Dorming With Dalton

[reed422]

Dorming with Dalton: Chapter Seventeen


I think we all like to think we’d never be that type of person. Whatever that means to each of us. I never thought I’d be a cheater. I kept trying to wrap my head around what happened with Dalton. I kept thinking about our time together and tried to rationalize it. Which would have been easier if I wasn’t the one who kissed him. If he kissed me, I could have called it a mistake and acted innocent in it and told Nicolas that day. It would have been different if he kissed me, but I had to kiss him. Six years. Six years went by without the guy being in my life and I kissed him after one conversation. As if nothing happened. But that was why I think I kissed him. Why I let him get so close to me. Why I didn’t push him away. Because it felt like nothing happened. I was still mad, still hurt, still not over it, but being with him, hearing his voice, seeing his face—it was like nothing happened. Like nothing changed. Except everything had.

I knew I had to tell Nicolas. I knew I had to be the bigger person and come clean about it. Not lie. Not rationalize it. Not make it something it wasn’t. I knew I needed to sit him down and just say ‘I kissed Dalton’ and deal with whatever fallout would follow. I knew I needed to, but I couldn’t. I’d think about it while with him and it would be at the tip of my tongue, begging my teeth to part, but I’d swallow it down. Maybe it was because I didn’t want to hurt him, but that was already accomplished. By kissing Dalton, I hurt him, whether he knows it or not. To me, I hurt him. I didn’t want to be this person. I never thought I’d be this person, but I was. And how I hated that I was. I hated I had to be around my boyfriend who before the weekend I was happy with. Who I thought was the one. The guy I’d spend nights unable to sleep looking at rings and thinking about places to propose to. But with one kiss, one stupid kiss, I wasn’t sure anymore and that scared me the most. Nicolas’ reaction was at the front of my mind, but my real fear stemmed from me not being sure anymore after one stupid kiss. A kiss I wish I never happened. A kiss I initiated. A kiss that kind of made me want more. And I felt awful for that, too.

His number was still in my phone. It was late and Nicolas was asleep next to me and I stared at the screen with his name and number. The name went blue when I clicked it which meant he still had that number. I should have deleted it. I should have gotten rid of his contact, turned my phone off, and went to be with my boyfriend who loved me. My boyfriend who never hurt me. But I didn’t. I typed message after message, deleting each of them, until I settled on the one I sent.

. 12:08 Why did you have to come back into my life?

I didn’t intend to.

But you did.

I can go just as easily.

12:22 I don’t know that I want you to.

I typed and deleted, typed and deleted, typed and deleted until I finally sent that message. It felt dirty to even about it. It felt dirtier that I sent it. I didn’t understand how I could be this person. How my boyfriend could be peacefully sleeping, oblivious to what I was doing. How I could acknowledge that, but keep doing what I’m doing. I truly never thought I’d be this person, but here I was. I didn’t know one person could make you drop everything you had. Well, potentially drop everything you have, but still. I was thinking about it. It wasn’t something I was proud of, but it was a thought. It was a thought that plagued me, if I’m being honest. It was only three days, but it occupied most of my brain. And I could have ignored it until it went away, but there’s something about midnight that just makes you make horrible decisions.

. 12:30 Can I see you?

I don’t know if that’s a good idea

Just to talk

Wednesday I have an hour for lunch

I work in the upper east side if you can swing that

I’ll meet you by the museum around one?

Just to talk.

Just to talk.

I thought about telling Nicolas all weekend. I thought about telling him all day at work when Monday came around. Patients asked how my weekend was and If my brother was excited he graduated and the only thing I could think of was telling Nic. I thought about telling him as we made dinner together. I thought about telling him after dinner when we vegged out on the couch before bed. I wanted to tell him, I just couldn’t. I didn’t know where to start. I didn’t know what the conversation would be yet. I knew I needed to tell him about the kiss, which I would, but I wanted to talk to Dalton before starting anything with Nicolas. I didn’t know if it would be a talk that ended with me being mad, if it would be a mutual mistake what happened, or if I was willing to throw everything away the last five years for a man who abandoned me. The fact I even could consider that made me feel crazy. It should have been enough to keep me from wanting to talk to Dalton in the first place, but it didn’t. After all this time, all the growth I’ve down, all the good that has come to me, a part of me still wanted Dalton. And maybe, just maybe, if he wanted me back, I wouldn’t be desperate or crazy.

The next two days dragged on. As it got closer, I felt worse. I was in a healthy, happy relationship with a man I loved and thought about proposing to and one interaction, one kiss had me unsure. It was probably a mistake to go see Dalton. It was probably a mistake to text him. It was a mistake to give him the time of day at the graduation. It was a mistake to not tell Nick right away. Everything felt like a mistake right now, but I already had my feet wet. I could have dried them off and fixed what I could and put it all behind me where it belonged, but I didn’t. I should have, but I didn’t. And I found myself dry heaving on my walk to the museum near the park. My conscious was telling me to turn around, but my legs kept going in the direction of the park. And when I saw him standing there, it felt like I was going to throw up, but still I kept walking.

“You came.”

“I probably shouldn’t have.”

“We don’t have to do this,” he reassured. “I don’t want to make any trouble for you.”

“I think I’m beyond that, Dalton.”

“Did you tell him?”

“Not yet.”

“So, you’re going to?”

“I have to.”

He nodded.

“Do you want to eat since it’s your lunch?”

“I don’t have much of an appetite.”

“Makes two of us,” I smiled.

He smacked his lips, “Wanna go for a walk?”

I nodded.

Being this close to him didn’t help my nerves. I could smell his cologne and I couldn’t help but think how dapper he looked in a suit. His shoes clacked against the stone walkway and it made me chuckle.

“What?”

“You’ve come a long way.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” he turned to smile and it made me want to melt into a puddle.

“Where’d you go when you left me?”

“I didn’t just leave you if that makes you feel better.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Worth a shot,” another smile. “I… left the country.”

“Why?”

“Not sure,” he said matter-of-factly. “I packed a bag and got on a plane and ended up in Brazil. The company donates to Habitat for Humanity and I found myself in Brazil building houses for a while.”

“You broke up with me to build houses?”

“When you put it like that, it makes you sound self-absorbed.”

I paused, “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant,” he touched my lower back, “I’m just teasing you.”

“Right,” I inhaled sharply.

“I know it wasn’t right to break up with you how I did and then not give you a chance to talk to me or yell at me. I know it wasn’t right to drop it on you without warning and I’m sorry. I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I know that I did.”

“You destroyed me, Dalton. Everything we went through that first year, you destroyed me. Everything was fine and then suddenly, it wasn’t.”

I stopped in my tracks hearing the words come out of my mouth. It didn’t hit that telling Nicolas what happened would do the same thing. It would make him feel exactly how I just described I felt when Dalton left me.

“And I hate you for it, Dalton. I hate you for it.”

“Christian,” he started.

“And now I hate you for making me you with my boyfriend. I’m going to make him feel the same way and I hate you.”

“Then why did you ask to see me?”

“Because I still want you,” I meekly replied. “Because after everything you put me through, I still want you. And I hate myself for even considering it, but here I am thinking about throwing away a four-year relationship for you. And I hate you for that. I hate me for that!”

“I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“Jesus, Dalton! Do you think just because you broke up with me, I stopped caring about you? That moving on in my life was easy. Or that despite being happy with Nicolas, a part of me still loves you. A part of me still wanted to be with you.”

He didn’t say anything.

“I kissed you. You leaned in and I could have pulled away and walked away and that would have been the end of it. That would have been where we ended. And maybe it should have been where we ended, but I’m in my scrubs in the middle of the day having this conversation with you instead because maybe I’m an asshole.”

“You aren’t an asshole.”

“No?” I scoffed. “How? I kissed you even though I have a boyfriend. A boyfriend who knows about you, knows about what you put me through. A boyfriend who supported me and was there for me. And this is how I treat him. How am I not an asshole?”

“Because I put you in the situation. I could have stayed away. I could have not looked for you. I should have thought nothing of the name being called at the graduation, but you’re on my mind. You’re always on my mind. I was selfish.”

“Maybe,” I shot back. “But I still am the one who kissed you. And I’m the one who texted you at midnight. And I’m the one who’s standing here thinking about kissing you again.”

“You aren’t the only one,” he kicked a pebble.

“That doesn’t make this easier.”

“I don’t want to complicate your life.”

“You already did!” I closed the gap between us. “By coming back into my life, you complicated it! I spent so much time getting over you. I spent so many days crying. So many days not eating. I transferred to Columbia just to get away from anything that was tied to you! You ruined me, Dalton! You ruine-“

He kissed me. He grabbed me by the arms and kissed me and I melted into him. I let him hold me in the middle of the walkway and kiss me and it felt right. It felt natural. It felt like we were supposed to be here in this exact moment. That everything that happened didn’t matter because we were here now. And I kissed him back. I wrapped my arms around his neck and passionately kissed him back. His left hand made its way to my lower back and pulled me into him. I pressed my body as closely to his that I could while our lips danced the dance they once mastered. The world around us felt like it was spinning and all my anxieties and fears melted away, but only for a moment. I remembered I’m still in a relationship and this is cheating.

“Dalton, I can’t,” I pushed against him.

“I want you. I know that you have a boyfriend, but I want you. I know you’re happy, but I want you. I want you, Christian. I want you to want to be with me. I want to fight for you. I want to show you how sorry I am. I want to win you back, to show you that I made a mistake. I don’t deserve it and I don’t deserve you, but I want you. I want you.”

“Dalton,” I started.

“I’m sorry for putting you in this situation. I’m sorry for forcing myself back into your life, but I see it as another chance. I know I don’t deserve it, but I couldn’t stay away. When I saw it was you, I couldn’t not try. If you can tell me right now that you don’t want anything to do with me, I’ll respect your decision. I won’t contact you again. I won’t bother you again. But if you can’t stand here and look me in the eye and tell me that, I’m going to fight for you.

“Letting you go was the biggest mistake I made. I know that’s selfish and I know I’m the reason for this, but I love you, Christian. I’ve always loved you. I should have come back sooner. I should have fought for you sooner. I’m sorry I didn’t, but I’m here now and if you’ll have me, I won’t stop fighting to show you just how sorry I am and just how important you are to me.”

“I can’t keep doing this to Nicolas.”

“So, don’t. Choose me. Be with me.”

“I have to go.”

“Christian!”

With tears in my eyes, I kept putting one foot in front of the other. I hated myself for being in the situation in the first place. I hate Dalton for making it harder. I hated Nicolas for being the perfect boyfriend. I hated that I even had to think about which one I wanted to be with. I hated how after all this time, how hard it was for me to get over Dalton, that I was considering going back to him. I had everything going for me before the weekend and with one kiss it didn’t feel like that anymore. With one kiss, it reminded me of why I was so distraught when he did leave me. Despite having Nicolas and being in love with him, one kiss gave me enough uncertainty to question everything. One kiss was all it took. And the second one, which I hated him for. Not because he did it, but because of how it made me feel. How it made me melt into the moment with him.

