Page 14

Silas

“Stay with me. Right here. Right now.” Elijah’s lips hover over mine and our noses rub together. “It’s safer here.” Kissing me, he presses a hand to my back to draw me closer and my tongue settles alongside his, our bodies rutting together desperately.

As much as I want to stay, a loud noise keeps coming between us and pulling me away. Elijah’s voice fades in and out. Aggravating and insistent, the blaring noise doesn’t stop and I eventually open my eyes to an almost dark room. I reach for my phone, shutting off my alarm while rubbing my aching eyes.

Looking around me, I feel the other side of the bed and it’s cold. Stacey hasn’t made it home yet. The blankets are tucked in on her side and there are no signs of her ever laying her head on the fluffed out pillow. Sitting up, I stretch out my back and check the time on the phone—eleven a.m.

I don’t remember when I fell asleep last night, only lying down and watching old videos of us on the TV. We were so happy and in love on the large screen, in our wedding clothes, constantly reaching for each other every chance we had. Who are those people and where did they go?

I went to sleep alone and woke up alone. Stacey never returned like she said she would. No missed calls or texts wait for me on my phone. None from her at least. Only my mom asking me if I’m still coming Sunday for dinner.

Where are you Stace? Never has she let me down before. Never has she broken a plan. Did I say the wrong thing in my sleep? Did she hear me call out for someone else and leave? No, she’d want to talk about it. She always wants to talk about everything.

Shaking off my thoughts, I say yes to my mom, turn on the side lamp, and grab the remote to shut off the blue screen on the TV, causing the room to become darker than before. Stacey bought black-out curtains to prevent too much sunlight from entering when she sleeps during the day. I hate how dark everything is when they’re closed, and it’s harder for me to distinguish the time of day. Having the day off work meant getting to laze around the house and do whatever I want, but the only thing I want to do is what I shouldn’t—go to Elijah’s store and kiss him again.

No. I can’t. That’s stupid and can’t be right. The dreams need to stop and so does this strange obsession with liking him close by. No more sleeping for me. I’ll stay awake as long as I can. Maybe the doctor really could help me. Maybe not. I won’t know unless I go. Hanging around here isn’t doing me any good, and going for a walk is only appealing when I think about doing it at the lake. Nowhere else sounds right. Tugging at my hair, I lie back in bed and squeeze my eyes shut. Elijah is stuck at the back of my mind, staring at me with dark, hungry eyes.

Suddenly I can feel his hands on me again, his lips on mine, his taste of chocolate and wine. The memory from yesterday is so vivid in my mind, I can’t help but relive it all over again. His cock was so hard against mine and the friction was amazing. Who knew dry humping another man could feel so fucking good? Would it feel the same a second time? I’ve known for years I was demisexual, but am I bi too? Or perhaps pan. I’ve heard a few different friends use the term before, but never considered it as my sexual orientation.

Not experiencing sexual attraction to strangers, and never allowing another person as close as I’ve allowed Stacey, are more than likely factors that led to me not figuring this revelation out sooner. I was mostly around Stacey, the friends I grew up with, and co-workers. Elijah is so different from all of them. Talking to Stacey can be hard sometimes, but not him. He appreciates books as much as me, somehow managing to talk me into trying something new when others never could, and he keeps reminding me how to smile without forcing myself. He also doesn’t try to tell me what I should and shouldn’t be doing. I don’t feel like I have to hold back and be on my best behavior around him.

He was himself, not who he thought I wanted him to be. Never did he pretend to enjoy something because I did. He hated the water, so if I wanted to talk to him more I had to meet him halfway. Stacey made everything too easy for me, causing me to feel so helpless and invalidated at times.

And his mouth. Fuck, his mouth. Ferocious and warm. The perfect combination of rough and soft. His hands were so needy and explorative. Sliding my pajama pants and underwear down a little, I wrap my fingers around my cock, stroking and tugging until I’m panting heavily with my head falling back.

Imagining his tongue is diving between my lips, I pretend my hand is his and buck my hips, fucking into his palm. Warmth travels down the center of my body, spreading along my groin, and my toes curl as I come hard. My legs tremble and my head spins. I haven’t gotten off in so long, too scared my heart wouldn’t be able to handle it. Stacey was always so gentle, constantly slowing down and stopping when my breathing got too heavy. It never felt this good. In movies I sometimes watched, there was so much passion, desperation, and fireworks.

I was beginning to think it was fake. That was until Elijah kissed me yesterday. If those people had never showed up would either of us have been able to stop?

Opening my eyes, I glance down at the mess on my shirt and hand. Guilt strikes me hard, feeling like a heavy blow to the chest. It’s been almost a year since I last had sex with my wife, and when I finally do get off it’s alone, to memories I share with someone else—a man. Her fucking boss too. How twisted am I?

Getting up from the bed, I strip out of my clothes and hop in the shower to wash off. I don’t stay long under the warm water this time, rinsing off as I soap up my body and hair. After dressing in a pair of jeans and a short-sleeve button down, I sit outside with a cup of tea in my hand, rocking in the old wooden swing only I ever use.

