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Of course, he might have been gluten-free, Peyton realized. Or maybe vegan. Maybe one of those militant vegans who wanted to veganize the entire world? He hadn’t really taken into consideration that his neighbor could have restrictions.
It was almost ironic considering his own. No nuts, no eggs, no legumes, no seeds, no citrus. He felt like an immediate fool for not only sending over a random plate of muffins to a man he’d never met, but then also for being upset when they were rejected.
His pacing ceased and his shoulders sagged, and he heard his brother walk a few steps closer. “Whose ass am I kicking?”
Peyton scoffed. “Mine. I was being a dipshit.” He finally looked up at Linden who had his head cocked to the side, an icy look of determination in his eyes. It was the same one he used to wear in high school when he’d get suspended for beating down kids who thought their racist jokes were funny. “I brought the neighbor muffins and he sent them back,” Peyton confessed.
Linden’s eyes immediately began to scan the kitchen, and his gaze locked onto the plate that still had the note attached. Marching over, he picked it up, then let out a small growl. “What the fuck?”
Peyton held up both hands. “Dude, no. It’s fine. He’s probably gluten-intolerant or something. I didn’t even ask.”
“He could have said that instead of leaving this note,” Linden insisted, shaking the little piece of paper so hard, Peyton was surprised it didn’t rip.
Walking over, Peyton plucked the note from his brother’s hand and set it back on the counter. He should have thrown it away. He wasn’t quite sure why he didn’t. Maybe it was just a reminder that not everyone was going to be charmed by his own unique love language.
“I don’t care about him,” Peyton said—a slight lie. He was, by nature, a people pleaser and it got under his skin when strangers disliked him. His brother knew it but didn’t call him out. “So far he’s quiet and…”
It was almost as if the universe was trying to test him because in the pause during his sentence, there was a sudden, loud squawking. It was muffled through the wall, but still loud enough to cut through their conversation.
“What the actual fuck?” Linden demanded.
Peyton could have sworn he’d heard the bird the night before, but it had been three in the morning, and he was high as a kite on painkillers, so he thought it was just a dream. Apparently not.
Apparently, the new neighbor had a bird.
“Just ignore it,” Peyton said. The noise went on though, so eventually he led the way into the living room where the sound was more muffled.
“You can’t live like that,” Linden insisted. “Go next door and tell that fucker to shut it up.”
Peyton waved him off. “I’m pretty sure the guy works during the day. He wasn’t home when I dropped off the muffins. It’s probably why the bird’s bitching.”
“So he neglects animals, too? He sounds like a real winner.”
Peyton sighed. “Will you please drop it. Your anger isn’t helping my stress levels.”
“Fine.” Linden didn’t look satisfied, but he also seemed like he wasn’t going to push the issue. He dropped onto the couch and rested his head against Peyton’s shoulder. It was a familiar position from when they were younger and feeling strange, emotional pain their parents could never understand.
“Are you happy here?”
Peyton sighed. “You ask me that a lot.”
“Because you don’t seem happy,” Linden said. He pushed up and turned to face his brother. “You were always so…bright. You were always laughing and no matter how bad things were feeling, you could always find… God, I’m going to sound like such a fucking jackass, but you could always find the light at the end of the tunnel.”
Peyton’s gut twisted with a new but familiar ache, even as he managed a tight grin. “I know. I mean, I know that’s what everyone thought. And Iwashappy,” he added, because saying he wasn’t would have been a lie. “Everyone just counted on me to be that guy, you know? I think after losing control over my body, something just cracked.” Peyton’s voice went small and soft as he prepared to admit something aloud he’d only been saying to himself—and one time his therapist. “How am I supposed to live like this, Lin? How can I meet a guy and be like hey, I’m super fucking gay but we can never do anal, and I can barely get my dick hard these days because I shit into a bag and don’t know how to be sexy anymore.”
Linden looked at him a long time before he spoke. “How long have you felt this way?”
Peyton let out a slightly bitter laugh. “I don’t know. Months. Since the doctor told me what he had to do.” He ran a hand down his face then shrugged.
Linden elbowed him gently. “You could have told me before. I would have listened.”
“I know,” Peyton said with a bitter laugh, dragging a hand down his face. “But I can barely talk about this whole thing to my therapist who is being paid for it. I still feel like myself. Nothing makes me happier than baking and watching people smile when they eat my food. I still sing in the morning, and I think I’ve half-adopted a stray cat. But right now, it feels like there’s a piece of me missing and I don’t know how to get it back. I don’t know if Ican.”
Linden looked slightly uncomfortable. “I don’t…I’ve never…”
Peyton reached for him, squeezing his arm. “I know your first reaction is to fix it for me, but this time you can’t. This time, there’s nothing you can say. I don’t need saving, okay? I just need time to mourn this fucking massive loss.”
Linden instantly deflated. “Wow. I’ve been a huge asshole, haven’t I?”
