Honeymoon for One: Gay Romance
: Chapter 2

The stairwell was dark. Because of course it was. Ethan was apparently the only one who gave a shit about fire codes.

His stupidly bare feet were numb and sore. He’d walked around Prospect Park in his wet leather shoes and then holed up in another coffee shop, sitting there for hours, his mind spinning and hearing aids off.

He’d turned off his phone, and as he swiped it on now to use the flashlight, his screen lit up with a wall of texts. Mostly Todd and Michael. One from Clara. A couple from other confused friends asking about the roller-skating party and where Ethan and Michael were—people who were really Michael’s friend’s, not his.

Ethan trudged up the stairs. When he reached the top, he walked to his apartment and stood in front of it with the key in hand. Then he put in his hearing aids and switched them on. Holding his breath, he leaned in and listened. Was Michael there? Was Todd?

A fresh wave of pain knifed through him. How could Todd do this? Todd, who had gone to Ethan’s classes and taken notes for him when his hearing had sharply declined, on top of his own course load. Who’d skipped numerous parties to hole up with Ethan and play video games without asking a million questions and always waiting for Ethan to want to talk.

That same person had had Michael’s dick inside him that afternoon. And who knew how many afternoons before. And mornings and evenings and nights—all the possible times they’d been together now ticking through Ethan’s head uncontrollably. And Todd had probably had his dick inside Michael too, an image which now filled Ethan’s mind, competing with the litany of times they could have cheated.

When Ethan had gone to his uncle’s for this past Thanksgiving, Todd said he had to work, and Michael had claimed he had to work overtime on the mock-ups for a new ad campaign. Had that all just been excuses to spend the weekend fucking?

Ethan thought of every time the three of them had laughed together, eaten together, played together, or just…been. All tainted now. Years of memories. Ethan wanted to crack open his skull and reach into his brain to scoop them out. Dump them into the toilet and flush them away in a swirl of rushing water.

There was nothing else to do, so Ethan turned the key in the lock. The light was on, and he could tell Michael was there. He wasn’t sure how—he just sensed it. After he took off his shoes and hung up his coat, he passed through into the living room, his bare feet tingling as they thawed.

Michael stood by the edge of the black leather couch, which was stylishly sharp-angled and ridiculously uncomfortable, his hands jammed into the pockets of his skinny jeans. It was after midnight, and he’d evidently been waiting. He shifted anxiously from foot to foot, dropping his face, his gelled hair still a mess. He said something about Clara.

“What?” Ethan asked. He just wanted to get in a hot shower and defrost. And wake up from this nightmare.

Michael glanced up at him. “I said Clara ripped me a new one.”

Good. Ethan shrugged, waiting. Was he supposed to feel sorry for poor Michael?

“Mumble mumble uncle’s.”

Like he was playing Wheel of Fortune, Ethan guessed and filled in the blanks. “The drive to Cheektowaga is, like, six and a half hours, and that’s with okay traffic.”

Good thing Ethan’s aunt was due to pop with their fifth kid any minute, and Uncle Chuck had been afraid if they came to New York for the wedding she might go into labor too far away from their doctor. Ethan would have hated them to make the trip for nothing. He and his dad’s younger brother weren’t super close, but Chuck was the only family he had left. He was a good guy, and he’d find room in his cramped house if Ethan needed to crash, but Ethan couldn’t deal with anyone right now.

“And I don’t have a car anyway, so.”

Michael nodded. “And you hate the Greyhound.”

Resentment bubbled up, bitter on Ethan’s tongue as he spat, “Yeah, I do. You know me so well, right? Guess what else I hate? Cheating liars. Somehow you missed that over the years?”

Michael muttered something, hanging his head.

“I can’t hear when you don’t look at me!” Ethan shouted.

Michael straightened up. “Sorry. I said I deserved that.”

“Gosh, thanks for the validation.”

Michael’s jaw clenched briefly. “Can we please talk about this like adults?”

“Oh, am I being immature here? My bad.”

“I know what we did was wrong, okay? But everything’s been so good, and we didn’t want to mess that up. You were finally living again. You were so depressed before. For years.” He ran a hand through his hair, the ends sticking up. “Years, Eth. But I hung in there.”

“You didn’t need to do me any favors.” Ethan’s cheeks were hot, and he fought the urge to squirm. Shame rushed through him. “You should never have said yes when I proposed.”

“I couldn’t say no. You were finally back in the land of the living. And I do want to marry you!” Michael lifted his hands, beseeching. “I know how important it is to you because of that stuff with your mom. I wanted to be your family. I wanted to give you what you need.”

“I needed you to not be fucking my best friend behind my back!” Don’t cry. Do not fucking cry.

Michael sighed, dropping his arms to his sides. “I know. But I really do love you. I just don’t love only you. There was no good way to tell you. We were going to bring it up before the wedding was planned, but then the holidays were coming, and… It was never the right time.” He said something else, but Ethan couldn’t make it out since Michael was rubbing his face.