When I got back to the office, I tried to clear my head. I saw I had a patient in an hour and thought I’d be able to keep myself together, but I couldn’t. I rescheduled our time and asked my boss if I could have the rest of the day off because I wasn’t feeling well. I gathered my things and practically ran out of the hospital. Without asking her, I caught a cab up to my sister’s apartment. She quit her job when she got pregnant with her first child and liked being a stay at home so much she never went back. With her kids, too young to be in school, I knew she’d be home. I hoped she’d be home. I needed someone to tell me to snap out of this and just stay with Nicolas. To tell him that I made the mistake of kissing Dalton, but I know that I’m not meant to be with him. That It was just a mistake and hope he could forgive me. I just needed her to be herself and remind me how stupid I was being. At the corner where the cab stopped, I saw her pushing a stroller. I tapped my phone against the screen and scribbled an ineligible signature and literally ran a block to catch up with her.

“Christian?” she panicked. “You almost made me mace you!”

“Sorry,” I panted. “Sorry.”

“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Did something happen to mom?”

“No,” I gasped for air, “she’s fine. Everyone’s fine.”

“Then why are you here in the middle of the afternoon?” she lowered her voice. “Did you get fired?”

“Nope,” I sharply inhaled. “You don’t realize how long a block is until you sprint it.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I fucked up.”

“Language!” she pulled the cover back on the stroller to show my nephew sleeping.

“He’s asleep!” I quietly shouted

“No f-bombs.”

“I effed up, Leah.”

“With what?”

“Nick.”

“What did you do?”

“I kissed someone else.”

“That’s not super bad.”

“It was Dalton.”

“No!”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “At Vincent’s graduation.”

“Christian!”

“And just now in the park!”

“Christian!” she hit my arm. “What is wrong with you!”

“I don’t know.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why was he at the graduation?”

“His niece graduated, too.”

“Did you know he was there?”

“No.”

“How’d it happen?”

“He found me,” we crossed the street in a herd of people. “He saw me when you all were doing photos and came up to me.”

“And you kissed him as a hello?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“He told me he was sorry.”

“So, you kissed him?”

“I got caught up in the moment.”

“Was it another moment just now?”

“He kissed me this time.”

“Did you push him off you?”

“Not necessarily.”

“So, you want him back?”

“I don’t know.”

“Christian,” she looked at me, “you know I hate the guy. I’ll never forgive him for what he did to you.”

This is what I needed to hear. This was the grounding I needed.

“But you loved him. You were so in love with him. We didn’t know what to do with you after the breakup. Mom and I were actually a little scared if you’d be okay again.”

“What’s your point?”

“If you’re asking me what to do, I can’t tell you. But you should tell Nicolas. You can’t decide what you want to do while he’s in the dark. Don’t be the guy that has two things going on at once.”

“I don’t want two things at once.”

“What do you want?”

“I really don’t know.”

“If you don’t know, I think you have your answer.”

“But you hate him.”

“I do,” she stopped in front of a Starbucks, “but you really loved him. And he must love you if after all this time, he came back. Do I think you’re stupid for leaving Nick for this guy who left you at the drop of a hat? Duh. Do I understand it? Sure. But one way or another, you should tell Nicolas. He deserves to know.”

“I came here because I thought you’d tell me to get my head out of my ass and stay with my boyfriend.”

“Do you want to?”

I paused.

“Why would I tell you to do that when it isn’t your first instinct?”

She had a point. I wanted to do the right thing, but it wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to be the good guy. I wanted to not hurt Nicolas like I had been, maybe even worse since Dalton didn’t leave me for someone else.

“I have to break up with him.”

“Um, yeah, Christian. You can’t have a boyfriend while you rekindle shit with your ex.”

“How do I break up with him?” I inhaled sharply and the street started to shake. “Oh, God. What did I do? What do I do, Leah?”

“Breathe,” she smiled. “For starters, breathe.”

“This makes me a horrible person,” I cupped my hands behind my head. “This makes me a shitty person.”

“Yeah, it does.”

“That doesn’t help!”

“It does make you a bad person, Christian, but things happen. You and Dalton had something special. You weren’t together for long, but what the two of you went through, I think bonded you. I don’t think Nick is going to understand and I don’t think you’ll ever be a good guy in his eyes again, but you should decide. You should decide if you want to be with Dalton or if you want to stay with Nicolas. You have to decide if you want to end a good thing for another chance with the guy who hurt you.”

“What would you do?”

“I can’t answer that for you,” she smiled at me. “What I can say is that life doesn’t fit the way we think it should. I never thought I’d have a kid before I was married, but here I am. Did people call me a w-h-o-r-e for it? Yeah, but I’m happy, Christian. I wouldn’t do it any other way if I could,” she squeezed my arm. “I think you know what you’re going to do. It’s scary, but I think you know.”

“I have to go.”

“I’m here if you need me. Mom and dad are here if you need them,” she gave me an awkward side hug. “It’s going to be okay, Christian. You will get through this.”

“Thanks,” I forced a laugh. “Really, thank you.”

I left her on the sidewalk and headed for the subway. I knew what I needed to do.

 

[Kyanimal]

What I can say is that life doesn’t fit the way we think it should.

^ Amen! (See my sig)

Reed bud! Very powerful stuff! Really quite Awesome!

MORE Please!

THANK YOU!!
Chaz

 

[Kyanimal]

Have you ever contemplated play/screen writing?

 

[reed422]

Have you ever contemplated play/screen writing?

I've been entertaining the idea of writing a book for a few years now. Nothing like this, though. Trying to make it more than a dream has proven difficult lol.

 

[highflyer99]

Hi Reed. I've just finished all 17 chapters, and I just want to say THANK YOU! for giving us this story. I think it's awesome that as a young writer you created such an appealing story and put it out there for scrutiny on this forum.

The first part I thought was sweet, sexy and addictive enough that I wanted to just keep reading. I liked a lot of the details you gave us about the main characters, their backgrounds, the clothes they chose to wear, Dalton's house, his jewellery. And the sex, of course. Yet somehow I found I wasn't drawn to the characters as much as I'd have liked. I didn't have an emotional connection to them, for some reason, though I'm not sure why.

But then came the two new chapters, after six years, and they were something else -- way more engaging, more intense, your writing was so much more assured. I was riveted. I could really feel for Christian and his dilemma. I loved it, and I want more. I really hope there's more to come!

I totally get how you felt the first part of the story had run its course, that writing it had helped you develop as a person, and that you felt the need to move on from it. I think the bridge and the new scenario are great. I'm a bit surprised at how few comments the new chapters attracted. They deserve way more attention, and I hope you'll give us some more chapters for readers to rally around!

Cheers, HF

 

[bs29697]

Hi Reed. I've just finished all 17 chapters, and I just want to say THANK YOU! for giving us this story. I think it's awesome that as a young writer you created such an appealing story and put it out there for scrutiny on this forum.

The first part I thought was sweet, sexy and addictive enough that I wanted to just keep reading. I liked a lot of the details you gave us about the main characters, their backgrounds, the clothes they chose to wear, Dalton's house, his jewellery. And the sex, of course. Yet somehow I found I wasn't drawn to the characters as much as I'd have liked. I didn't have an emotional connection to them, for some reason, though I'm not sure why.

But then came the two new chapters, after six years, and they were something else -- way more engaging, more intense, your writing was so much more assured. I was riveted. I could really feel for Christian and his dilemma. I loved it, and I want more. I really hope there's more to come!

I totally get how you felt the first part of the story had run its course, that writing it had helped you develop as a person, and that you felt the need to move on from it. I think the bridge and the new scenario are great. I'm a bit surprised at how few comments the new chapters attracted. They deserve way more attention, and I hope you'll give us some more chapters for readers to rally around!

Cheers, HF

Hi Reed. I enjoyed reading your entire story and agree with the comments HF made and would love it if you would give us a few more new chapters to get the readers to rally around your story again.

Brian

 

[reed422]

Oh, wow. Thanks for all the kind words from the people who have read the newer chapters! I'm glad people are enjoying the new air of this story. I've wrestled with what to do with this story for years, if you can believe that. I have a connection to it, as weird as that sounds. It's like a comforting familiarity. So, when I finally decided to try continuing this, I hoped people would still be interested in it, even though the voice is different than what it was all those years ago. I love Christian and Dalton, but hated how I created them literally over ten years ago. I was young and superficial and didn't know what life could or would hold and I think that shows when you read the early chapters. Being able to change what can be changed by fast forwarding six years in time within this story has been exciting and I'm more than glad people are finding it enjoyable as well. So, thank you for the kind words and the interest again. I plan to update this when I can and hopefully tell a new story of the two.

Dorming with Dalton: Chapter Eighteen

I watched the blades of the ceiling fan spin in my childhood bedroom. I took the remainder of the week off and found myself held up in my parents’ apartment. Whatever I fit into a backpack and one duffle bag was all I managed to take. My mom told me she’d coordinate something with a mover to get the rest of my stuff and I was grateful she did because I didn’t care right now. There wasn’t much I cared about right now. The only thing I managed was watching the blades with stickers on them for hours a day. I knew it was going to be hard, but I didn’t know it would feel like this. I didn’t know I’d feel sick to my stomach or that my knees would give out when I would walk. I just wanted to close my eyes and forget it.

“I kissed Dalton.”

“You…what? What?” he rubbed his temples. “What are you saying?”

“I kissed him,” I choked up. “Dalton. I kissed him.”

“How?”

“At the graduation.”

“How!”

“You were with Vincent.”

“And you kissed him!”

“I’m sorry,” I took a step towards him, but he took one away. “I’m sorry, Nicolas.”

“Do you love him?”

I just stood there fighting the urge to cry.

“Do. You. Love. Him.”

“Yes.”

The words were like ice.

“Did you ever stop?”

“I thought I did.”

“So, what was I? What was this!” he motioned to the apartment we shared together. “Was all of this for nothing!”

“Nick, please,” a tear ran down my face. “This was real. What I felt for you was real!”

“But not real enough, right?” he laughed. “It couldn’t have been worth much if one kiss is all it took for you to throw it away!”

He bent in half and put his hands on his knees.

“What the fuck, Christian!”

“I’m sorry,” I choked. “I’m so sorry.”

“You two are perfect for each other,” I heard him sniffle his nose. “You both have zero concern for the people who love you.”

“I didn’t mean to,” I sobbed.

“You didn’t mean to!”

“Please-“

“The guy fucked you over! You told me how badly he fucked you over, Christian! And you want to be with him!”

The tiny foyer in our tiny apartment felt huge. We felt worlds apart from each other. I could feel I lost him already. That after this, he would be gone. I’d be nothing to him.

“I’m sorry!”

“Yeah, I know,” he groaned. “That’s all you keep saying. You’re sorry.”

I silently sobbed.

“Do you want to be with him? Please, just answer me that.”

“Yes.”

He exhaled heavily through his mouth.

“I’m sor-“

“Just stop,” his tone changed. “Enough.”

He looked at me and it was like he looked right through me. That nothing was there anymore.

“I loved you,” he grabbed his keys off the table we kept by the door. “I really loved you.”

He wrestled his hand into the small pocket of his coat. He pulled out a fist with a box in it. I started to cry harder before he even opened it.

“Here,” he threw the opened box at me, hitting my chest. “I’ve been carrying this around for weeks.”

“Nicolas!” I loudly sobbed, begging.

“I’m done,” he smirked. “Be with Dalton. You deserve him.”

“I’m sorry!” I wailed, barely standing up. “I’m sorry!”

