When I emerge from the bathroom, Eli’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, the bottle of wine opened and on the night table, a plate of snacks in front of him, a glass of wine in his hand, naked as the day he was born.
He looks good sitting there. Like he was meant to be there all along.
Eli pats the bed next to him and plops something in his mouth. “Dude, come join me. This cheese isnom.”
I roll my eyes at his slang. “What are we, like twelve? And I thought you wanted to cuddle?”
I ruffle his hair playfully but open my mouth as he feeds me a slice of the cheese I bought at the market earlier today. And yeah, it is really good.
We sit eating for a bit in silence, Eli feeding me bites of food in between sips of wine. It’s nice. Feels right.
And that worries me. Because this can’t be a thing between us. We work together. I’m in an authority position at the hospital and he’s on my surgical staff.
He’s also a man.
I’m not sure I’m ready for this to change my life so significantly.
“Whatchya thinking about there, doc?”
Eli obviously picks up on my discomfort and the concern probably etched across my face.
“I think I mentioned last night that I’m not out. I didn’t plan on any of this to happen.”
He tilts his head, squinting his eyes at me, as if he’s trying to read my mind. “By any of this, do you mean, you didn’t plan on fucking a gay man this weekend?”
I take another gulp of wine and swallow, allowing myself some time to prepare my answer. Eli’s not all wrong about that. Of course, I wasn’t out there looking to hook-up with a man. Or even a woman for that matter. I’m just trying to get my life back on track and in order.
“Partially, yeah, that’s true. I don’t go around hooking up with men. You’ve already come out and declared yourself a gay man, so it’s easier for you. Nobody – and I meanno one– knows anything about my interest in both sexes. My career – my reputation – my family – they all think I’m a straight man.”
“So? Your sexual preferences shouldn’t matter to anyone else but you and your lovers.”
I nod in agreement. “Idealistically, sure. You’re right. But realistically? It’s going to affect the way my colleagues, the hospital staff, my friends look at me. How they treat me.”
Faster than I thought possible, Eli jumps off the bed and finds his discarded clothing, grabbing them in a huff.
“That’s bullshit, doc. And you know it.”
He eyeballs me with a dark intensity that I’ve not seen yet in Eli. He’s always been light-hearted, jovial and fun. Never angry.
My fear that he’s going to walk out that door and never speak to me again grips me in a raging panic. I can’t let that happen. With trepidation and worry, I slide off the bed and follow him out into the living room, where’s he already slipping on his shoes and jacket, his back to me.
“Eli, wait. Please don’t leave like this. Let me explain,” I beg, wrapping my arms around his torso and clinging to him like a child whose being abandoned. “I want the weekend with you. You said you understood our arrangement.”
He scoffs with an angrypfft, shrugging my arms from his middle and turning so he can give me hell directly to my face. He spears me with his glare.
“Well, I changed my mind, doc. I have that right, just like you have the right to hide yourself from the world. But let me tell you this,” he jabs a finger into my chest so hard I think it’ll leave a bruise.
At least I’ll have something left from him.
I square my shoulders, ready to take whatever he’s going to give me. He deserves the right to have his say, even though I might not agree with it. Even though I want to pull him close and shut him up with my mouth over his.
“You’re not doing yourself any favors. You think you are, but you’re only denying your own true happiness. I’ve seen it happen and it turns good, ‘upstanding’ men into weak, closeted gay men who don’t even recognize themselves anymore.”
My skills in rebuttal and debate seem to fly out the window because I’m at a loss for words. Because I know he’s right but that doesn’t make it any easier. He doesn’t understand that I can’t just turn into someone else overnight. What will my friends and family think? Or the Chief of Surgery? The hospital administrators? It’s a church-affiliated hospital, for heaven’s sake. Or my parents and all their high society friends?
The memory of what happened to Bryce Rolands, a family friend and a former classmate of mine at St. Peter’s Academy, pops into my head. Bryce came out his second year in college and was so ostracized that he wound up committing suicide from the shame he felt. Or at least, that’s the reason I think he used for taking his own life. Either way, it didn’t end up well for him and that same circle of friends would be no less accepting of me or my lifestyle.
Bowing my head in shame, I avert my eyes to the floor, avoiding his accusations.
