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Leland
The silence stretched to full capacity during the ride back to Franky’s place. We’d made an unspoken agreement to keep our words to ourselves until we could share them uninterrupted and without distractions. Neither of us wanted to pour our hearts out as we sped along the highway.
Franky didn’t waste any time getting comfortable for the approaching confrontation, yanking off his blazer and tie as soon as we walked through the door. It was like he’d thought putting it on in the first place could take him back to how things were before he’d decided to try his own happiness on for size, but it didn’t work. Of course it didn’t.
Ambling into the living room behind him, I idled near the sofa while he opened up the living room wall and breathed in the ocean air before lowering his chin to his chest.
“What was that back there?” I asked, taking the lead. “Between you and Noon.”
“I was jealous,” he said, stunning me. Not because I hadn’t been teetering toward that conclusion, but because I’d expected it to take a round of shock therapy to get him to admit it. No, not admit it, because for the most part, Franky was an honest man. I’d expected it to take more prodding for him torealizeit.
“I hated that he had the privilege of touching you in a way that I…” He faded off, leaving me to imagine how his sentence would have ended if he’d had the courage to complete it.In a way that I don’t.
“And then he wanted to take you from me. To care for you when I’d planned to basically dump you at the curb.” He grunted, then said under his breath, “No one takes anyone else from me.”
Anyone else?I thought curiously. I didn’t know where to go next, didn’t know if I should be apologizing or rejoicing. The atmosphere felt heavy and wrong, yet liberating and right. We weren’t pretending anymore. His answer had given us the freedom to be truthful, no matter how ugly the truth would be.
“Last night while in bed,” he began, as I stood there clutching the sofa back, wading through my mangled emotions. “I stared at the empty space next to me, wishing someone was there. That someone wasn’t my wife.” His pain was audible, screaming over his whispered words, and I wanted to rip myself from my spot and comfort him as he lifted his head to the churning storm clouds outside.
“I climaxed to the memory of a lean body, of someone who shouldn’t even be in my life, let alone my fantasies. That person wasn’t my wife, Leland. I experienced an orgasm so intense it felt like I’d exited my body, and it wasn’t Selene’s name I called to get me there.”
“What are you saying?” I asked, locking my knees when they promised to buckle.
“I’m dying here, Leland,” he said gruffly. “Don’t finish me off by making me spell it out for you.”
But I needed him to spell it out, to write it out, to fuckingbleedit out. This was too big to leave anything up for interpretation. Neither of us could be left guessing. Maybe he needed me to put myself on the line too. The way he had just done.
“I didn’t know it at the time, but I’ve wanted you since the day I laid eyes on you. That day on the roof, your fears called out to mine. You made me want to be brave before you’d ever said one word to me. That’s how much you affect me, Franky.”
Franky took the two steps needed to place him on the patio. I followed, more like chased him. I didn’t want him moving farther away from our current reality. Farther away from me.
“You scare me,” I admitted, closing in on him with purpose. “But I want to face you anyway, because you make me want to face everything that terrifies me. You’re married, and I… I’ve tried to care. I mean, I’ve tried tostillcare. But no matter how hard I try, your marriage doesn’t stop me from wishing I was in that empty space you spoke about, and it doesn’t stop me from blowing my load every fucking chance I get from just thinking about your sinful voice, or your dark moods, or the way you surprise even yourself when you laugh.” I sunk my fingers into his silky hair, feeling sympathy for the terror written across his face, but I pressed on anyway.
“You’re more than complicated. You’re a stick of fucking dynamite, Franky. Capable of blowing me to pieces, but I want you anyway.”
“I-I’m married,” he said, which came out as more of a reminder to himself.
“I don’t care,” I said, out of breath. “Not anymore. And maybe that makes me a bad person, but I want you too much to fucking care, Franky. You taught me to ask for what I want, even if the answer is no. I’m asking if I can have you, even if it’s only for a little while.”
“We can’t,” he said resolutely, spinning away from me, leaving my hands empty and my heart bruised. My first reaction was to retreat from his rejection, a turtle backing into its shell. It was a cold reminder of why I didn’t depend on anyone. I’d bled for him and was wounded deeply for my troubles. Then I remembered something he’d once told me.
“Wasn’t the possibility of getting what you wanted worth the risk of rejection?”
“Why can’t we?” I asked, allowing him the space he’d put between us. “You’re technically separated, and you said this summer was for figuring your shit out. How do you plan on doing that if you don’t actually figure your shit out?”
“I’m not sure an affair, which is exactly what this would be, constitutes as figuringanythingout. If anything, it complicates things further, Leland.”
“She cheated first,” I said quickly, before I lost my nerve. “Emotional cheating stillqualifies as cheating.”
The sky rumbled, the ocean grew agitated, and birds abandoned their branches. Everything, including us, waited on a precipice, waited for what would happen next.
“I won’t use that as an excuse,” he said. “I refuse to. And besides, it isn’t even a good one.”
I disagreed, but because I wasn’t sure if my disagreement came from my core beliefs or because I wanted him, I didn’t challenge his point.
“What do you want, Franky?” This was no longer about us, about taking what we wanted. I cared about him, and I needed to know—neededhimto know—what he wanted for not just this moment in time, but for his life. And maybe hearing it from him would help me decide what I wanted from my own life too. As it stood, I couldn’t see beyond wanting him.
“A new job?” I asked when he remained mute. “Not to have a job? Friends? Do you want to move to Alaska? How do you see the rest of your life playing out? At what point do you start living for yourself? Not for your revenge against the two people who brought you into this world or in penance for being an imperfect father and husband.” I walked around him, chasing his gaze. “Let yourself have this. Let yourself have me.”
