“Everyone deserves to be happy, darlin’,”she said, reading my mind and smirking.“Evenyou. But you’ll never be happy if you stay inthatblack hole of painthatyou currently live in.”
“It’s safe there,”I replied, my voice cracking.
“And lonely?”She raised a brow in question before she cupped either side of my head and pulled me down to her level to place a soft kiss on my forehead. Releasing me, she took a step back.“People get hurt in life, Ben, it’s what you do withthatpainthatmatters. You can either let it pull you further into the darkness, or you can usethatpain to make your life better. Maybeevenmake other people’s lives better.”
The outline of her figure began to fade away along with the wine bar, but I wasn’t ready for her to leave. I was finding her presence oddly comforting.“I don’t know how to live anywhere but the black hole,”I admitted, knowing our time was running out.
“Maybe there is someone in your life who can show you the way. You may not have noticed it, but he’s already changing you. Two weeks ago, would you have given someone a lift home because you didn’t want him to get cold?”
Too lost for words, I was helpless but to watch Barbara fade away, the last thing to vanish was her knowing smile.
Ben
Ididn’t go back to sleep after the vision—because that’s what it was, a vision. I had finally accepted that it had been too real to be a dream. Even when my alarm sounded at 5 am, telling me to get my ass out of bed and go for my morning workout in my home gym, I still didn’t move.
The events of the past few days churned in my head: the visits from both Jake and Barbara, what happened between Tristan and me in the foyer, the feelings he elicited, which I had done my best to ignore.
Barbara was right. Two weeks ago, I wouldn’t have offered a freezing kid a lift home, but after seeing Tristan leave the bar after his date—alone, which I was more relieved about than I cared to admit—and knowing how cold it was, I couldn’t bear the thought of him getting ill. I hadn’t even tried to talk myself out of it as I pulled up alongside him and told him to get in.
My head was in turmoil. For years, I’d locked those memories of my past in the deepest recesses of my brain, along with all the others from over the years: the random punch to the gut by kids after I’d been released from the hospital wing, the times they trashed my room and graffitied the walls with homophobic slurs.
The cruel taunts telling me I should kill myself.
I thought I’d escape it when I reached eighteen and left the home, but then I met Jake. He wasn’t only homophobic, but also racist and sexist, too. I tolerated it because he was the only person in my life. If it wasn’t for Jake and his inheritance that started our business, I wouldn’t be where I was today.
The realization of that hit me like a bomb. I was alone and miserable.
Maybe my life could have been different if Derek hadn’t turned the home against me. If I’d stood up to him and fought back, if I’d told the teachers the real reason why I was attacked. If I told Jake that, yeah, I did prefer cock over pussy, then maybe I wouldn’t be living alone, hating the world.
Hating myself.
When my phone vibrated with a second alarm telling me it was 6.15 am, I reluctantly got out of bed to get ready for work. My mind continued to churn as nerves decided to spread through my body. Tristan would arrive soon.
That was if he even decided to come back. After I told him to get out of my house on Saturday, and the hurt that had covered his face, I wouldn’t have blamed him if I never saw him again. The thought was like a heavy stone landing in my stomach.
So, when the telltale sign of a van traveling up my driveway reached me at nearly 7 am, I almost sprinted to the front door and threw it open. Relief swept through me as his van stopped, and he jumped out, wearing his tight, paint-stained t-shirt and black cargo pants that framed his toned ass.
He grabbed two coffees from inside his van and sauntered to the front door, not a hint of anger on his face.“Morning, dude, got you your coffee.”
I reached out to take it, wondering if this was another vision.“Uh, thanks. I…um…I wasn’t sure if you’d be here today.”
Tristan smirked, giving me his custom grin that I’d hated at first but was becoming to crave.“I’ve still got shit to do, why would I not be here?”
I shrugged.“Just, you know, after…”I trailed off, my cheeks flaming.
For several long beats, the two of us stared at each other, unspoken words lingering in the air. Tristan cleared his throat before tapping my shoulder.“It’s all good. I’m not one to walk away from unfinished work, no matter what.”His gaze dropped, almost as if he suddenly couldn’t look at me.“I best get on with it, I’ve got a lot to do.”
He turned to head back to his van, but before he could get far, I called out,“Bug.”
Spinning back to me, amusement danced across his features.“You do know that’s not my actual name, right?”
His playful tone made my entire body relax.“Bug suits you better,”I said, taking several large strides to stand in front of him.“I just wanted to say sorry for what happened on Saturday.”
For the briefest of moments, his eyes widened as if he couldn’t quite believe I was apologizing. It was a first; I couldn’t rememberevertelling anyone I was sorry.
“Sorry for what happened between us, or sorry for telling me to get out of your house?”
I sucked in a breath at the memory of his cock in my hand and how good it felt.“No, I’m not sorry for what happened between us,”I admitted as a weight lifted off my shoulders.“I’m sorry for how I spoke to you after. I just…I…”
