Out of the Blue (13 page)

Our empty apartment was even colder now that Jake wasn’t here. His presence had a warmth to it that would heat my bones, and even with the recent tension, I missed him like a limb.

I decided on a run and it wasn’t lost on me that I was doing exactly what Jake would’ve done. I needed the exhaustion of a long run to put my head in the game tomorrow morning, not only for work with the recruits, but I needed a plan to get Jake home, and for that I needed sleep.

After my run I climbed the apartment stairs on wobbly legs; San Francisco’s hills were a killer. As I unlocked the door I knew Jake had been home, I could smell him and my heart leapt with hope before plummeting all the way to my toes.

His laptop, phone and wallet were all gone. I dreaded going to our closet and seeing his side empty but I had a glimmer of hope when some of his clothes were still hanging there. He hadn’t taken everything and it reassured me I still had a chance of fixing us.

Showered and changed, I climbed into bed and hugged his pillow, breathing in his scent. I needed to connect with him somehow and knowing he wouldn’t answer his phone, I texted him.

I miss you, babe. I’m sorry.

As expected, the tears came, and I was too wrung out to stop them. With great wracking sobs, my tears mingled with Jake’s scent on his pillow.

He never replied.

Administrative duty sucked, along with my attitude. The recruits didn’t know me, so to them, my standoffishness and snappish demeanor were normal.

I texted Jake every morning and every night, telling him I loved him and missed him, and I always apologized. He never replied.

My heart jumped, then nose-dived every time I got a call or text, but it was never Jake.

I was permanently tired and my aching chest was a reminder of what was missing. My skin prickled with cold despite the arrival of summer. Each day, after pulling my hair out with the recruits, I would head out for a run. The nights I spent alone in our larger-than-life bed were a killer, and I needed to exhaust myself. Each night I hoped I would see Jake out running, but I never did. Was he still running? I couldn’t imagine him stopping, especially now.

No matter how much I ran, though, it was never enough to guarantee exhaustion, and I spent most nights staring at the ceiling as I hugged Jake’s pillow. I wanted to crawl into a deep black hole and never come out.

I’d seen Brandon and Mason around the station a few times, and while Mason would have a sympathetic look, Brandon would clasp me on the shoulder and say, “Hurry the fuck up, buddy.” It was his way of saying I was missed.

Kris was avoiding me. Whenever our paths crossed, his smile would waver, and with a pensive expression, he’d shake his head, then disappear from the break room. Other times he’d open, then close his mouth. His eyes were sad, and I knew he wanted to talk but seemed afraid we actually would.

I needed to set Kris straight. I didn’t want to lose his friendship since he had become one of the best friends I had, but I couldn’t let him think there could ever be anything between us, even if Jake never came back.

Cornering Kris in the break room Wednesday afternoon, I smiled as my nerves bubbled under my skin. I rubbed the back of my neck. “Hey, do you think we can grab a beer after shift?”

Kris’s brow furrowed. “Uh, sure?” It sounded like a question and he looked conflicted, like he knew he should but didn’t want to.

“Good, that’s good, then. See you at six?”

“Yeah, man, sure.”

Kris’s expression was thoughtful as we sat opposite each other in the booth at our local bar. His eyes were filled with worry, and I didn’t know where to start. I ordered a couple of beers from a passing waitress and prayed he would start the conversation.

When our order arrived, Kris looked like he wanted to say something. He fingered the label of his beer as he let out a huge sigh. Still nothing.

“Spit it out, buddy, I’m not going to bite,” I said, hoping to ease the tension.

Kris’s large shoulders heaved with a big breath, and he knocked over the salt.

“Shit. Sorry,” he said as he righted the shaker. Another sigh. “Are you okay? Are
we
okay? Is everything between you and Jake okay?” Kris was babbling.

Jesus, I thought
I
was nervous.

It was my turn to sigh. “No. It depends. And definitely not.”

“Oh. Hold on, what?” Kris asked, confused. He was a smart guy, but he played the dumb jock well.

“I’m not okay. It depends on what
you
think if we’re okay or not. And Jake and I are definitely
not
okay,” I clarified.

