade ago is not a reason to become paranoid. Some things, whatever those things are, should be left in the past. And now I come in here and…”

              I turn away from him, unable to stomach the conversation anymore. “The past doesn’t just go away. It finds us. Believe me, I know.”

              “She got pregnant, okay. She got pregnant, and I made her lose it.” I don’t turn around to face him. Not only because I am angry, but because I am ashamed. There are a few things that I have done that will haunt me forever, and the image of Clarissa in tears, covered in her own blood will never leave me. I will always owe her. Whatever she has become since that night is my fault. I did that to her, and I can’t take it back.

              “I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me more. I think I can put the rest of it together on my own.”

              I hear Liam’s fork clicking against the plate before I leave the room. I drop my body into the sofa cushions in the living room and Buster, sensing my upset, places himself in my lap. His quiet insistence that I pet him, shoving his nose under my hand and lightly thumping his tail, is soothing.

              I don’t lie to myself. I haven’t made good decisions. I have hurt people. But there are some things I hope I never have to confront. I am not sure I am strong enough to deal with them. Clarissa and the things that might have been are on that list. The things she lost that night, she can never get back. Even if she takes my center from me, I will still owe her.

Then

“Is she going to be okay?”

“She will recover with time, but there are other concerns,” the pensive doctor looked back and forth between Mrs. Jones and me.

“It’s okay if we talk in front of him. We are like family,” she squeezed my hand lightly.

“There has been a lot of trauma to her uterus. We couldn’t save the baby. I am sorry. But she may need a partial hysterectomy. If that happens…”

              Mrs. Jones staggered backward, taking deep gulps of air as she looked at me with wide, unseeing eyes.

              “Oh no, my baby,” she moaned, tears filling her eyes.

              “No chance at all?” I sounded stupid and young. I was unsure what a partial hysterectomy was, but I knew it meant she probably wouldn’t be having babies with me or anybody else.

              “I am sorry. We still have to wait and see how extensive the damage is. If we can save her uterus we will,” the doctor said, sounding more contrite and sympathetic than I ever remember any doctor sounding. “How did this happen?”

The question hung in the air like a poisonous cloud. I was the only one who could explain, and the pharmaceutical-induced haze surrounding my brain wasn’t making that task any easier.

              “We were fighting,” I said. “We were just arguing. I didn’t push her. I swear.” Fear coiled itself around my throat and choked me. I was sick to my stomach and dizzy, the way I had been for the last three hours.

              “Why were you fighting?”

              I felt the tears slip down my face, but my skin was too numb to feel their warmth. A side effect of opioid abuse.

              “I told her I didn’t want the baby. I told her I didn’t want any kids. I hate kids. But, I didn’t push her. I didn’t touch her at all. She was standing there, and it was steep. I knew it was steep, but she was standing on her own, and I would never touch her,” remorse squeezed me, pressing the truth out of me in incoherent ramblings. Her mother stood there with wide eyes, piecing together the events that led us to this moment as I babbled on.

              “I just turned around. I didn’t know. I didn’t know!” The sound of my panic infuriated her. In two strides she launched herself at me, slapping my half numb face and screaming incoherently. I didn’t bother to lift my hands to block her blows. I stood there until I felt the one emotion I had been hiding from all along. Pain. I felt crippling, agonizing pain. Pain over the absence of people I lost, pain over the tiny life cut short by my negligence, pain over the children Clarissa would never have. Because, despite the doctor trying to sound optimistic, I knew Clarissa would never be whole again. Life was never that kind to me. To this day, I am not entirely sure that I didn’t push her.