His apartment or condo or whatever, was only ten minutes away.We didn’t talk, but he was walking so close that our elbows brushed.I put my hands in my pockets because I still had my pride.Though I wanted to touch him, I didn’t want him to know.
He stopped walking.“This is it.”
I didn’t know what he wanted me to say.“It’s big.”
“You wanna come up for a coffee?”he said.
“You drink coffee now?”
“No,” he said.
So, he wasn’t done showing off his life to me.
“What do you want, Eddie?”
“Come up so we can talk in private.Please?”
I was knotting up inside and couldn’t look at him.He’d hardly ever asked me for anything the whole time I’d known him.
“Okay,” I said.
A doorman held the door for us.I felt seriously underdressed for this place.I didn’t want to think how much money he must be making.I was happy he was doing well, but also, I felt like a kid from the sticks, and I was suddenly conscious of the fact that I wasn’t wearing anything underneath my warm-up gear.
The elevator was huge, so I gave him lots of space.I didn’t want him thinking I was planning to try anything.He lived on the top floor.The elevator pinged, and we got out.The hallway was all plush carpet.
He unlocked the door and held it for me.
It was a palace compared to my place.He led me from the entranceway into the apartment.I could hear the TV.There was a big sunken lounge, and sitting on a huge leather sofa was Eddie’s costar.Joel.
Now I understood.He didn’t just want to show me how big his place was and how well he was doing.He wanted to show me he’d moved on.I was kicking myself for falling for it.
Joel switched off the TV.
“Joel, this is Craig,” said Eddie.“Craig, Joel.”
“Hi,” I said.I felt physically sick.
“Eddie’s told me a lot about you, Craig,” said Joel, and he got up, came over, and shook my hand.He had a perfect handshake.If it was the Olympics, he’d win a silver for handshakes, only because he’d be too polite to take the gold.He was taller than me too.I wondered what Eddie had told him about me.That I was this loser he’d dated, who couldn’t stand up to his parents, who took seven months to figure out he was bi?
There was an awkward pause.I wanted to turn around and walk out.
Then something weird happened.Joel went over to the door, picked up his wallet and keys, and said, “I’m going out.”
“Got a hot date?”Eddie asked him.
What a weird thing to say to your boyfriend.
“Don’t wait up,” said Joel, and he smiled.Then he left.
Maybe he could tell how awkward I felt, and he didn’t want to rub my nose in it because he was a more generous person than I was.I guess he could afford to be.
It meant I couldn’t walk out now, or I’d run into Joel at the elevator.
“Your boyfriend seems nice,” I said.I tried to sound casual, but it came out strangled.
“Joel’s not my boyfriend.”
I felt like I’d been sucker punched.He was looking at me, not angry, not kidding.He was looking at me the same way he had right after our first time.Which didn’t make sense.