“Sorry, I spoke too quickly and I forgot what order my questions were in,” he said with a shy smile. “Wait a minute. What happened with Jake? You didn’t tell him about…” He waved a hand between us.

“I didn’t have to, he can read me like a book. He knew something had happened, and when he questioned me, I didn’t say anything… which basically confirmed it. He… he moved out.” My voice cracking on the last word, I played with a napkin as my throat tightened.

“Oh, man, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to kiss you.” Kris’s face paled as he pulled apart the beer label.

“It’s not your fault. Jake and I have been having problems for a while, and that was just the last straw, you know?” My eyes burned as I remembered Jake as he walked out, taking my heart with him.

“What about us? You said it depends. On what?” Kris fidgeted so much he knocked over the sugar bowl, so I grabbed his hand to steady his movements, his eyes darting to mine in alarm.

“Kris, calm down. All I meant was if you plan on kissing me again, then we’re
not
going to be okay. Okay? I need Jake back.
I need him.
I like you but not like that. I want to keep you as a friend, a good friend, but we’re going to have problems if you want more from me,” I said, my tone serious.

Kris’s relief was almost comical. Flopping against the booth, he let out a huge sigh. “Thank god for that. Man, you’re not even my type. I like you as a friend too, but it’s been so long since I’ve been with a man, I’d almost forgotten what it felt like. Then I’m hugging you and you smelled so…
not female,
and…” Confusion colored his face. “And you kissed me back? What’s with that? Why’d you kiss me back?”

He’s bi?
Well, that explained things.

It was my turn to look sheepish. “I… Jake and I haven’t been… you know, touching. Or even talking, for that matter. It had been going on too long and when you hugged me it felt so… good… to be touched again, you know?” I swallowed thickly as I remembered how wrong Kris’s lips had felt.

“Man, we’re both fucked up, aren’t we?”

“Yep,” I agreed. “I need another beer. You want one?”

“Sure, I got nobody to go home to.”

“What? Where’s Nikky?” I questioned after the waitress had left with our order.

“Left. I told her the truth, again. She knows I’m bi. I guess we both hoped I’d settle down with her, you know? I loved her and all, and I like the ladies, but I’ve always seen myself with a man long-term. If I was going to marry a woman, though, it would’ve been her.” Kris looked a little lost and sad, exactly how I felt. “Wow, we really
are
fucked up.”

“You said it.” I raised my fresh beer. “Let’s get drunk.”

Hanging with Kris was good. Better than good even. I laughed for the first time in weeks, and it felt like my face was going to crack and fall off. My facial muscles felt unused and had forgotten how to move in certain ways.

Kris explained that although he loved Nikky, she couldn’t give him everything he needed. He liked a good hard fucking and he couldn’t get that from a woman. After he’d kissed me, he realized that he wasn’t doing either of them any favors by staying with her. So he let her go.

In one night, four people’s lives had changed dramatically. So we drank.

The following day was Thursday.

Therapy day.

And I was a little hungover.

My appointment time with Linda was four pm, and as I looked at my watch, I hoped it wasn’t four pm. Or Thursday. I needed help, I knew that, but the thought of spilling my guts to someone had said guts churning with unease.

The outer office was clean with pale muted green walls and generic landscape prints. A frosted glass door hid Linda’s office and its occupants from view. A few potted plants were well tended and I supposed were there make the clients—
Patients? Nut jobs?
—feel comfortable and at ease.

I wasn’t at ease. I was nervous as fuck as I sat on the edge of a standard brown armchair flipping through a motorcycle magazine, not looking at the pages.

At two minutes past the hour, Linda’s door opened. “Lieutenant Cooper? Hi, it’s good to see you again. Please come in.”

Opening the door wider, she gestured for me to take a seat at her desk. Her office was painted the same color green with matching generic prints as the outer room, and the bookshelves behind her desk were filled with what appeared not only to be textbooks but paperback novels as well. The same well-tended plants were placed around the room, and I sat in a dark brown armchair that matched the one in the outer office.

I’d met Linda a couple of times before as everyone at the station had come to see her at some point in their career, although this office was new.

