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“It’s hard to explain, Cora.”
“Hard to explain? No, Marky. Hard to explain is when your own fiancé won’t even kiss you at your own engagement party. Hard to explain is when you would barely hold my hand all night, but I’m supposed to cheer when people congratulate us on being a happy couple?” I shake my head, infuriated. “Hard to explain is when I feel like the man who proposed to me just last month seems to no longer love me in the slightest.”
I stop talking, my whole body trembling with rage and heartbreak and confusion. What the hell is so hard to explain?
“Cora,” he begins.
“No, no.” Exasperated, I bolt outside of Frankie’s, needing fresh air and space. The cool late night breeze hits me hard, and I start shivering.
“Cora,” Marky follows me outside. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Try the truth, Marky!” I yell, not caring if the wait-staff inside overhears our argument. I’d rather we argue about whatever it is than Marky keep avoiding me.
But to my complete and utter surprise, Marky’s bottom lip begins to tremble like a baby. Then, he bursts into tears in front of me, his entire face going red.
Alarmed, I immediately go to my fiancé and pull him into my arms.
“Oh, gosh, no Marky. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m a little tipsy and feeling hurt, I’m sorry.”
“Cora,” he whispers.
“What is it? Just talk to me.” I stroke his dark hair. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
Marky pulls away from me, but keeps both hands on my shoulders, his usually bright eyes full of sadness and worry.
“I have no idea how to say this, so here goes.” He takes a steadying breath. “I’m gay.”
And in that moment, it all makes perfect sense: Marky’s physical hesitancy whenever we were in bed together, his late nights out with ‘the boys,’ and most of all, the surreptitious texts with Brett tonight.
“You’re gay,” I say in an expressionless voice.
“Yes.” Marky sighs, immediate relief etched on his handsome face.
“You only figured this out now? During our engagement dinner?”
“I’m sorry, Cora, I’m so sorry.” Marky’s eyes are full of tears, and I can tell he’s hurting deeply. I’m hurt too, though, and intend to let him know it.
“You proposed to me Marky. Why would you do that if you’re gay?”
Marky drops his hands from my shoulders, and shakes his head sorrowfully.
“Honestly? I’ve known for a while, but I wasn’t ready to share it yet. And we’d been dating for so long and everyone kept bringing up marriage and I guess I just felt pressured to ask.”
“Wow.” I don’t know what to say to him.
Truthfully, I’m not entirely shocked by the news. In fact, I’m relieved to learn that a lot of the problems we’d been having as a couple suddenly make sense. At least Marky is telling me now, before our engagement goes any further.
Marky takes one of my hands in his, still crying and looking completely defeated.
“I do love you. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever known, Cora, and I’m sorry that I’m hurting you. I know this comes at a bad time.”
I look at my handsome fiancé carefully, trying to process all of the different events that have led us to this intense moment outside the entrance of a fancy restaurant.
I sigh.
“Marky, I could say that I’m in complete shock, but that wouldn’t be totally true.” I brace myself for what I have to say next. “I’ve been wondering about your, um, preferences, for a while now, so maybe I was suspecting it? I’m not sure.”
“You were?” Marky looks surprised by my confession, his tears finally seeming to ease up.
“Yeah, a little. And I thought I was being silly but I guess it turns out that I was right. It was mostly the little things, but also some of the big ones. Like how you always seem to hesitate when it comes to PDA, or how you seem to have generic compliments about my attractiveness, but very specific ones when it comes to my outfits.”
“Cora I’m so sorry, I never meant to be mean to you.” Marky begins quickly, but I reassure him.
“Honestly Marky? I’m not saying any of this to hurt you – I’m upset with myself maybe more than you. I should have asked you about why you’re so physically distant or how in the world you came to care so much about face creams and under-eye serums.” I laugh, genuinely amused at my own cluelessness.
Yet there were multiple red flags.
As much I admire Marky’s gorgeous looks and perfect skin, the man has a more complicated beauty regimen than most women. I’ve seen him drop hundreds of dollars on creams, masks, colognes, and hair products. His wardrobe is meticulous and full of perfectly cut blazers, bright polos, and Italian loafers. He loves fashion magazines and is always suggesting different outfit ideas for me. I’d always assumed his interest was just because he likes looking good, and that’s a positive, right? I could be dating a guy who wears sweats everyday and smells like a locker room.