“I’m sure,” he slowly shook his head. “Just like I’m sure you loved me.”

And he left.

“But I do,” I said to myself.

It played on a loop since Wednesday night. Thinking about it was all I could do besides stare at the ceiling fan while in bed. If this is what I wanted, why did it feel this way? Why did it not only hurt Nicolas, but me? If this is what I was supposed to do, why wasn’t I sure. Why wasn’t I with Dalton already. Why didn’t I tell him yet. Why was I locked in my childhood bedroom, called out of work sick, not able to eat. If this is how it was supposed to be, why was it so hard and why did it make me feel like I lost something that I should have held on to. Why did I spend most of the day crying until my eyes hurt too much to keep open? Why did I hear my parents murmuring to each other just beyond the wood door, trying to keep their concerns muted? I just did not feel like I made the right choice.

I used the remainder of my sick days for the following week and I felt crazy for doing it. But I was depressed. I was so depressed I gagged while eating a piece of fruit of a single piece of toast my mom brought in my room because she forced me to eat something. The light from behind the curtains hurt when the sliver of sun eventually landed on my face around noon. I’d cry until I’d fall asleep and then when I woke up, I’d do it again. It was horrible. I was horrible. And I think that’s what was gnawing at me. I was a horrible person. No doubt to it. I was a horrible person. I am a horrible person. Another human being saw me at my worst and still took my hand and dragged me out of the low I was in. That same person grew to love me so much that we crossed an entire ocean just so he could show me to his family. And that same person loved me so much, he carried a stupid ring in his stupid jacket for weeks waiting for the perfect time to solidify me in his life. And it destroyed me. I didn’t want to feel better because I destroyed him. He would eventually love again and find someone to share his life with and I will be the person in the story he tells that person that Dalton was to me. I managed to come full circle and it devastated me.

It was the second weekend that passed since we went our separate ways and I still hadn’t reached out to Dalton. I didn’t reach out to anyone. My phone was turned off since that night. It just was too much. I knew there’s be message after message either signaling support or expressing anger. And either was beyond what I could handle right now. But that made me hate myself in an entirely new way. I was a horrible, weak, selfish person. Was this who I was? Is this the person I was destined to be? Because if it was, I didn’t want it. It all waged a war inside my head, bouncing off my skull with a deafening ricochet. I’d clutch my hands to my ears and sob in bed, praying for it to stop. My mother told me that it hurt this much because it mattered. And she was right, but it was too much of a greeting card message to fully get through to me right now. There wasn’t much that could get through to me right now. I didn’t let anything. I knew what I needed to do to help myself, but there’s a comfort when you get to such low place where the darkness begins to hug you back. And I was in a full-on embrace with it at this point.

There was a knock on my door at some point that Saturday evening that I ignored like every other time. Except this time, it didn’t open right after. Whoever was on the other side of the old oak door waited for a response, but I didn’t give one. They knocked again and I heard a murmur that sounded like my mom before the hinges creaked like clockwork as it opened. I remained entangled in the comforter with my back to the door and whoever was in my room. The hinges made their age known once more before the latch caught and the person lingered.

“How’re you doing, Christian?”

I couldn’t believe he was here.

"Not well,” I feigned a laugh.

“You don’t have to put on an act,” I heard him pull the chair at my desk out. “I can still tell when you’re lying.”

I sighed, “I’m really not doing well.”

“I know,” he said kindly. “Your mom gave me a call. Can’t say I was excited to talk to her.”

A small, almost inaudible laugh passed through my lips.

“She is feisty.”

“Oh, I know.”

We both shared a short laugh.

“But, she told me she’s worried about you. She doesn’t know what to do. Thought I could help.”

“How sad is it that a twenty-five-year old’s mom has to get involved in her son’s life.”

“I have to admit, Christian, that I’m a little worried, too.”

He was soft with his approach. Gentle, even.

I signed again, “I’ll be fine. I’m going back to work Monday. I guess I’ll look for apartments since I’m homeless now.”

“You don’t have to bounce back like that.”

“It’s not so much bouncing back as it is keeping the little sanity I have by not living at home.”

I heard him quietly chuckle. I groaned as I rolled over and then slowly sit up. I’m sure I looked as horrible as a felt. I rubbed my hands against my eyes before they dropped to my cheeks and then went in a half circle up to my hair.

“Ugh, this sucks.”

“It looks it.”

“Don’t be rude,” I shot at him, but he gave me one of his smiles. “Why did you come?”

“I care about you.”

A single butterfly feeling appeared in my stomach.

“I need time, Dalton.”

“I know.”

He sat, staring at me, and through the darkness in my room, I admired his strong features.

“He was going to propose, you know.”

He just stared.

I nodded my head repeatedly.

“Yeah,” my voice cracked. “It, um, was the icing on the cake.”

I tried to not cry in front of him, but I was unsuccessful. The tears escaped my eyes and the pain in my throat that spread to my jaw while I tried to hide it grew too much. I let go of it and started to sob in front of him. He went to get up, but I held my hands up.

“I just don’t want you right now.”

He looked hurt, but he nodded.

I took a deep breath, “I need some time, Dalton.”

“Of course.”

“I don’t trust you, “I sniffled my nose.

“Understandable,” the hurt in his face grew.

“I don’t trust you, yet I ruined a relationship I was happy in,” I laughed for some reason. “That makes me crazy.”

“I’m sor-“

“Stop,” I closed my eyes and tilted my head. “Just stop with that. Please.”

“Understood.”

When I opened my eyes, he was sitting, poised, in the chair and he felt small. He towered over me at six foot three and had so many pounds of muscle beyond me, yet he felt incredibly small in the moment.

“What do you want, Dalton?”

“You.”

The butterflies grew in sensation.

“But why? Why after all this time? Why fuck our lives up for something from six years ago?”

“I’m probably nobody’s first choice for you and I’ve earned that. I’ll have to carry that for the rest of my life—I know that—but I want you. If you’ll have me. However long you need. However small you want me in your life right now, I’ll do it.”

“How do I know you won’t just leave again? Because I can’t go through that again, Dalton.”

“I won’t.”

“That’s not enough for me.”

“I’ve been in therapy for three years,” I sensed the slightest change in his posture and saw his hands start to fumble with each other. “I came back and thought I was better. It helped, don’t get me wrong, but it wasn’t enough.”

He was wearing a tie for some reason and his hands fumbled with it to give his neck some space. He also undid the top button that looked like it was suffocating him.

“I, uh, don’t talk about this—I don’t like to. It goes against everything I thought I knew and was believed to understand about what it means to be Spanish and a man, but you deserve to know. But, uh, those two years after I was in Brazil, I started to get my shit together. I graduated, took my spot in the company like my dad wanted, and returned to what my life was before I left. And it worked, or at least it felt like it did, but I kept getting that urge to run. It felt like I was suffocating all the time or that the world around me was on full blast with static.

“Um, so, like three years ago I went to the doctor because I thought there was something wrong with me. I’d be sweating all the time, my heart felt like it was going to explode at times, and I’d get dizzy, but he ran every test and nothing came back. And we had a conversation about mental health which was the first time I’ve ever done that and he referred me to someone.

“Didn’t want to go,” he awkwardly laughed. “Gia forced me. Literally took me to my first appointment.”

“She’s also feisty,” I joked.

“For real,” the way he said it, it was almost like he had an accent. “But, uh, turns out I have PTSD.”

He smacked his lips while continuing to fumble his hands.

“Um, never dealt with some stuff from my parents. Pushed too far ahead without grieving properly he told me. He said when I broke up with you, it was probably the first episode I had of it that triggered a fight or flight response and as we all know, I chose flight. Literally.”

A laugh escaped my mouth.

“The health stuff I had going on was symptoms of PTSD. He prescribed me some low dose medication and sleeping pills in case there were nights I couldn’t shut my mind off because apparently, I have anxiety too. But, um, I’ve been seeing him twice a month for the last three years. Sometimes I see him more when I need to, sometimes I can go a few months. It’s a journey. I’m realizing it’s a journey.

“I’m not using this as an excuse for what happened, Christian. Um, I have pain from what I did to you that I don’t know will ever go away. And maybe I’m being selfish for wanting you back in my life, but I do. To whatever capacity you’ll allow me. I know relationships are about two people, but I will literally do whatever it is you need from me at your pace for however long. You showed me what love looks like. I thought I knew and thought I knew what I would need from a person, but you changed it all for me. You still change it for me. And if I’m lucky enough to have another chance at loving you, Christian, I promise I will never, ever hurt you again because I couldn’t imagine living in a world where you’re this upset.”

He reached across the space between us and wiped the tears from under my eyes.

“I know you’re broken right now. I know you need time. I want you to heal at your pace, however long that takes. But I’d like to be in your life while you do it.”

I heavily exhaled, “That is a lot right now.”

“I know and I’m sorry, but I just wanted you to know. I’ll head out now so you can rest, but I hope you feel better soon and I hope you reach out if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Dalton.”

He gave me a smile before he opened the door one final time.

“You can leave it open,” he lingered in the hallway. “I’ve locked myself in here long enough.”

“Good for you, Christian.”

 

[Kyanimal]

Whoa! Reed dude! Heavy, Awesome, Fantastic stuff! Extra points for presentation! Very effective style, bud!

Yep! Things change. There is folk lore/wisdom, backed by some scientific studies, that we humans tend to 'run' in 7 yr. cycles. Perspectives shift. The ground under our feet moves. How we adapt, or don't, shapes our futures. Hopefully, by those times that happens, we've gained what more we need to accommodate, and move on to what's next. I appreciate where you're coming from.

THANK YOU!!
Chaz

P.S.
I was imagining what Christian's room must have smelled like.

 

[bs29697]

Wow Reed!!!! great writing. Christian was able to leave Dalton with a better head space than Dalton was able to leave Christian when he left. I hope you will write more stories here soon.

Brian

 

[VAhotboy]

Reed, I just read the entire story in one read through. Amazing story, but I hope beyond hope that you find a way to let us experience the emotions and challenges which lie ahead for Christian and Dalton. Well and beautifully done!!

Jim

 

[highflyer99]

Wow Reed! I've just found this latest chapter, and I'm so glad you're continuing the story. This chapter was awesome, mate. I could feel Christian's anguish, and loved how Dalton bared his soul about his own troubles. Both characters are deeply emotional, and their path to finding peace and stability might not be smooth, but it looks like they're about to take the first steps.

Thanks so much for this new chapter, and I'm looking forward to the next one, wherever you get the chance.

Cheers, HF

 

[reed422]

-19-

Being at work was tough. Every single person in the office asked where I was and I didn’t tell a single soul. I made up some family emergency about an already deceased distant relative that nobody knew about. I didn’t like all the lying I was doing recently. It felt like I was a shell of the person I was just a few months ago, but it was the only way I knew how to get through this. There were two people at the office I wanted to tell, but I just wasn’t ready. It was hard enough being back without anyone offering sympathy or opinions on my life. I’d face them eventually.

My mom was as suffocating as a mother can be. Let alone an Italian one. My father often kept to himself, but he’d even yell at her for pestering me about everything. I desperately wanted to hug him like I did when I was small, but it just wasn’t the relationship we had as adults. That’s a part of why I think I clicked with Nicolas so well. His parents were Greek and still lived in the small town they grew up in. He understood European parents and their lack of emotion. He understood your dad didn’t hug you and barely offered any kind words because showing affection like that made you weak. And then being gay in a family like that was a whole other dynamic he understood. I missed that. I missed how easy it was with him. I missed how easy it would be with him. How safe it felt. How loved I felt. And a part of me started to resent Dalton for ruining it.