“You know I hate things that rock, and don’t like sitting outside long. Too many bugs,” I remember Stacey saying when I asked a friend to help me install it.

One of the visions I had for myself for the future was drinking coffee on the front or back patio and sitting next to the person I love. Another was watching sunsets together. Stacey’s face glitches whenever I try to place her anywhere next to me now. I think about Elijah sitting with me instead, and can see his smile so clearly as he looks up at the sky.

Squeezing my fingers around my cup, I press my feet to the ground, shaking my head. He doesn’t belong in my future. He doesn’t belong anywhere near me. No way he really wants me anyway. He recently lost his husband and my marriage is struggling. I feel like I’ve lost way more than my heart. Did they give me someone else’s brain too?

We sought comfort in one another. That’s all.

My phone rings and a lump forms in my throat when I see Stacey’s name on the screen. Answering the call, I walk inside and place my empty cup in the sink.

“Silas?”

“Where are you? Did you even come home?”

“No,” she says, her voice shaky. She sounds exhausted. “I had to stay later than expected. I’m sorry, babe. I ended up sleeping in my car for a few hours in between shifts. I’m visiting my sister and then I’ll be home.”

“You need to rest some more. A nap in your car isn’t going to do it.”

“Oh, so now you’re worrying about me?”

Huffing out a breath, I move the phone to my other ear. “I always worry about you. Maybe I’m not as vocal about it as you are but I like knowing you’re okay too.”

“I am. I promise. I’ll nap again at Lisa’s before the long drive back home. Should be home in time for dinner so order something good for us to eat.”

Sighing, I sit in one of the chairs at the table. “Pizza or Chinese?”

“Hmmm. Chinese. Orange chicken and fried rice.”

“That’s what I was gonna get.”

“Good. It’ll keep you out of my food. You know I’m not one for sharing,” she says between laughs.

“Oh, I’m aware. Doesn’t stop me from trying though.”

She laughs again and lets out a yawn. “I’ll call you when I’m on my way home.”

“Sounds good. Have a good time.”

“Love you, see you later,” she says almost too fast.

“Love you too.” I hear a man say her name before the call ends. Weird. Lisa isn’t married and lives alone. Maybe a neighbor? Or another friend?

Not wanting to imagine the worst, I clean the house to keep my mind busy. When everything is spotless, I go over it again and reorganize the drawers. This sudden burst of energy has me more on edge and nothing I do wavers it. Not the movie I watch, the walk I take around the block, or the book I read. Unable to take the restlessness inside any longer, I grab my keys and drive to the bookstore. The words “The Drunk Librarian” are lit up on the sign. Elijah is inside organizing books, and only two other people are in the store with him. Both are shopping, with only one holding a glass of wine. Staying in the car, I watch him, gripping the door to keep from opening it. I duck when he shoots a glance my way. Did he see me? My windows are tinted and he might’ve been looking somewhere else.

Slowly sitting up, I look toward the store and he’s nowhere in view. Good. Sighing in relief, I reach for my phone and place an order online at one of Stacey’s favorite restaurants. A knock at the window has me jumping in my seat as I’m finishing up. Elijah tilts his head, gesturing for me to roll down the window. I shake my head.

His forehead wrinkles and he attempts to open the door before knocking on the glass again. “Open the door,” he mouths.

Taking a deep breath, I unlock the door and he yanks it open. “What are you doing here?”

“I . . . I don’t know,” I rasp out.

“You sure about that?”

Shaking my head, I swallow down the thickness in my throat. “I don’t know,” I say again.

Stepping closer, he places a hand on my cheek. “You rushed away from me at the lake yesterday and now you’re parked outside my store. I’m going to ask again. What are you doing here?”

“I . . . It’s stupid,” I say.

“Try me.”

“I wanted . . .” I lick my lips looking everywhere but him.

“Yes?” He tugs at my face, forcing my eyes to meet his. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to see if kissing you again would feel as good as the first time.”

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat and his face inches closer. “Always so damn honest. Is that all?”

“Yeah.”

He releases a shuddered breath. “What are you waiting for then?”

“For it to not be wrong.”

He breathes out a rough sigh. “Meanwhile I’m waiting for it to feel wrong. Maybe you can help me with that.”

“And maybe you can make me realize how much I actually hate it and we can both help each other.”

“Only one way to find out.” He seals his lips over mine before I can respond again, pulling all the air from my lungs and thrusting his tongue into my mouth. Tugging at his hair, I intensify the kiss, needing it to last as long as it did yesterday. Arousal spirals in my lower stomach and I grab at his shirt, my ravishing tongue moving in rhythm with his until a honking car has us pulling apart.

“Get out of the road, asshole,” some man shouts out his window.

Sliding a hand through his hair, Elijah takes a step back, his eyes wild and glazed over. “Did that work in your favor?”

“No.”

He shakes his head, looking around him. “Mine either. I guess we better try again.” He rushes toward me, grabbing the collar of my shirt but I shove him away. “I have to go home. Stacey will be there soon.”

