Page 61 of He
“Well, in all fairness, you did that with Jackson, too.”
“Oh, I suppose I did. I wonder why?”
“Because you’re a bossy bottom.”
I looked at her in surprise.
“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” she said. “I have other gay friends. I hear…things…”
“Point taken. Wait, what makes you think I’m a bottom?”
“Oren, that cannot be a serious question.”
With a chuckle, I said, “OK, I’ll concede that point as well.”
“OK. Next question. Do you love him?”
“Maybe.”
“But not like you loved Jackson?”
MJ knows me so well. Still, I was curious. “Why do you say that?”
“I’ve been around you and Jackson, and I’ve been around you and Rio…”
“And?” I prompted.
“Rio seems…enchanted by you. He exudes desire, an urge to merge with you, get under your skin even. Jackson wanted only to love and care for you. You wanted to succeed so you could give Jackson the world. I see a little of that with Rio—you seem to want to shelter him while at the same time surrendering yourselfto him. And that’s fine. It seems to make your relationship work.”
“You’re right,” I said. “I suppose I don’t love Rio like I loved Jackson. But see, here’s the thing, all our lives together, I could never imagine myself with anyonebutJackson.”
“And now?”
“Now, I know the onlyotherperson I could be with is Rio.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s Rio. Because I like who I am when I’m with him. Because he feels the same way.”
Saturday, October 19, 2019, St. Jude—Rio pulled back and his weight eased off me as he lowered my legs from his shoulders. Sex with him is always intense. But tonight, there was a kind of desperation in the way he made love to me—like he was searching for something he feared he’d lost. I thought about what MJ had said about him wanting to get under my skin. He flopped onto his back. I leaned over and kissed his nipple. “I’m gonna go hop in the shower,” I said.
When I returned to the bedroom, Rio was turned on his side, his back to my side of the bed. I spilled into bed, and inhaling his scent, I curled around him and kissed his back. He pulled away. “Something wrong? I asked, startled. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.
“I love our connection. I loveyou. I’m happy. In this house. Here. With. You—”
“But—”
“But what?”
“I don’t know, but I sensed a but coming.” He struggled to sit up and I knew his hip was hurting. I cleared my throat. “Are you still upset about that waiter?”
“He labeled us a couple,” he blurted.
“He did.Ididn’t. I’ve never asked you to label us…or yourself.”
“The fact is that wearea couple. And no matter how often I say I’m with you because you’re you and I’m me—the fact of the matter is I am in love with a man.”
I remained silent, whether from the shock of his admission or the depth of his unhappiness, I did not know. Watching me, he sighed and said, “I’m sorry. When I started this affair with you, I was curious. I thought it was a phase, a new adventure…”