True to his word, though, Dalton gave me space. He didn’t reach out to me and I was grateful because I had a lot of new hate towards him. I vented to my sister about it. A lot. We drank too much wine during my first week back to work and would just spend hours every evening talking shit about him. It helped. It was good to laugh with her about how shitty he was. How stupid I was for wanting him back. And just how I wasn’t as crazy as I felt for messing up my entire life. Her fiancé judged us, but would eventually join in on the shit on Dalton fest we were having. I was grateful for them. I loved them for it. I realized just how loved I was on my own without a relationship. And it gave me a sliver of hope that I’d be okay. That Nicolas would be okay. And I started to hope that one day, maybe in the distant future, we could reconnect and I could express how sorry I am for hurting him.

It was the following Friday night and I was babysitting my nephew so my sister could have a date night with her fiancé. I was glad It was a night without any alcohol because I desperately needed to detox from it. I just put my nephew down when my phone went off. I took my place on the couch and swiped the screen up to see a notification from Dalton. The anger I had towards him started to recede a day or two ago and my initial response to delete it took a backseat.

I’m trying to give you space, but you said you needed to find an apartment. My real estate agent is free tomorrow if you are and you want to look at some places.

I’m sure my family has a real estate agent they know.​

If you change your mind, let me know.

I typed and deleted message after message.

It would be nice to not have my mom involved.​

Should I let her know we’re in for tomorrow morning?

We?​

I figured we could do it together, but I can send her your info if you rather do it alone.

I spent minutes staring at the ceiling thinking about what to do. It was only three weeks since everything happened with Nicolas. It felt too soon to be involved with Dalton, but then again, nothing was going how I planned.

No…that’s fine. It might be good to have someone who knows something about real estate with me.​

Send me your info and budget and everything you’re looking for so I can forward it to her.

He sent another text with his email. It was his company one and it made me realize that Dalton was somebody important. He occasionally spoke about the company his father developed with his uncle, but I never understood what it was and what he would eventually become regarding it. I knew it was a holdings company, but who actually knows what that means or what the people who work there do. Especially when you get to the executive level of a company. It finally dawned on me that Dalton oversaw a company seeing his name with the company’s website as his email.

Don’t judge me for my budget now that you own a company.
​

I would never.

He sent an emoji with his text and l knew he was teasing me.

Do you want me to pick you up tomorrow around 10?

Sure.​

See you then. Have a good night, Christian.

I spent more time the next morning getting ready than I would like to let on. I changed my outfit three times because something in my brain compelled me to look the best I could for Dalton. Not that it even mattered. My hair wasn’t cooperating and when my phone kept blowing up with texts from him about being double parked, I grabbed a black hat and put it on backwards before running out of the apartment. I continued my pace through the lobby when the elevator doors opened and the doorman who had known me my entire laugh, laughed while he opened the door when he saw how frazzled I was. I didn’t like how after all this time, despite everything that went on with Nicolas, that Dalton had this effect on me. I scanned the busy street for him while trying to play it cool, but hearing my name on his voice startled me. I shifted my direction to his voice and eventually found him sitting in an expensive SUV with sunglasses on. I made me way over to him with the blaring horns at him being in a normal lane.

“Sorry I’m late!” I breathily said, slamming the door. “Sorry about that too.”

“It’s okay,” he gave me a smile before merging into traffic.

“You got rid of your Range Rover?”

He nodded while keeping his eyes on the road.

“They use these as military vehicles in some countries,” I mindlessly said, looking around the cabin. “What possessed you to get one of these while living in Manhattan?”

“I always wanted one.”

“It’s a box on wheels.”

“I know,” he was giddy with his response. “I love it.”

“The gas has to be a car payment for normal people.”

“Good thing I own a company.”

I glared at him from the passenger seat. He just kept smiling and started chuckling to himself. I wouldn’t admit it to him, but I felt at ease with him in the car. I also felt awkward, but I was glad I decided to take him up on his offer. I was glad to be close enough to smell whatever cologne and body wash he was using these days. I was glad to be close enough to admire his jawline like I used to and want to caress the stubble on his cheeks.

“You wear hats now?”

“My hair wasn’t doing what I wanted it to do,” I adjusted the cap.

“I like it.”

His words made my stomach do a flip. I hated how quickly I fell for him again. How much I already wanted him despite saying I needed time. I knew in my head I did need time and that it would be appropriate and respectful to have time between ending one relationship and getting into another, but I felt differently. It felt like it did before anything happened. It felt like everything was still there. All our feelings were still there. All the good conversations and moments were still there. Except they weren’t. It was new. Too much had happened to be totally blind, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to dive head first into it with him.

“Thank you for doing this,” I chimed in, breaking the silence. “I needed a push to go looking.”

“I figured.”

“How?”

He briefly turned to look at me for a split second, “I know you, Christian.”

“You knew me.”

“I still know you to some extent.”

I didn’t respond.

“We got to know each other pretty deep.”

“It wasn’t even two years.”

“Felt longer.”

I sighed to myself because he was right. It did feel longer. It felt just as if I was with Nicolas. I felt like I knew Dalton just as deeply as I did Nicolas despite it being a fraction of the time. Despite being much younger and borderline oblivious to too much.

“Do you still spend a lot of time living in your head?”

“What?” I responded, still staring out the window thinking about everything.

He chuckled, “That answers that.”

“Sorry,” my cheeks lightly flushed. “I just have a lot on my mind still.”

He just nodded.

I don’t know how he managed to coordinate it, but we saw at least a dozen apartments. From the east side near my office, to the west side near his, and even down to the financial district. Claire, his real estate agent, was beyond nice. She looked older than us and was beautifully dressed. She screamed high end and outside my budget, but she was genuinely happy to help a friend of Dalton’s. She had more places to look at in Brooklyn and spoke about them having more space if I wanted to compromise my commute time, but she understood I wanted to be able to walk to work, even if it meant living in a 700-square foot studio. Which is exactly what I took. There was a one bedroom space that technically was a studio and only a ten-minute walk from my job. It was recently redone and had old charm like a brick wall. I could tell Dalton was judging me for the space, but I was proud I was able to afford rent in the east village. On my own, I’d like to point out.

She had paperwork with her just in case and we went through it together. She explained the whole situation of getting an apartment and handed me her card and joked to answer her calls when they come in so we can move swiftly on the place. She even gave me a hug before leaving. I was glad I took him up on his offer because she did make it painless. Even enjoyable. And I’d even go to the length of saying that spending a few hours with Dalton, with someone else around, was a nice way to bridge whatever our relationship was.

We were walking west towards the park, crossing Park Avenue, just talking and laughing. The anxiety and awkwardness surrounding him was melting. I felt myself becoming comfortable around him again. I felt at ease with myself, too, but then I saw the one person in the entire city that I didn’t want to see. I prayed he didn’t spot me in the herd of people in the crosswalk. I needed him to not see me, but he did. We made eye contact when I was in the middle of a laugh with Dalton’s hand on my lower back and dread replaced everything else. And as if Satan himself was pulling the strings of my life, we all landed in the medium until the crosswalk changed colors.

Dalton continued rambling about the story we were just laughing about, oblivious to the chill that coursed through my spine. I couldn’t stop looking at him. He just stood there, maybe a foot away, staring. I wanted to just sprint through traffic and I even went to take a step, but Dalton grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled me back.

“Do you not see the sign. Or all the cars?”

“Dalton…” I whispered.

“What is wrong with you?” he brought his hand to my forehead. “You look like you seen a ghost.”

“Dalton,” I whispered harder. “Nicolas is here.”

“What?” he said in a laugh, turning around. “Oh.”

And then he started laughing harder. I wanted to die. Literally. I wanted to die. Of all the situations, I thought of since it all occurred, this wasn’t one of them, but it was probably the worst that could have happened. With millions of people and hundreds of streets, the probability of this happening had to be incredibly low. But for whatever reason, fate decided to let me win this one.
Dalton blew a raspberry through his lips, “I’m Dalton.”

I smacked his side with the back of my hand.

“What?” he whispered. “He’s staring. He clearly sees us.”

“I know who you are.”

“Right,” he pursed his lips.

The light changed and the herd we were part of began walking.

“Nicolas, I-“

“Goodbye, Christian.”

And with that, he was gone. Dalton grabbed me under my arm and pulled me towards the park. He kind of helped me walk because I was so out of it. I figured I’d see him eventually, maybe. We had the places we liked to go to for bagels and coffee. We had a similar schedule, too. How could we not after four years? But I didn’t imagine it would be this soon or like this. I started to imagine the worst. That he thought I was happy to be rid of him. That I was already sleeping with Dalton. That the next day, I welcomed Dalton into my life like mothing happened. I wanted to run after him and explain it. To tell him the truth about what’s been going on with me. The pain I felt. The heartache from our breakup. Being unsure about all of it. And I was going to, but it was like he was in my head.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Leave him be, Christian.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” I broke my arm from his grip. “You don’t even know what I’m thinking.”

“You probably feel awful.”

“How could I not?”

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t,” he closed the space between us. “I am saying to leave him alone. I am saying you running after him isn’t going to make him feel better. You have to let him hate you.”

“How could you possibly know what’s best for me?”

“Because I had to let you hate me.”

His words were raw. There was no charm behind them. No Dalton charisma. No sarcasm. Nothing. Just the truth.

“There were so many times I wanted to call you or text you. Or write to you. I thought about getting on a plane to see you, but I knew it would only make it worse. I knew I needed to let you hate me. I wouldn’t blame you if you still hate me,” he laughed once. “Let him hate you, Christian. If you care about him, let him hate you.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Unless you want him back. Unless you want to make it work with him. If that’s the case, go. Go right now and make him know how sorry you are and that you’ll do whatever it is he needs you to do. Just so you could have another minute with him.”

“I don’t want him, Dalton!” I shouted. “I feel horrible for it!” I paused. “I feel horrible for it.”

I shook my head in defeat and just gave him a passive look.

“I don’t want to be with him. I feel awful, but I don’t. I want him to be happy and I want to take away any pain I caused him, but I don’t want to be with him. I hate it, but I want to be with you. I hate you for it. I hate that you came back into my life and caused so much shit. I hate that I thought I was happy and in a relationship I wanted to be in for the rest of my life and then you came along and ruined it. I hate you for it, Dalton. And I hate me for it. I hate the person I became. I hate this situation. I hate that I want to spend time with you because I feel like I need to not for an approved amount of time out of respect to him. But that’s clearly gone because he just saw us. And I hate that I don’t think I care anymore.”

“What are you saying?”

“I hate how stupid I feel for this, but I want to be with you. I know I shouldn’t. I know this is probably the illogical thing to do, but we’re standing in the middle of a sidewalk and all I want to do is be with you. I’ve been fighting the urge, but what was the point in ruining my relationship if I’m not going to be with you.

“You destroyed me, Dalton. It was the first real heartbreak I had and you left me with nothing for years!” I shouted. “You left me with my own mind creating bullshit that just wasn’t even true! You made me feel like it was something I did. That something was wrong with me. And It racked my mind endlessly. And that boy came into my life and put the pieces back together!”