“Right. Stacey. Your wife.” His jaw tightens.

“Yeah. My wife. I should never have come here.”

He rests a hand on the top of my car. “No, but you did anyway, and I’m glad you did.”

“Don’t be. We can’t hang out anymore. If Stacey ever found out what I did, it would break her. I can’t hurt her.”

“No. Of course not. Go home to your wife. She needs you there, not here.”

Nodding, I close the door and we stare at each other for a little while before I finally pull away. I think about him standing there, watching me, until I reach the restaurant, and again while I drive home. Stacey isn’t home when I walk inside and she still isn’t home once I’ve set the table either. An hour goes by of me sitting in the kitchen alone, eating my third fortune cookie and drinking my second glass of sweet tea. More time passes and when I call Stacey, her phone goes straight to voicemail. What the hell?

I call her sister next and she tells me she hasn’t seen Stacey in over a week. My heart drops.

“We don’t lie to each other. ” Her voice pops into my head.

Looks like we do now. The front door opens and I whip my head around.

“Silas?”

“In the kitchen,” I call out.

“Hey.” She enters the kitchen, setting her bag on the counter.

“Hey. You’re finally home.”

“Yeah, I’m so sorry, lover. I know I’m super late.”

“Where were you? Everything okay with your sister?” I ask, wondering what lie will come from her mouth next.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine. Just overslept.”

“I guess you really needed the sleep then.”

She walks closer to the table. “Yeah. Have you eaten yet?”

“No. I can heat up the food and we can still have a late dinner.”

“Yeah.” She nods, sitting down in one of the empty chairs across from me. “I’d like that.”

“So how was Lisa?” I ask, standing up with two plates in my hands.

“Good. The new puppy is getting bigger every time I see him.”

“I bet. I should tag along with you next time.” I set her plate in the microwave first while placing mine on the stovetop.

“Yeah.” Her gaze drifts away from me. Liar.

The microwave beeps a minute later. “Why are you lying to me?” I pull the food out and slam the microwave door shut.

“What?” Her eyes bulge and her face goes stark white.

“Your sister said she hasn’t seen you in over a week. Where were you really?”

She shifts in her chair, scrubbing a hand over her face. “I’m sorry, Silas. I didn’t want to lie to you.”

“Is there someone else?”

Her brows rise. “Of course not,” she shouts. “I went to a hotel to sleep.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah. It’s been hard being home. Things are so different and I don’t know how to be here anymore. I didn’t plan on sleeping so long. Only napping.”

“You went there to get away from me?”

“It’s not . . . It’s not about me trying to get away from you. Only this.” She gestures around her, waving her hands in the air. “All the tension. How you never look at me anymore. How you never touch me or do all the things you used to. It’s hard to be around, okay?”

Frowning, I set her food on the table. “I’m sorry. I am. I’ll try harder.”

“That’s the thing. You never had to before. Neither of us did. Look, I don’t want to fight. Let’s just have dinner, okay?”

“Yeah.” I nod, pulling out a chair. “Let’s eat.” I eat my food cold and she barely touches her plate. She wanted to get away from me, and I try every day to get away from the life we’ve built together.

What does that mean for us? Where do we go from here? We were everything to each other once. Can we ever be that again? Do I want to be? Before, I was sure I wanted that, and now I’m not.

Either I was too sick to see things clearly before, or gaining a new heart really did change everything. We both ran to each other once and now we’re running in opposite directions. I do want to be here for her but I also want to be there with him, for me. My stomach twists and knots. If I was going to come back broken and so detached, why did I have to survive the surgery? Am I being punished for wanting a new heart so badly? Is getting everything you want supposed to destroy you in the process?

“Ready for bed?” She interrupts my thoughts, standing up from her chair and collecting our empty plates. “Or do you want to watch a movie?”

“We can do whatever.”

“We can watch a movie in bed, and if we happen to both fall asleep during it then we do. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds great.” Forcing a smile, I wipe down the table while she washes the dishes. We warm up popcorn, turn off all the lights, and dress comfortably before snuggling close under the covers. Halfway through the movie, she falls asleep with her face nudged into my neck and I turn to face her, sweeping fallen hair from her eyes.

I want to want this again. I need to want this again. A husband should want his wife. Wrapping my arm around her, I drag her closer and she releases a soft sigh, pressing herself tightly to me. My eyes wet with tears and I close them, breathing her in, wanting her smell to remain in my nose instead of his.

His scent is too strong and I can’t be rid of it no matter how much I try. I wanted a new heart for the both of us. To have a chance at living and to give her more time with the man she loves. Nothing about my new want benefits her in any way. What good does it even do me?

As I start to drift off, I jolt myself awake. Opening my eyes, I stare down at the woman in my arms. Staying awake will keep me with her, but if I fall asleep I’ll be in his bed instead, waking up with him as my last memory. I can’t control everything but maybe I can control this.

“Stay with me,” I remember her saying, when I was so close to dying.

I’m trying, but she’s right—it shouldn’t be this hard.