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Merrick
The silence between Davis and I ended a few hours ago, when I received the brief, one-line text asking me if I wanted to go running.
I have no doubt that seeing one another for the first time in days will be uncomfortable. The only thing I can do is be the friend I’ve been to him from the start and let him lead the way.
I’ve had a lot of time to think this through. I’ve decided that Aiden is right….I am insane. I’m setting myself up for heartache and disappointment by getting more involved with Davis than I already am. But I’m invested enough to give it some more time and see how it all unfolds. I have to believe his promise to me will eventually ring true, and that he will tell me when this relationship of ours is too much for him.
Davis is a good man, but he has a lot of baggage. I could never blame him for the pain he feels about Charlotte’s passing, but I do know that his pain has become a centerpiece of who he is. The bigger issue is his wife…their relationship….their future. I’ve spent too many years alone to be some man’s secret bedmate. I am willing to take things slow, but I am also willing to understand that I have choices to make as well. If the past few months of being friends are any indication, Davis and I have a long way to go before we could ever be happy as a couple.
I’m jumping way ahead of myself here. Reality is that he kissed me….and there’s been nothing but silence since then. I gave him my word that he could take whatever time and space he needs to work through all this in his head, but there’s a clock ticking on how long I’m willing to wait. I’m not turning into the person he’s been with Chantal, that’s for sure; silently standing by while years pass. I’m too old to be someone’s occasional fuck; too wise to ever believe there’s staying power in something like that.
Shoving my phone into the pocket of my shorts, I head to the kitchen. I’ve got meat thawing in case he decides to stick around and let me grill for him. I’ve got a bottle of wine if he doesn’t. I’m not too proud to use alcohol on occasion to soothe a broken or trampled on heart.
Letting myself out the front door, I see him jogging in place on the sidewalk; scruffy, tousled, and handsome as ever. He glances at me briefly, then immediately averts his eyes, giving me some insight to his frame of mind.
Slightly annoyed, I ask, “How’s it going?”
Davis shrugs and juts his chin in greeting, and immediately begins to run down the street. I trail after him, forcing my eyes away from his deliciously tight ass as it bounces with each pounding step.
I will not be distracted by how incredibly hot he is.
We follow the path as usual, avoiding Cannery Row that is now bustling with out of towners. We skirt a few tourists, some slow walkers, and try to avoid getting run over by cyclists. There are no words spoken between us while we run. He’s keeping a brutal pace and I muse that maybe he’s trying to outrun his demons; me being one of them. His pig-headedness makes me want to toss him down on the ground and do many really, really bad things to him.
I hard roll my eyes at myself and suck in air, moving up next to him even though my legs are burning. If he thinks he can outrun me, he’d better think again.
Per usual, we slow to jog at our usual spot at the park. We take turns drinking from the water fountain, and he jogs in place and stares at the road while I try to telepathically remind him that he promised he wouldn’t do this….to either of us.
The patience I once prided myself on has vanished in the silent miles of our run. My damn heart is taking the lead, which is why I snap, “What the hell is your problem?”
Davis’s eyes flash to mine, his sweaty face flushing at being called out for his behavior. “What are you talking about?”
Moving up to him, I gesture back and forth between the two of us. “This. You shutting me out and just expecting me to take it.”
“I’m not doing that.”
Obstinate man. “Yes, actually you are.” I move up real close, until our noses almost touch. “You promised me that you wouldn’t do this again.”
“I’m not doing anything. I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.” He steps back, putting more distance between us. “Come on. Let’s go.” His direct order infuriates me, but this is neither the time nor the place for a confrontation, so I merely nod in response.
As with the beginning of the run, he doesn’t wait for me or slow his pace to allow me to catch up. I run as I did the way out….a half-dozen paces behind, eyes fixated on the back of his dark head.
When he comes to a stop at San Carlos Beach Park and settles on the grass, I’m surprised but I follow nonetheless, settling next to him, careful to leave a proper distance between our bodies. Following is what I do with Davis…I follow whatever lead he sets. Be it our friendship and the slow unpredictable path it’s taken, or the weird emotional connection he spends more time evading then accepting. He leads and I follow…like the pathetic, desperate man he’s turning me into.Or the man I’ve always been, I admit to myself. I did, after all, do exactly this with Tim so long ago.
Knees up, elbows resting on top, he keeps his eyes on the water, his voice strained. “Yesterday I told Chantal I wanted a divorce.”
I’m usually not uncertain about anything. I’m a well-educated man and I’m fairly good at picking up on cues and emotions. But I have no idea what this statement means with regard to me. Is this his way of informing me he’ll soon be free? Is he just making conversation, trying to explain his state of mind? Should I congratulate him for taking control of his life, or express sympathy for his failed marriage?
Thankfully, he continues speaking, saving me from asking useless or stupid questions that are none of my business. “The papers are being drawn up now. She said she’ll sign them.” Dipping his head down, he gives it a lazy shake. “I don’t expect it to be that easy. She can really be stubborn.”
Two peas in a pod. “Why don’t you expect it to be easy?”
“She doesn’t want to get divorced.”
The words hit me like a hard punch to the gut. “Oh. Okay.” How have I misjudged this so badly? Of course his wife doesn’t want to let him go. Why would she? They’re bound to be able to eventually move past all their issues and find love again. Right?
He looks at me and shrugs. “I never wanted this, you know.”
Is he talking about me…her…us? I’m so damn confused and my heart feels bruised by his words. I have to force myself to say, “You didn’t?”