I pointed dramatically behind me.

“It scares me, to be with you. You scare me. You make me nervous. I’m afraid of getting hurt again, Dalton, but I still want you. And maybe I’m like a battered dog going back to its owner. Maybe I’m-“

He kissed me. In the middle of the sidewalk with people mad at us for being in their way, he kissed me. His hands wrapped around my arms, holding me in place, while his lips pressed against mine. It all began to melt away. My brain stopped being so loud. The blood in my ears wasn’t pounding as hard. And it no longer felt like I was on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry, okay. I am so sorry, Christian,” I looked up at him expecting to see typical Dalton, but his eyes had tears in them. “I don’t know how to express how I feel about what I did, but I know I don’t want it to go away because it reminds me that I hurt you. It reminds me that I wasn’t a big enough person to take care of you the way you needed. And it reminds me to do better. Because I want to do better. I want to be better for you, Christian. You deserve to be taken care of. You deserve safety. You deserve someone to have your best interest at heart and it wasn’t me at that time. But I can be that person now. I am that person now. I will take whatever you throw at me,” he gave me a small smile, his hands still holding my arms. “But let me in. Let me back in, Christian.”

“Take him back!” a random bystander on a bike screamed.

“Give him another chance!” another chimed in.

In the midst of our confessional, I hadn’t noticed the crowd of people around us. I assumed it was regular Manhattan traffic, but there was a group of people cautiously lingering around us.

“It seems like we’ve gotten some attention,” he smiled, taking one hand from my upper arm and lightly rubbing the pad of his thumb under my eyes.

My eyes shook while I stared at him. I hadn’t seen the vulnerability Dalton possessed in the time I’d known him. He opened about his parents, but given the new information about his mishandling of grief, how open could he have been. This was a new version of him. This was uncharted territory. Dangerous seas with depths of unknown. But it didn’t scare me. It didn’t make me want to run. It made me smile. An infectious smile that made him hug me, violently and tightly. And I exhaled. I melted into him. I rested my head against his shoulder just like I did and felt his strength engulf me. The smile stayed on my face while whoever was invested in our love story clapped.

I loved this city.

 

[bs29697]

I liked this chapter Reed.

Nicolas must have been as shocked to see Christian on the sidewalk as Christian was seeing him there. Dalton is probably right in telling Christian to allow Nicolas time to hate (Its a useless emotion. Hating someone doesn't change a thing for anyone. It only brings more grief and heartache for everyone) him for ruining their relationship.

Dalton seems to be wiser and doesn't want to make the same mistakes that he made the first time he was with Christian I can only hope he continues to be this way.

Again Reed I loved this chapter and hope there will be another chapter soon.

Brian

 

[highflyer99]

Hi Reed
Thank you so much for this latest chapter. Once again, I was drawn right in to Christian's emotional journey. Slowly starting to come out of his funk, trying to cope at work, tentatively venturing out with Dalton, and then seeing Nicolas at the worst possible moment. But, that chance encounter resulted in a cathartic outburst, a venting of frustrations and emotions, for both Christian and Dalton, that surely will open the way for a healthy loving relationship. I loved the closing sentence of the chapter: so happy, so positive.

I'm hoping there'll be another instalment soon!

Cheers, HF

 

[VAhotboy]

Hi, Reed,

For those of us who have been through a painful breakup, all this really resonates, because of the clash of so many emotions. To see a story unfold of the rebuilding of a broken relationship - given the inadequacies and often immaturities we often bring to a relationship - is truly a joy to follow. Keep going, PLEASE!

Best to you,

JD

 

[Kyanimal]

Reed!

Sweet!!

THANK YOU!!!
Chaz

 

[reed422]

I accidentally deleted the next chapter (what was supposed to be this one) yesterday along with the one to follow and then a future one, but I'm much happier with how this current update came. It might take me some time to get an update after this, so I'm sorry, but I hope you enjoy this one. I'm actually loving to write this right now and loving how Dalton and Christian changed and how their relationship changed/will change. So, hopefully y'all are liking this as much as I am right now Also, I wrote this while listening to Happier by Olivia Rodrigo if any of y'all want to listen while reading to get into the headspace I was in to write this. If not, no worries.

-20-​

I moved into my apartment a few weeks later. Claire was as good as Dalton assured, making the entire process as painless as possible. It was almost as if I didn’t have it on my mind in those weeks leading up to my move in, leaving time to just enjoy myself with Dalton. After that afternoon near Central Park, we decided to give it an official go again. To date one another again. To go on actual dates to restaurants. To get gelato because ice cream was beneath Dalton’s palate these days. To take walks during our lunch, when it allowed. Central Park became our place. It was between where we worked and lived and it was also just a beautiful scene to get to know a familiar stranger. And it was easier than I thought it would be, to re-get to know Dalton. Once I started to let down my guard, that is.

We texted each other non-stop like kids in high school and I found myself smiling more than I had been. I was literally that giddy kid I wanted to be in school when I was younger. Except I was twenty five and Dalton was thirty. But it didn’t matter because we were falling back in love. Or at least I was, but I wouldn’t tell him that. Not yet. I had to make sure it was real, make sure he wasn’t going to decide to leave again when something came up. There was no way I could handle it a second time—I barely made it through the first time. And the fear that I attempted to control would occasionally make itself known, but I was really trying to let whatever it was between us to happen naturally. Without getting in the way.

It was Friday and Dalton had been pressing me to spend the weekend at his place. He’d been pressing me for a while now to spend a night with him, but I wasn’t caving in to him just yet. I’d be lying if I said a part of me didn’t enjoy making him work for me. To have him not obtain what he wanted. To hold a little bit of power in whatever it is we were at this point. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed seeing him restrain himself when we were sharing an intimate moment. To be engulfed in him, feel his desire, feed it, but only to pull away, leaving him wanting more. I wanted more. I couldn’t resist him with his olive skin and dark features. His dark eyes that kept me questioning what was going through his mind until they’d light up with passion. They were almost black, adding to his intimidating demeanor and ease to control a room, but when it was just us and he’d let me in, they’d be warm and welcoming and beautiful. And I’d stare into them, mindlessly, just watching his lashes flutter every time he blinked.

Dalton was beautiful. He wasn’t the hot upperclassmen I fell for when I was young and naïve. When I was new to it all. He was suave now. His facial hair was kept short and had a meticulous line where it ended on his cheek. It was always trimmed and hugged his jaw, showing the sharp lines of it. And his eyebrows matched. Perfectly tweezed or threaded or whatever he did to them, but full and that almost black color like the rest of his hair. Which, he’d grown out. Not long, but it was no longer the buzzcut he rocked in college. But it all complemented him and when he’d smile, his teeth would look like fresh snow against his complexion.

My desire for him proved too much and I finally caved. I told him I’d spend this weekend at his apartment. The whole weekend. And he was ecstatic. He texted me every possible thing we could do, reassuring me after each idea that I could decide and he’d be happy with whatever I did. But I didn’t want elaborate plans. I didn’t want fancy dinners or walks through the park. Maybe that last part wasn’t completely true because I loved being outside, but I wanted a lazy weekend with him. Just the two of us enjoying each other. And this time when he’d get worked up, clearly dying to push his hand under my shirt, I’d let him. I’d lean into it this time.

I practically ran home when I got out of work. I’d gotten into the habit of walking to and from work because it was only a few blocks to save money and to get the exercise, but I never ran. I wasn’t a psychopath, but today I may have sprinted through crosswalks and dodged people on the sidewalk leisurely walking. I climbed the stairs to my third floor apartment two at a time, skipped my usual check of the mailbox, and headed straight into the shower. I’d usually unwind getting home from work before doing anything, but I wanted to get to Dalton’s as quickly as I could. I knew I was going to have him tonight. I didn’t allude to it at all with the texting we’d done. I wanted to surprise him, even have control over it. Despite knowing Dalton would most likely rip that control from me, but the idea of that in itself was enough to light that flame of excitement in my stomach.

I did everything I needed to and packed a bag with just the essentials. I did a once over in the mirror before grabbing a black hat and putting it on backwards before heading out the door. I hailed a cab because there was no way I was taking the walk across the entire island by myself and almost regretted it when I realized I was in Friday evening traffic. I contemplated getting out and just taking the subway, but didn’t want to be sweaty. I wanted the first time with Dalton to be clean and nice. Sweaty and primal could be tomorrow.

A smirk found its way onto my face thinking about all of this. I didn’t know this side of myself existed. Dalton and I were young and oblivious to a lot when we first were together. And then when Nicolas came into my life, he was an art kid. We were gentle together. We’d go to museums and quaint cafes and open mic nights. We were passionate with each other, sure, but I never thought about fucking him when I was sweaty and gross. Or when he was that way. But there was something about Dalton where being intimate like that…was appealing. It was something I wanted. Something I wasn’t ashamed of wanting. And when I eventually pulled up in front of his building, I had to readjust myself in my underwear before getting out of the cab.

The black jeans did their best to offer me privacy when I passed the doorman, but the tight fabric didn’t help ease the situation in my pants. Every step rubbing me the wrong way. Or the right way, if I wasn’t in public. And when a guy behind the desk cleared his throat at me, dread replaced everything else, except the blood still going to that part of my body.

“Can I help you?” he asked with almost an attitude.

“I’m here to see a friend,” I squirmed in place, pulling the crotch down as much as I could, grateful the tall wooden desk hid me from him.

“And what may that friend’s name be?”

“Dalton Garcia,” I almost gasped when my underwear slid across my member. “He’s in one of the top floor apartments.”

“Mmm,” he replied, taking a second to glance at me.

I smiled at him, despite the situation still growing in my pants. I felt sixteen again, not being able to control myself.

“And you are?”

“Christian Costello.”

“Oh,” his demeanor completely changed, “Mr. Costello. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Yes, Mr. Garcia is expecting you. Go on up.”

“I don’t have to sign in?”

He shook his head, “Mr. Garcia added you as one of his approved visitors.”

“Oh, well, thank you,” I smiled again, leaving my hand over my crotch.

“Have a nice day,” his tone completely different than when we started.

I got to the elevators as quickly as I could, standing in positions I normally wouldn’t to hide the bulge in my jeans. The doors opened before me and of course there was an attendant in it.

“What floor?”

I stepped behind him, crossing my right leg over the left, making everything move, again, but at least it offered me some privacy, “Twelve. Thank you.”

He nodded and pressed the button. The doors lingered for a moment before closing and I exhaled. The momentary silence felt longer before a ding entered the space again.

“Have a nice day,”

“Yeah,” I walked by him, “you, too.”

Luckily, his hallway was empty as I made my way in front of his door. I knocked gently, despite wanting to pound on it or better, let myself in. I squirmed in place while waiting for him to open the door, amazed I was still hard. I found myself wanting to touch myself in the moments I was alone, shocked I was this daring. But it was because I wasn’t doing anything with anyone aside from intense make out sessions with Dalton and the occasional, accidental hand brushing from him. I had myself to entertain myself, but it wasn’t the same. It did its job, but it wasn’t the same as fantasizing about the beautiful beast you had to yourself and all the things you wanted to do to him and have him do to you. And when he finally opened the door, I threw myself at him.