“New office?” I tried to smile, but I’m sure it ended up being a smirk.

“Yes, I haven’t been here very long. The other office was downtown, but I think I like it here better.” I remembered the other office. It had been a hideous yellow and I was grateful that someone had put a little more thought into this one.

My first session opened with the standard questions: How was my family? How was I finding my position at Engine Thirteen? Were there any problems with the crew? And my favorite—was I on the receiving end of any harassment due to my sexuality?

My answers were short, my foot tapping the floor. I wasn’t able to hide my expression, and Linda could probably tell I didn’t want to be there.

She sat back in her chair, relaxed and comfortable in her silence, and her contemplative look pissed me off. She waited, but I was just as silent.

Finally, Linda looked at my file again and said in her quiet voice, “Tell me about your partner… Jake, isn’t it?”

My annoyance fled and I was left chilled. I tried to school my features as I felt the telltale shiver that ran through me whenever I thought about Jake. I refused to think of him as my ex. He wasn’t my ex until I gave up on him and that wasn’t going to happen. I missed him more in that moment than any other, and my chest felt like it had been ripped open and hollowed out.

Linda’s eyes brightened, though her features remained expressionless.

I was at a loss for anything to say. What could I say? My boyfriend of nine years upped and left because I’ve been a weak coward? I don’t know what to do or how to get him back and my life is falling apart? How did I explain the gaping hole in my chest? How did I explain any of it to a virtual stranger?

“Tell me about Jake. What does he do for a living?” Linda asked, her tone matching the color of the walls, soft and peaceful.

Questions like those I could answer. “He’s a financial analyst.” Although my answer was short in length, the sharpness of my tone from earlier was gone.

“A stockbroker?”

“No, he analyzes other companies’ accounting systems. He knows how a company’s accounts should look. He usually gets the clients that suspect fraudulent activity,” I answered, feeling proud of him.

“So, a numbers man,” Linda added, almost to herself.

“It was supposed to be just sex,” I said, thinking out loud. Linda looked intrigued by my segue so I continued.

“We met at a party about a month before I dropped out of Berkeley. Jake had just moved from Chicago after his parents’ death, and I’d seen him around campus. We’d been eyeing each other all week. Jake wasn’t looking for a relationship, and I was busy jumping from guy to guy.”

I looked at Linda. “Funny how your life can change in an instant, isn’t it?” She didn’t answer my rhetorical question.

“I moved in with him the following month,” I continued. “His inheritance enabled him to rent an apartment not far from campus. Just before he graduated he bought the apartment where we live now. He had it remodeled, turned two of the bedrooms into one and extended the attached bathroom, then knocked out the wall between the kitchen and living room, making it open-plan. When he first showed me, I loved it. It was perfect for us, still is.” I smiled at the memory.

“How long had you been together then?”

I shrugged. “A little over a year maybe. I was studying toward my fire science degree at the community college by then, and Jake always planned to move to the city after graduation. I wanted to work at an inner-city station, so being in Telegraph Hill made sense. We had never questioned our commitment to each other. It was a known quantity.”

With general questions about Jake, his family, and work, the remaining minutes of our first session dwindled. I answered willingly, often giving more details than the question required, and I felt lighter as I headed home.

The next few sessions with Linda didn’t go as well as the first, and I usually left feeling deflated and depressed. She was supposed to make me feel better, dammit, not worse.

Linda latched onto the subject of Jake like a deranged pit bull, tearing at my exposed flesh until all that was left was cold, dead bone. Every question was about Jake and our relationship, and we’d have staring competitions like ten-year-olds. I refused to answer her questions, my mind in a constant whirl.

After our fourth session and third week since Jake’s departure, my nightmares changed a little. Jake’s body was motionless in my arms, and through my sobs, I watched his life force evaporate. As the light went out in his eyes, a gray, smoky figure rose and started to walk away, silvery wisps barely touching the pavement. After a few steps, Jake’s ethereal body turned and whispered, “Why didn’t you save me, Romeo?” and with sad eyes he turned and evaporated into the darkness.