“You should go now. You said what you came here to say.”
Frustrated and helpless, I ran a hand through my hair, feeling my eyes go damp. “I don’t know what to fucking do. I’m being torn apart from the inside out. I don’t want to live without you in my life, but I can’t bring myself to change my mind.”
“Then this is goodbye.” His voice shook. “I want nothing more than to be with you, to take care of you and let you take care of me. I’d even begun to imagine a future for us—a family. To me, that’s what’s crazy about this. You’re turning away a chance at your dream because it doesn’t look exactly like you wanted it to. But I can’t make it into anything else.”
He was right. And he was so much smarter and perceptive and stronger than I’d given him credit for.
“Go,” he said firmly. “I have work to do.”
But I couldn’t leave. “Tell me first. I want to hear the words.” I’d never hated myself more than I did at that moment. But I needed him to love me.
“I love you.” His eyes held mine, his voice was calm. “Now go punish yourself for it.”
With a sob caught in the back of my throat, I turned away and stormed up the stairs, back through the kitchen and restaurant and out the door.
He knew me too well. He saw me.
It was painful, like the desert sun on skin already burned and blistered.
I didn’t sleep at all.
Thirty-Four
MAXIM
Days went by.
I fixed up my apartment. I worked long hours. I invested in an old laptop I found for sale on Craigslist. I researched immigration law.
I enrolled in an online English class I could afford. I inherited a bicycle that needed work from a regular at The Blind Pig and repaired it, so I wouldn’t have to pay for the bus all the time.
And I missed Derek every fucking minute.
I tried to put on a smile at work, but it was hard. Finally, a week after Derek had left me in pieces in the basement at work, Ellen approached me toward the end of a shift.
“Come on, my friend. We’re checking out early and we’re going to get a drink somewhere. I’ve had all I can take of this miserable silence.”
I didn’t have it in me to argue. And I needed a friend.
We walked down the street to another bar, and slid onto stools next to each other. She ordered a glass of wine, and I asked for a beer, and while we waited for it, she propped an elbow on the bar and he chin in her hand.
“Spill it.”
“Spill it?”
She nodded. “Spill it. It means talk. Tell me what’s bothering you.”
I shook my head. “I can’t. It would mean betraying a confidence.”
“Okay, then I’ll guess.” She put her hands in her lap and sat up taller. “This is about you and my brother. You have feelings for each other. He’s being stubborn and won’t admit it, so you had to walk away.”
My eyes went wide. “That’s a little creepy, even for me.”
She smiled briefly. “I’m good.” Then she sobered again. “But this is not good. Tell me how you feel about it.”
I struggled with the decision. If I was honest with her, it meant outing Derek, and that wasn’t my place.
“If you’re worried about telling me Derek is gay, or at least gay where you’re concerned, you can forget it. He’s made that really fucking obvious all by himself.”
“He has?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes! You know I had my suspicions anyway, and then that night at dinner at his house, there was just this…vibe in the room. I could see it between you. Then he broke it off with Carolyn. Then he’s coming up here all the time, and it sure as heck wasn’t to see his sister.” She laughed, shaking her head. “The way his face lit up when he saw you made it pretty obvious. His aura was totally changed. Then there was the romantic weekend in Laguna Beach. I’m not sure what about that plan he thought said ‘I’m totally straight, nothing to see here,’ but that pretty much confirmed it, if I’d had any remaining doubt.”
All I could do was stare at her.
“Maxim, I think it’s wonderful.” She smiled, putting a hand on my arm. “Really.”
Our drinks arrived, and I took a long pull on my beer. “He doesn’t.”
“What happened? Can I ask?”
I was in desperate need of a sympathetic ear but wanted to be careful. “After the weekend away, I was ready to be more open. He wasn’t.”
“Give him time. He’s so stubborn, Maxim, always has been. And this is a huge thing for him. I told you how we grew up—he’s fighting all those demons.”
I nodded. “I get it. But I don’t think he really wants to win that fight. He’s hoping it goes away.”
She sighed and took a sip of her wine. “It isn’t going to.”
I lifted the bottle to my lips again rather than answer.
“So now what? Have you even spoken since you moved into your apartment? What about that night he came barging in here needing to see you?”
“That was the day I moved out. He…didn’t want me to go.”
“But he didn’t want you to stay?”
“No, he did. But in secret. I couldn’t do that to myself.” The rest of what we’d said, I kept to myself. Some things were too private and painful to share.
“No, nor should you. God, he drives me crazy sometimes. Is he worried about our parents?”
I nodded. “Among other things.”
“I hope he’s not worried about me.” She touched her chest. “I think it’s fucking perfect. And our brother David would too. We never bought into all that sin bullshit.”
“I think Derek did,” I said quietly.
She nodded and drank more wine. “In a way, yes. But part of me thinks it was more about pleasing the adults in his life. He bought in because it was expected of him.”
“Maybe.”
“I mean, there’s a lot of things wrong in this world. Terrible, cruel people. Abuse and injustice. For God’s sake, this is love. Some part of Derek must see that.”
“I wish he did.”
“And my dad is tough on him, even to this day, but part of me thinks my dad would appreciate that he’d raised a man strong enough to stand up for himself and what he wanted.”
I shrugged. I’d never met their dad, and I probably never would, so what did I know?
She put her hand on my arm again. “I’m sorry, Maxim. I wish I knew how to make it better.”
“It’s okay. There’s nothing either of us can do. It’s Derek’s choice.”
“Maybe he’ll still make the right one,” she said hopefully.
“I don’t know. I think his beliefs are too deeply ingrained. And please don’t say anything to him.” Suddenly I remembered what Derek had said about her inability to keep a secret.
“I won’t,” she assured me. “Even if he comes to me, I won’t tell him we talked. You’re safe.”
“Thank you. And thanks for listening.”
“Thank you for trusting me.” She tipped her head onto my shoulder. “I’ll be praying for you. To the gods, the goddesses, the universe, and anyone else who will listen.”
I laughed a little, but deep in my heart, I felt it was hopeless. The longer we went without talking, the more convinced I became that Derek had been able to move on.