He was still in his work clothes, sans shoes. His button down was partially opened and his belt was undone and hung to either side of his fly. The phone call he was on instantly got ended and his phone flew to the couch. A viscous smile appeared on his face. I smirked in response, dropping my bag while he stumbled to the close the door When the latch caught, I pressed myself into him. My hands grabbed onto his waist while I buried my face into his neck, taking a moment to inhale his scent before biting the tender skin. I placed kiss after kiss as I lowered to his collar bone, where I pushed the button down out of the way and sucked on the skin covering his defined chest.

“Christian,” he groaned, “I’m not in the mood to have you tease me again.”

“I’m not teasing you this time,” I stopped kissing him.

“And you’re not just saying that,” I felt his dick grow against me through his thin pants. “You’re not going to get me worked up, have to beg you to touch you, to only tell me you want to take some more time?”

“No.”

“And you’re sure,” I swear his dick twitched.

“I’m sure.”

With speed I didn’t know a human could manage, he had his hands under my knees and my head was above his. I adjusted in his grip, wrapping my thighs around him, while we started to kiss each other. I moaned into him while our lips acquainted themselves, proving to be sloppy in no time. He exhaled his contentment against me while he led us to his bedroom. I kept moaning against him, wanting to taste as much as him as I could and when his teeth finally parted, my tongue darted into his mouth. He groaned something low and sexy while I worked my tongue against his, making me whimper in his arms. I didn’t care, though. I let my body react how it wanted to him.

But then everything came to a screeching halt and panic replaced everything else as I glided through the air. I landed on his bed, my heart racing, biting my bottom lip as he struggled to get out of his shirt. I went to do the same, but he shook his head.

“No, I want to undress you.”

The dominance in his voice made my hand slip beneath my jeans. That and seeing his body for the first time. He was bigger than he was—not lean anymore. His torso wasn’t as defined as it once was and he let his body hair cover some of it. His pecs were just as round as I remembered and his nipples made my mouth salivate. He had a V leading to his pants, but it was thicker. He looked strong. And when he undid his pants, the bulge his underwear was struggling to maintain was massive. That stayed the same, luckily. I was thrusting into my hand watching him undress. A small smile was on his face as he pulled his dress slacks off and tossed them at me. In the time it took to get them off me, he had his trunks down and his dick stood out, pointing at me.

“I want this so badly, Christian.”

And he was on me in no time. His dick pressed against my legs as his lips found mine again. He breathed into me, humping me through my clothes, pressing his weight against me. I craned my neck back, breaking from the kiss, but his lips found my neck, kissing and biting at my sensitive skin. I gasped while he did it, pushing my hips up against him, wanting to feel him on me. When his hands finally found the button to my jeans, a small laugh escaped my lips and mixed with the moan that also escaped. His hand felt large against my bulge as he cupped it. And it felt strong when he squeezed it. A louder moan, also higher than the other ones, passed my lips, and I felt the smile play across his face.

He broke away from me, making me want to groan in protest, but his hands grabbed the sides of my jeans and pulled them down with such a force, I slide down the bed. I gasped at his strength, wanting him more. He eyed me like this, his dick bouncing with each beat of his heart. He had precum on the head and it was dripping towards the floor, before he caught it in his hands, between his fingers, and knelt between my legs. I watched him as he brought his hand to my mouth and I gladly opened it for him. The two fingers with his precum passed my lips and his knuckled rested against my top lip while I licked them clean. He chuckled to himself while the right side of his mouth went up in a smirk.

“Good boy.”

I wasn’t into name play, but something about him saying it made me not mind.

He pulled his fingers from my mouth and I involuntarily licked my lips. He lightly said fuck under his breath while he grabbed my underwear. He had it off me in no time and then grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head. I was finally naked before him, dick free and twitching for him. He knelt between my legs again, grabbing me under my arms, and pulled me up the bed. He kissed me deeply before he leaned over me, leaving his dick near my face. I struggled to get my mouth near his head, but I managed, and took it in me, licking his leaking head. He tasted so good. Better than anything I’d had. And his noises were only making me want him deeper in my mouth while he looked for whatever he did.

“Ah, fuck,” he complained, taking his dick out of my mouth and hovering over me. “I never got condoms.”

“I’m on PrEP and also haven’t been with anyone since Nicolas,” I practically panted.

“I get tested monthly just out of my own peace of mind, despite not being with anyone.”

“That’s good enough for me if it you,” I wanted to beg.

“You’re sure? We can get tested over the weekend. Together.”

“Cute,” I smiled, fighting a laugh.

“Shut up.”

He grabbed me under my waist, pulling me over him while he laid on the bed. He adjusted himself so his head was barely against a pillow with me straddling him. His hand that didn’t hold the bottle of lube he retrieved found my dick and he lightly stroked me. I threw me head back at his touch, which wasn’t anything special, but still felt amazing.

“I want you to ride me.”

“Yeah?” I barely was able to say.

“I want to watch you while I fuck you.”

“Ugh, Dalton,” I moaned while he kept touching me.

“I want to watch you get into it. I want to watch you lose control. I want to watch you bob while I bury myself into you.”

“Ugh,” I moaned again, “I want that.”

“Do you?”

“Mhmmm.”

“Do you want me to do that to you?”

I nodded violently.

“Say it.”

“What?” I breathily asked.

“Say it,” he firmly reassured.

“I want you to fuck me like that, Dalton,” I managed between moans. “I want to ride your cock and feel you inside me. I want you to drive me crazy with your dick. I want to cum all over your chest.”

He let the breath he was holding pass his lips, “Ooo, Christian.”

His hand came off my dick and I felt it brush against my back side. I heard the cap open and watched his face as he rubbed the lube against himself. And then I felt cold, slipper fingers teasing my hole. They went in circles around me before he felt daring enough to press one against me. I moaned at it at first and then sharply inhaled when he pushed himself in. I shut my eyes and bit my lip while I got used to him. He left himself in me before starting to wiggle it around. And he did the same with a second finger, before managing a third, which made me gasp and press my hands against his chest.

“Too much?”

“It’ll be okay,” I groaned through gritted teeth, taking a deep breathe “You have big fingers.”

“They match other things.”

I laughed, making myself fall deeper onto his hand. He moaned at it, while I gasped.

“Bastard,” I said, my hands supporting myself against him with my head dropped down.

“I’m going to have fun with this.”

He fucked me with his hand for a while, getting moans and pants out of me while he did it. I begged him to just fuck me already, but he ignored me. He was enjoying himself. I was enjoying him. And when he did take his fingers out of me, I was about to whine when his head replaced them and he thrust into me.

“Fuck!” I shouted, groaning.

“Sorry,” he said, throwing his head back. His hands found my hips, “I just couldn’t resist.”

“Mmmm!” I groaned again, trying to adjust to him. My eyes were sealed shut and I was wincing at his eyes.

“I’m sorry, love,” his hands rubbed my legs. “I don’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know,” I repeatedly nodded. “I know.”

I exhaled. I felt myself start to loosen. My eyes finally opened and I took a deep breathe, settling into him. His dick found itself deeper into me, making me moan. He thrusted his hips into me, making me lift off the bed. I gasped in pleasurable disbelief, throwing my head back a little.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm,” I moaned.

He did it again, a little harder this time, and I was grateful he liked to push the boundaries. Nicolas was gentle, in every aspect of life. And I appreciated it. But a part of me wanted someone to take control. I had an appetite for someone to use me. An appetite finally getting satisfied by Dalton. And I know he wasn’t just using me for his pleasure, because my dick was as hard as it could be. It felt like it was going to explode with all the blood flowing to it. I looked down at it as he found a rhythm fucking me and I had veins I didn’t know I had. They fought against my skin and I moaned while admiring myself.

“Checking yourself out?” he panted. “I don’t blame you. You’re so beautiful, Christian.”

I felt myself blush, but he fucked me harder, making me moan and melt into him instead. My hands slayed on his chest, gripping into the plump muscle he had to stabilize myself. His hands stayed on the side of my hips, his fingers reaching the side of my ass where they pulled me apart to get his dick deeper. And that’s when he hit that spot we all feel when they get it just right. And I shouted, melting more into the moment. I bit my bottom lip and started to ride him. I knew he had a smirk or a full smile on his face this time without opening my eyes. I just knew it. I could feel his pleasure in this moment. I could feel him quicken his pace and heard him breathe harder.

I was leaking like a faucet at this point, neither of us paying any attention to my dick. But it didn’t need any. It grew harder and harder, making me moan and pant and whine at the sensation in my dick, but also my ass. And then that feeling in my stomach started. That grew out of its location and down towards my cock. He was hitting my prostate with every thrust. I was grinding his dick against it when he wasn’t pushing into me.

“Fuck, Christian,” he groaned.

I felt him bury himself as deep as he could and then a noise that I could only compare to a growl passed through his lips.

“Please don’t stop,” I squeaked, the feeling still getting closer to my dick. “I’m almost there.”

He fought against his orgasm and the urge to leave himself buried in me, and picked up fucking me where he left off before he released himself into me. I could feel him struggling to cum and fuck me at the same time, but I didn’t need much more. The idea of him leaving his seed in me and feeling him pulse and throb against me was enough to send me over the edge. My dick twitched harder than it ever did, and without any attention, it show the biggest, hardest rope of cum out of my head, hurting a bit before the pleasure replaced the pain. It cleared Dalton’s head and the both of us said “oh shit” in unison. He tried his best to keep fucking me, to get the cum out of me. And he did. I shot stream after stream of cum, getting everywhere while I bounced against him. A lot landed on his face and his body while I moaned in ecstasy and tried to watch. Some inevitably got on the sheets around us, but I loved coating him in my cum. He stopped thrusting when his dick started to deflate but still having him in me let me finish my own orgasm strong. With the last of it dripping onto his stomach, I sighed in relief. He chucked to himself.

“Thank you,” I weakly said with just as weak of a smile.

“No, Christian, thank you.”

He lifted me just enough to get himself out of me completely. It was just as weird a sensation as it was the first time someone removed their now soft dick and because I’m still immature, I giggled.

“That was more than I could have asked for,” he smiled at me, his hands rubbing my legs.

“I have never cum this much in my life.”

“It was the hottest thing I could have wanted,” he reassured me. “I love that I fucked an orgasm out of you.”

I felt myself blush.

His arms made their way to my back. He lightly traced it.

“You really are so beautiful, amor.”

I knew better to fight him on this, so I just smiled at him.

“I could spend every day pleasing you like that.”

“Stop it,” I’m sure my face was bright red.

“I also wouldn’t mind getting off in your ass every day,” his right hand smacked the side of my butt.

“And there’s the Dalton we know and love,” I laughed, fighting him to get off him. “I desperately need a shower, if you catch my drift.”

“Of course,” he warmly said. “You do you. I need to clean up some before I join you.”

Before I was able to walk away, he caught my arm.

“I love you, Christian.”

A warmth filled my entire body, “I know.”

I wanted to say it back, but I just wasn’t ready, but I think I was in love with him, too.

 

[highflyer99]

I loved this chapter, Reed. Whew! What a hot scene between the two lovers. Of course Christian loves Dalton; that's why he abandoned Nicolas, after all. He just needs to be able to say it.

I was pleased you mentioned future chapters. I'll be eagerly awaiting the next one, whenever it arrives. Thank you so much for continuing the story.