“God, would you keep your hands away from your mouth when you’re talking? I can’t fucking understand you when you do that! How many times do I have to tell you?”

Michael yelled back, “I’m sorry! I try my best! But it’s never good enough for you!”

Ethan winced, his hearing aids amplifying the shouting uncomfortably. “It’s not that complicated to speak slowly and clearly!”

“I try! But it gets really old repeating myself over and over!”

“Fuck, if it was so hard, why didn’t you just dump me ages ago? And gee, sorry you couldn’t find a good time to tell me about your cheating. I can imagine it’s hard to find the right moment to tell your boyfriend—no, your fiancé!—that you’re also fucking his best friend and we’re supposed to share you now or some shit. Be some big, open happy family.”

Michael crossed his arms. “It works really well for a lot of people, okay? Just think about it for a minute. I mean, haven’t you been so much happier the past year? I’ve been trying to give you everything you want.”

“Fuck.” Ethan shook his head. “That’s why you suggested Australia. Why you’ve been agreeing with just about everything I say. Everything I want to do you’ve said yes, when in the past you wouldn’t have. Jesus. I thought it was finally coming together for me—for us—that we were working at compromise, but it was all a lie.”

And deep down, I knew it.

That was possibly the worst part. That amid his depression, he’d known he was losing Michael. That something fundamental had changed. But when Ethan had started initiating sex again, he’d thought things had gotten better. Michael had seemed as eager as always, hadn’t he? Maybe they’d both been trying too hard.

I thought getting married would fix it all somehow.

Ethan’s fingers tingled, shock waving through him as true understanding settled in and made a home. As he’d come out of the fugue state he’d been in for too long, he’d been desperate to be happy again. For everything to be perfect. He’d ignored the warning bells that told him there was something off. The doubts about Michael and whether they should really spend the rest of their lives together.

Michael had stayed with him when he’d been depressed, and Ethan had convinced himself that meant everything, even though they didn’t really have much in common now aside from their shared history.

Michael watched him warily. He cleared his throat and said, “Eth, maybe you should sit down.”

“Oh my God, I was such a fool. I knew we weren’t right anymore, and I thought getting married would somehow be a magic fix. And you were…humoring me. For how long? How many other guys have there been? Fuck, we’d talked about not using condoms anymore!” They always had since they’d gotten together during school, a habit they hadn’t broken since Ethan in particular had always been a rule follower. “We got tested last month and everything. And you didn’t say a word.”

“And we’re both uninfected!” Michael’s eyes were wide with hurt. “I would never have unprotected sex and risk you. Or myself. And there hasn’t been anyone else but Todd. We always use condoms.”

“Should I be grateful for that? You’ve lied to me for two years! Or maybe longer—how can I trust anything you say? Not that it matters. I can’t…” He shook his head. “I can’t believe you did this. For what? Sex?”

Now Michael’s eyes flashed. “Well it’s not like you had much interest in fucking me! For years. Yeah, you know what?” He inhaled sharply, lifting his head, standing straighter with righteousness. “Sex is important to me. I needed more than you wanted to give. A lot more. You were so depressed for so long, and you barely let me touch you. It always felt like you were doing me the favor if you deigned to let me fuck you, or if you gave me a half-hearted blow job.”

Ethan wanted to deny it, but he couldn’t, the simmering guilt bubbling up. During his depression, he hadn’t had any interest in sex, and after a while, it became infrequent at best. But the past year when Ethan had tried so hard to fix everything, it had been better!

Too little, too late.

Still, he had to say it. “But hasn’t it been really good lately? I… I thought it was.” He also thought he might throw up from the humiliation. He’d been so certain their sex life was better than ever, but it hadn’t been good enough. What a fucking fool he’d been.

Michael’s dark eyes went tender. “It’s been so amazing connecting with you again. But…” He shook his head. “It’s still not enough for me. And it’s not you. I wouldn’t be satisfied with just one man, no matter who he is. And I don’t mean that just sexually. I need a lot of interaction and intimacy. That’s who I am.”

Swallowing thickly, Ethan muttered, “That doesn’t give you the right to cheat on me. To lie to my face for so long.”

“No, it doesn’t. I was wrong.” Michael nodded, but he was still holding his head high, that righteousness remaining. “When we first got together, I hadn’t really figured out what I was into. It was always pretty vanilla with us, and I want more than that—kinkier things that you aren’t into. I shouldn’t have to apologize for who I am.”

“No, not for wanting it—for lying and going behind my back. You never talked to me about it! If I’m not kinky enough for you, you should have said something.” Now it was his turn for righteous indignation. “And I can be kinky! You don’t know what I want! You’ve just had this idea of me.”

His mind raced, running through memories, trying to pinpoint when he should have known. Then a wave of sadness washed over him, sapping his energy. “We’ve lived together for years, and I don’t think we really knew each other deep down.”

Michael seemed to deflate as well, and his eyes glistened. “I guess not.”