Cheers, HF

 

[bs29697]

Loved this chapter Reed. Damn what a HOT sex scene between Christian and Dalton. Christian loves Dalton but he just can't seem to bring himself to say the words yet.

Thanks for continuing the story for us new readers.


Brian

 

[reed422]

-21-​

I woke up to the familiar smell of breakfast that made me launch out of bed. Dazed, I dug a pair of shorts out of my bag and made my way to the bathroom, before following the sweet smell of pancakes to the kitchen. Dalton was in front of the stove, in a pair of tight, black trunks and a white tee. He had classical music going in the background and a fresh cup of coffee waiting under an expensive-looking machine, built into the wall of cabinetry. In the daylight, I began to admire his apartment. It was modern with what looked like original wood flooring. The walls were white and flat, contrasted by the black windows and black, shiny cabinetry in the kitchen. His appliances were hidden, minus the range, where he was cooking up a storm.

I cleared my throat loud enough for him to hear over everything going on. He spun around, spatula in hand, and gave me a kind smile.

“That’s for you,” he pointed at the cup, “if you want it.”

“I would,” I took it in my hands and it was just hot enough. “Thank you.”

“I don’t know if you’re a breakfast person, but Saturday’s my cheat day, so I just started cooking like I normally would.”

“You cook?”

“Love to,” he said with his back to me. “My mama would let me help her when I was growing up. My dad was a good cook, too.”

I smiled into my cup, ”This is delicious, by the way.”

“Good!” he chimed. “That thing has so many options that I don’t even know how to use.”

The dull hum of the flames stopped and Dalton carried a plate of pancakes and another of bacon to the small, glass table in the corner of the kitchen.

“We can eat here,” he walked to me to give me a small peck on the cheek. “The light in the morning is the best over there.”

I took a seat across from the windows to enjoy the view. It’s rare to have this close of a view from inside a building of Central Park. You had to be crazy wealthy or in some kind of office setting. I truthfully could have just had the coffee and taken in the scenery that was beginning to change. He returned with another plate of fresh fruit, setting it down in the middle, and his laptop, which he placed in front of him before he settled.

“Do you mind?”

I shook my head.

“You distracted me from the work I was doing last night, so I need to catch up this morning.”

My cheeks flushed, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he smiled while looking at his screen. “I’ll gladly miss work for that.”

His caviler demeanor hadn’t changed and it still made my cheeks go the deepest red they could.

“Now eat.”

I helped myself to everything. I normally am a big breakfast person, but hated waking up early to cook it. I wasn’t much of a cook anyway. I knew the Italian staples my mother forced me to know, but that was about it. And none of it was breakfast, which is simple, but you’d be surprised how bad someone could be in the kitchen. So not having to cook and the fact that it was delicious was enough to send me into bliss.

“And done,” he closed his laptop.

“That was fast,” I said, taking a break from shoveling pancakes into my mouth. “These are phenomenal, Dalton.”

“Just wait until I make you dinner then,” he shot back, loading up his plate.

“Looking forward to it.”

“Oh yeah?” his smile was massive. “I can cook for you tonight. We can have a date night in.”

“Can’t,” I managed to get out through the grapes I had in my mouth. “My nephew’s birthday party is this afternoon.”

His smile grew at me.

“What?” I rubbed my face. “is there food or syrup I’m missing?”

“Can I come with you?”

“You’d want to go to a 2-year-old’s birthday party?”

“Not so much that is it that I want to go (italics) with you.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?”

His demeanor changed.

“Not that I don’t want to spend the day with you,” I readjusted. “It’s just that my family’s going to be there and you aren’t exactly their favorite person.”

“True,” he sat up in his chair, “but we have to rip that band-aid off eventually.”

“And you don’t think it’s too soon?”

“We’ve taken things slow, right?” he relaxed in his seat. “It was weeks before you finally let me fuck you.”

“Dalton!”

“Not that I’m complaining,” his smile was back. “It was worth the wait,” he bit into a piece of bacon. “Any chance for round two before we go?”

“Absolutely not,” I was laughing, partly out of being uncomfortable.

“We’ll see about that.”

I hoped he couldn’t see I was getting excited at the idea through the glass table.

I discretely moved my plate to hide the view of my crotch, “I mean, you’re not wrong about having to rip the band-aid off.”

“I try not to be.”

“Can’t you go back to being on your best behavior again?” I shot back. “I liked that Dalton better.”

He smacked his lips, “Nope. You get my old charming self,” he started to consolidate the plates on the table. “Dalton 2.0: The best of both worlds,” he brought his hand out and across the table in front of him. “It’s got a nice ring to it.”

I sighed, “If I let you come, you have to be on your best behavior. You’re already on thin ice with everyone. I’m on thin ice, too.”

“Of course, Christian. I’ll charm the pants off your entire family.”

“I mean, I hope so, for both our sakes.”

He just laughed.


I luckily packed a button-down that my mom wouldn’t chastise me for wearing. Not that it would matter because Henry’s two and won’t even remember the entire party, but I’m sure my mother would be her usual self. Dalton offered me some of his clothes, but all I could do was laugh at his gesture. Aside from the obvious difference in build, he was inches taller than me. The idea of sitting by a fire in one of his sweatshirts that I’d drown in was tantalizing, though.

Dalton looked as suave as ever: a black pair of jeans with a completely black belt, followed by a black turtleneck that he oddly pulled off. And a watch that looked like it was the price of a loft in lower Manhattan. But it was fitting because my brother-in-law’s family was old money. Like lawyer dynasty. Michael’s dad had been the District Attorney of Manhattan since he and Leah first hooked up. His dad was some big-shot private attorney and I think even his dad was a judge or something. They were affluent and educated, but not pretentious.

“Whose house is this?” he asked in awe while he handed the valet his key.

“My brother-in-law’s parents’.”

“What do they do?”

“His dad’s a DA.”

“Which one?”

“Manhattan,” I smiled at a server as we passed by, grabbing two glasses of champagne.

“Damn,” he said loudly. “That is quite a connection.”

“I have a feeling you’re going to be the star of the show,” I handed him a glass.

“Me?” he scoffed.

“We may have done some research on you recently,” I took a large sip.

“We?” he grilled me.

“My sister. And my mom. And I think my dad reads Business Insider. Michael, my brother-in-law, is a little obsessed with you.”

I looked up at him, expecting his usual grinning self, probably loving all of this, but it wasn’t that. It was more shock and what looked like to be nervousness.

“Apparently, you’re a big player in the city now. Worth like two billion or something.”

He sighed, “I hate the internet.”

“Did—did I do something wrong?” we stopped walking before getting to the backyard. “I didn’t mean to overstep, Dalton. It’s just available with a quick search online. I know I didn’t need to and it’s probably an invasion of your privacy, but I didn’t intend for that. It was jus-“

He lightly kissed me. He lingered for a minute before pressing his forehead against mine, where he stayed, “It’s not you.”

He kissed me one more time.

“I didn’t expect this to happen when I took over,” he took a step back and finished his glass. “It was a conversation I wanted to have with you over dinner one night because it’s a lot. It’s my life and it can be a lot,” he sighed again. “Money makes people weird.”

“I’m not just saying this,” I closed the space between us, “but I don’t care about it.”

He gave me a weak smile, “I know.”
“Michael isn’t interested in you because of that either,” I reassured. “He said something about some clean energy project or something. I don’t really know, Dalton. I kind of zone out when he and my dad talk about business things.”

He laughed, genuinely, “I didn’t think I’d be someone who cared about business, but here we are.”

He leaned into me again, taking the glass from my hand and setting them both down on a table nearby.

“I would like to tell you about my life over dinner, Christian, so you don’t have to read about it from some online tabloid.”

“I didn’t read it from a ta-“

“Mhm,” he cut me off with a kiss. “I know exactly the one you read.”

He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the backyard. I knew he had a smile on his face, just like he knew my cheeks were warming with embarrassment. I normally wasn’t one to hold hands or be affectionate in public, but my family and my sister’s new family were nothing but warm and accepting. I still felt a little uncomfortable around my dad being a man with a man as my partner, but it was more in my head than real. He treated Nicolas no differently than he did Michael, but being that Dalton was older and hurt me in the past, I didn’t know what we were walking into. Especially since I didn’t tell anyone he was coming.

My sister was the first to spot us. She abruptly ended whatever conversation she was having with one of her friends and made a bee-line for us. It was like a shark going after its prey, the way she weaved through the crowd, not apologizing for whoever she bumped into. I squeezed his hand as she got closer, my anxiety growing, but Dalton remained stoic. He just stood there, brushing his thumb across my fingers, occasionally smiling at me while we awkwardly waited.

“Christian,” she started, clearly loving this, “you failed to mention you were bringing Dalton.”

I cocked my head and just smiled at her.

“Dalton,” she placed her hands on his shoulders. “It’s good to see you.”

“Thank you for having me,” his charm was already on. “The party looks lovely.”

“Of course,” she fell for it. “And thank you! Your son only turns two once,” she gave him a short laugh. “Mom,” she drew out ‘ah’ sound, “is going to have a conniption.”

“You mean because I didn’t run this by her?” I saw her behind my sister

“Yes,” she faked a laugh, “I can feel her glaring at us.”

“How’d you know that?” he chimed in.

“You’ve yet to properly meet our mother,” my sister responded.

“Maybe you were right, amor,” he turned to me. “About me coming.”

“No, no, NONONO,” my sister interjected. “You are welcome here, always. It’s just that she’s a little bit of a control freak and wasn’t expecting this. She’ll get over it. She’ll be fine.”

“We can go if you’re not comfortable, Dalton.”

I could tell he was anxious. His charm faded and he started to make himself smaller. He was now the one who was gripping my hand and I found myself gently caressing his hand with my thumb.

“No,” he put on a smile, despite it being fake, “It’s fine.”

“I promise it’ll be fine,” my sister said. “I have to go make rounds, though. Really, Dalton, it’s nice to see you and I’m glad you’re here. Really”

She lightly touched his arm before heading behind us. I looked up at him and he was just scanning everyone in the backyard. I did the same and saw a few people smiling at us.

“Why does my mom have you so nervous?”

“I’m not,” he scoffed at me.

“Bullshit.”

He laughed, genuinely, “Okay, maybe a little.”

“She’s harmless. It’s my dad you should be worried about,” I joked, not sure if it would help or not.

“I can do dads. I deal with peoples’ dads every day at work. They’re easy,” his tension eased. “Moms are another story. Especially when you hurt their kid.”

“It was years ago, Dalton.”

“And I’m sure it’s still as fresh as ever for her,” he turned to me. “Not that she doesn’t have a right to feel that way because she does. I’m just maybe regretting diving into this big of a pool.”

“Are you saying I was right?” I teased. “Because if that’s the case, I’d like to record it and have you do it again.”

“Ass,” he dropped his head.

“Come on,” I weaseled my arm through his and brought it against my chest. “I’ll show you around.”


True to Leah’s word, it was fine. I introduced him to my sister’s friends first because they were the shallow end of the pool. Easy, safe. They were happy to meet someone I was seeing, despite potentially knowing about our past. Leah liked to talk, a little too much sometimes, so God only knows what she told them. If she told them anything. She could be an open book if she wanted to, but she was also someone who respected privacy. But she was a wildcard—you never knew what you were going to get. From there, we went to my extended family. Aunts, uncles, cousins. The whole gist. I knew they knew because my mother was an old Italian woman—she liked to gossip. About anything and everything. There was no way she didn’t tell them about my entire love saga. And I don’t blame her because I’d have done the same if I wasn’t the one living it.