They stood and stared at one another, the truth of it all oppressive and heavy in the air. Ethan cleared his throat. “I think you should go. There’s nothing left to say.”

There was nothing left, period.

Michael said something too softly. As Ethan stared at him questioningly, he asked again, “What about the wedding?”

“Call everyone and cancel. I’m not marrying you, Michael. Not tomorrow. Not ever. I can never trust you again. It’s over.”

“Fuck, Ethan.” He swiped the fresh tears from his eyes. “Look, I know I screwed up. I was afraid. I know it was wrong, but… Mumble.”

“There’s no but. You and Todd cheated on me and lied to my face for two years. You didn’t tell me because you knew I wouldn’t want this. So instead of just manning up and coming clean, you guys lied and lied and lied. You were going to marry me and get my health benefits and keep on fucking my best friend behind my back. Right?”

Michael sighed. “We wanted to tell you. We were going to tell you.”

“In another couple years?” Ethan laughed humorlessly. “Get. Out. Go stay with Todd, or Clara, or whoever—I don’t fucking care. I’ll pack all my stuff this weekend.”

“And go where?” Michael said something Ethan couldn’t pick up, and then apparently realized, saying more slowly, “It could take months to get a new place.”

Fuck, it was true. The thought of finding another apartment in New York was the final nut-crushing cherry on top of this shit sundae. Ethan wanted to curl into a ball and sleep. Make it all go away. “I don’t know.”

“You should stay here.” Michael nodded resolutely. “I’ll move out.”

“You think I can live here after this? No. I never liked this furniture anyway. This is all your taste. I just went along with it because I was too depressed to care. You can keep it. Fuck, I never even wanted to move to the city.” Living in New York had been Michael’s dream—and Todd’s. Ethan had followed along because where else would he have gone? Michael and Todd were his everything. Of course he’d gone with them.

Michael tensed, his voice raising, the words coming quickly. “Oh, so that’s my fault now? I mumble you mumble?” He paused, then spoke more clearly. “I made you come here after college? No. You had no clue what you wanted to do. Aside from feeling sorry for yourself. You had hardly any family, and you never tried to make new friends, but I stuck by you.”

“Lucky me! And yeah, on top of both my parents dying before I was twenty, losing my hearing was really fucking depressing! It sucked. It still sucks. It’ll continue to suck. It is a struggle. Every. Single. Day. You don’t understand how draining it is. How something little like buying a pack of gum or ordering lunch can be exhausting. This city is so loud, and it drowns out the words.”

Michael’s shoulders slumped. “I know. I’m sorry.” He scrubbed at his hair, then dropped his hand, defeated. He motioned to the angular coffee table. “What about the rings?”

The blue velvet box was sitting there, the hammered titanium rings inside. Michael loved the dark, non-traditional rings, and Ethan had gone along since he’d simply been thrilled Michael had agreed to marriage in the first place.

Ethan shrugged, little more than a jerk of his shoulder. “Pawn them. Whatever. Marry Todd instead and use them.”

“That’s not—” Michael sighed, apparently thinking better of what he was going to say. “I never wanted this to happen. I wanted to tell you the truth right after the first time with Todd, but we kept digging ourselves deeper. We kept saying we’d tell you soon.”

Ethan had nothing more to add. He waited, wanting Michael out of his sight. Out of his life—although the idea also sent shivery terror through him like ice water down his spine. What is my life without Michael and Todd? Who am I without them?

Michael held out his hands again. “Maybe—maybe once some time passes, you can think about giving it a try. You know Grace and Sarah and Lina? They have an amazing poly relationship. Baby, if you can open your mind to it—”

“I’m not your baby.” The fury seemed to have burned itself out for the moment, and now there was only sorrow. Michael was right that Grace, Sarah, and Lina seemed to have an awesome poly relationship. But Ethan was pretty sure they’d all gone into it with consent.

Reality pressed down around him, making it hard to breathe. This was actually happening. When he’d woken that morning, he’d had a completely different life. A life that was a massive lie. The earth was scorched and there was no going back.

He repeated, “I’m not your baby, and you’re not mine. Not now. Not ever again. I trusted you both. More than anyone. In a hundred years, I could never forgive you. And maybe that makes me immature or petty, but that’s the way it is.” His empty stomach roiled. “There’s nothing else to say. I’ll put my shit in storage and stay at a hotel until…”

Fuck, until what?

All he knew was that he wanted to get as far away from Michael and Todd as humanly possible. He had the three weeks off work for the honeymoon, so at least he could apartment hunt…

The idea that Clara had planted bloomed in his mind. Wait, why did he have to stay in New York? The trip was paid for. He had the time off. And he couldn’t get much farther way than the other side of the world.

Ethan cleared his throat, a tiny light flickering beyond the hurt and shock and fear—a kernel of hope he could barely recognize as he grasped for it. “Until I figure out where I’m going to live after I get back from Australia.”

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