Michael’s parents approached us and took the awkwardness out of it when his dad stole Dalton from me. I was dreading the introduction because it was still formal with us given I was their daughter-in-law’s brother, but I think they were just happy they had a beautiful day for their grandson’s birthday. I ended up talking to his mom for like twenty minutes because she’s just such a kind person and she wanted to know everything about my life. And I was glad to do it because it meant more time away from my mother, as awful as that sounds. But eventually, she left me and I felt the glaze of an old Italian lady I can’t describe unless you have one as your mom.

I grabbed two glasses of wine from one of the many people walking around the backyard and made my way to her. She was sitting at a table in the shade, almost like she was expecting me to find her all this time.

“Mom,” I slid the glass in front of her before taking the adjacent seat.

“Hello, dear,” she was warm. “I’m glad you made it.”

“Of course,” I warmly replied. “I wouldn’t miss being here.”

“You’re a good brother,” she brought her hand to my cheek.

“I don’t even think I’ve seen Henry yet.”

“He’s down for a nap,” she started drinking her wine. “They wanted him to be rested when everyone got here for photos and gifts and, well, you know how it goes.”

I laughed, “Yeah, I do.”

There was a moment of silence before she got right to it.

“Dalton’s here.”

“He is,” I curtly said.

“I’m glad.”

“Are you?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

I exhaled, “I’m not sure.”

“It’d have been nice to know ahead of time.”

“There it is,” I said under my breath.

“Just because it’s not our house or our party and it’s never polite to bring a surprise guest.”

“Noted,” I said as directly as I could muster.

“But I’m glad he’s here.”

“Why am I having a hard time believing that?”

“I don’t know, honey. Are you happy he’s here?”

“I feel weird bringing him around.”

“Why would you feel like that?”

“I don’t know,” I awkwardly laughed. “I just feel like you guys don’t like him.”

She sighed, “I won’t lie, Christian. I wasn’t happy about the idea of him coming back into your life.”

I prepared myself for the conversation I dreaded having. The one where I’m foolish for allowing a man back into my life after hurting me. How I’m stupid for trusting someone who abandoned me abruptly. The fact that I willingly threw away a solid relationship with a person who did love me, who never hurt me, to go back to someone who tossed me aside so easily. It all lived at the back of my head, often remaining quiet, but I knew it held up there like a squatter. Just waiting.

“What mother would?” she continued. “He hurt you when you were young. When you were still figuring yourself out. And then we had to pick you up off the floor after he left.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” I tried to defend.

“Honey,” she softened her approach. “You dropped out of Yale to move back home.”

“I transferred to Columbia.”

“Semantics.”

I went to protest her, but she didn’t give me a single second to get a word in.

“I watched you. You were in pieces. I watched as you slowly put yourself back together. I watched you get happy again. I watched you excel in school again, see your friends, and become the Christian I knew. And then when you met Nicolas, I was over the moon,” she smiled at me. “I thought that was the one for you. And that’s all a parent could want. I wanted you to find your one. It’s peace of mind for us.

“And then he comes back and you blow up your life.”

“I don’t think I necessarily blew up my life,” I felt defensive now.

“Let me finish,” she gave me her look. “You decided to pivot,” she emphasized her careful word choice, making me smile a little. “And you did. And you were back to that place I feared when you moved back from Connecticut.”

I had a slew of things I wanted to say and they were at the tip of my tongue, but she persisted.

“It made me wonder how a person could have that much effect over you. And I started to think about your father.”

This was not where I thought she was going and I was entirely involved out of curiosity now.

“I don’t know if you knew this, but before we settled in New York, I followed your father across the country. He was about to become a resident and I was about to go to graduate school. He was trying to place where he could have the best shot at achieving his dreams and he did. But it was in Minnesota and I never left Queens. My family thought I was crazy for dating him because he was four years older and then for doing long distance when he was in medical school. I even started to feel crazy at that point.”

She looked warm, sharing this with me, and I was grateful we were having this moment.

“But there was something about your father that I knew I needed to go with him. Despite everyone telling me not to. Despite giving up my dream at the time. But I went with him and I don’t have any regrets. I knew how he felt about me and I knew I needed to trust him. It was hard and I had my doubts, but it obviously worked out or else you wouldn’t be here,” she laughed at herself.

“When you and Nicolas separated and you moved home, I couldn’t understand it. I couldn’t understand how you found happiness again and became a more confident person by being with him would pivot like that. But then I understood. I started to see that maybe you just knew.

“And then when he came that one day when I couldn’t get you out of your bed and I saw the effect he had on you, I really knew. I still want you to be careful Christian, but if you have to move to Minnesota, move to Minnesota.”

“I—I, uh,” I cleared my throat. “Thanks, mom.”

She smiled at me and placed her hand over mine, giving it a gentle squeeze, “Of course.”

“I feel crazy, you know,” I found the words. “I wasn’t expecting any of this. He popped up after so long and it took almost nothing for everything to resurface,” I laughed. “I ju—I just don’t get it. I was happy, you know, with Nicolas. He was different. He was good. I loved him, but when Dalton came back, it just didn’t matter. And I feel awful for it, mom. I can’t believe I became that person.”

She took a deep breath, “I can’t believe it either.”

I braced for her brutal honesty.

“But I think that’s life, honey. I’ll deny this if you ever tell her, but I did not imagine your sister getting knocked up before being married. I just wasn’t expecting that one.”

A loud laugh escaped from my mouth and when I tried to cover it, my mom started laughing, too. We just sat there, laughing, leaning into one another.

“I think your brother’s dating a prostitute,” she stared at him with a girl in a very short, very tight dress. “I don’t even think she knows what a district attorney is.”

“I think you’re drunk.”

“I’m entitled to be,” she laughed harder, “it’s not my party.”

“Convenient how that works for you when you want it to.”

I had tears in my eyes that I wasn’t entirely sure if they were from how hard I was laughing or from getting my mother’s approval. Not that I needed it nor was I looking for it, but it was an unexpected reward that I wasn’t aware I need, but grateful I received.

“What’s going on here?” I heard him behind me before feeling his hands grab my shoulders.

“Join us, dear,” my mother said while wiping her eyes.

He sunk to my side, taking the seat next to me, and looked comically large in the small, white chairs.

“Do you think that girl’s a prostitute?

I couldn’t believe her right now. Dalton craned his neck at Vincent’s alleged girlfriend, looked her over once, and snapped his attention back to us.

“Maybe not a prostitute, but an escort.”

“That boy makes me worry about him,” she laughed harder.

“At least the attention’s off me.”

“Oh, honey,” she stopped laughing. “It’s a parent’s job to worry.”

He cleared his throat, “I want to apologize for the things I’ve done in the past, Mrs. Costello.”

I didn’t know this was his intention. He was so caviler earlier and in the car and I just expected him to be his typical self. Overly confident, charming Dalton. I figured this setting was a walk in the park with him, given his new day to day. And I’d never known Dalton to feel small, before the last few months. It was new and uncharted.

“You don’t need to do this, Dalton,” I said in just above a whisper.

“Let him talk,” my dad appeared out of the blue

I looked at him and he just gave me a stare and I could tell he was nervous.

“It’s nice to see you, sir.”

“Conrad,” he stuck his hand out.

“Conrad,” Dalton shook it, standing up.

“Do we need to do this?” I wanted to make myself small and disappear.

“I’d like to know what he has to say,” my father let go of Dalton and took his seat next to my mom.

Dalton sat again, “I can’t imagine what goes through your head when you think of me.”

I looked at both of them—my mother was soft and open, but my father was his typical stoic self.

“I deserve whatever does because I made a mistake years ago that affected your son. Um,” he pulled at the collar on his neck. “I have no problem sitting in board rooms, but this has me sweating.”

There it was, the Dalton I knew, trying to make its way out.

“I made a mistake when I was younger and it's one I have to live with. I know that and so do you. Your son is kind and forgiving and I don’t know if I would have forgiven me the way he has. I’m appreciative of it, but I know it probably scares you. And you both have every right to be scared or apprehensive of me. I have to earn back your trust, if there is any there to earn, and I plan to, whatever it takes,” he looked between the two of them. “I love your son. I always have. He helped me become who I am now. I don’t know if he knows that, but he did—I wouldn’t be who I am now if it wasn’t for Christian all those years ago.

“I know I’m older and that might make you nervous. I know there’s a surplus of information about me online to read about and that might make you nervous, too. I’ve done well recently and that could be something else that makes you uneasy.”

“What are you trying to get at?” my dad firmly asked.

He exhaled, “I will not hurt your son again. For whatever reason, he gave me another chance and I don’t intend to do anything to ruin that. Your son is unlike anyone I’ve ever met and I want to spend the rest of my life making him feel loved, valued, and secure. I will spend the rest of my life letting him know that I made a huge mistake hurting him when I was younger. I know I need to earn your trust and hopefully your respect one day, but I intend to because Christian means the world to me.”

Nicolas was always good with his words. It was a part of why I was drawn to him after Dalton. But somewhere along the way, his words just became words because of his ability to use them. Dalton, on the other hand, wasn’t someone to open like this. He was more action versus communication guy when it came to showing affection. And I was fine with that when we were together, but seeing him take the time to talk to my parents, to be vulnerable like he was right now, made me get that tight feeling in my throat. It made me love him. It made me want to grab him in a hug and just let the world fade around us.

“Dalton,” my voice wavered.

He turned to face me and let me see the red in his eyes.

“I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, amor, for hurting you all those years ago.”

“I know,” I managed to choke out. “I know.”

“You’re in the clear, Dalton.”

His voice was well-defined. We both turned to him and he had the slightest look of content on his face. My mom, on the other hand, was practically crying herself, latched on to my father.

“I wasn’t expecting this from you,” my dad started. “I planned to hate you. I planned to make you feel intimidated, even unwanted.”

“Dad!”

“But,” he looked at me, “it takes a real man to do what you did. So, thank you.”

I turned to look at him to see him nod and wipe under his eyes as quickly as he could.

“You have a fresh start in my book,” my father stuck his hand out again, which Dalton gladly took. “We all make mistakes when we’re young and I remember Christian telling us about the difficulties you faced when you were just a kid.”

“Thank you,” his voice faltered this time. “I mean everything I said.”

“I know,” he almost chuckled, putting his other hand atop their handshake. “If you hurt him again, I’m comin’ for you.”

I think the sudden shift in my father’s demeanor caught Dalton off guard because he let out a full-bellied laugh.

“I’m not joking, son,” a smirk ran across his face. “I get awards for how good I am with a scalpel.”

“Got it,” he was still laughing, but I couldn’t tell if it was genuine or out of awkwardness. “Just make sure you don’t mess up if it comes to that because I’ve got an entire legal department on payroll.”

There he is. Dalton was himself again.

“Lucky for us, my daughter married the DA’s son.”

“In all due respect, Conrad, I think I have him beat on this one.”

And then my father did the most unexpected thing—he broke out in laughter.

“I’m going to like you, Dalton.”