Page 17

Chapter Seventeen

Theodore

“You look like shit, Theo.”

“Thanks,” I mutter, frowning at Marianne. She’s never been known for being subtle.

“Are you getting sick or something?”

“No, I didn’t sleep well.”

The lie comes too easily. I’ve never lied to her before. At least, not about anything other than the dreams I have and the fact I might be gay, but none of that counts.

“Maybe you should take a nap.”

“That’s probably a good idea.” I grab a bottle of water from my fridge, downing half of it.

“Can I give you your surprise first?” She beams at me, and I nod, feeling awful that whatever she gives me probably won’t mean a damn thing.

Of course I can’t say that. Maybe I should just tell her about the stuff going on with me.

She’d understand. Marianne is a very understanding person, despite her family.

But there’s always the chance that she freaks out …

She hurries over to her purse that’s on my couch, digs through it and pulls out an envelope that she hands me. I give her a curious look before flipping it open and pulling out some photos. My eyes widen when I see what they are.

“Wow…” I breathe out, going through them.

“You like them?” she asks, bouncing on her feet.

“These are beautiful.”

I flip through to the last photo of Marianne in a black one-piece lingerie. Her hair is curled and lips done in blood red. She looks hot as hell; there’s no denying that. If only my dick would respond…

How can my mind know she’s hot, but my dick not care? Does that even make sense?

“Beautiful? Really, that’s what you go with?” Her disappointment settles around me like a noxious fog. What’s wrong with being beautiful?

“You look hot, Marianne.” I lean in to kiss her because that’s what I’m supposed to do. It’s a habit at this point.

She smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I hurt her feelings. I don’t know what she’s expecting of me. These photos are professionally done, and they are beautiful. Did she want me to drop my pants right here and jerk off over them?

“I was hoping we could get some done together,” she says carefully.

“Together? Why?”

She frowns and says, “Because it was fun, and I think it would be nice to have. ”

“Have for what? It’s not like we can hang them around the house.”

Her hand goes to her hip, and she glares at me. “We could get some tasteful ones done that would look nice on the wall.”

“No way,” I say with a disbelieving laugh, but she’s completely serious. “My mother would have a heart attack if she walked into our house and saw this.”

“Well, my mother is on board with it.”

“Well, your mother isn’t my mother, Marianne,” I argue.

Her mother is more progressive than mine, and she knows this. I appreciate her being okay with having something like this in the house, but it won’t work. My mother would faint.

“Theo,” she whines. “I really want to get them done with you.”

I sigh, putting my arm around her shoulder and pulling her in for a hug. “Fine, but we can’t hang them on the wall. At least outside of our bedroom.”

She bounces up and down, kissing my cheek. “I’m so excited! I’m going to call the girl to book the appointment right now.”

Guess I’m not going to tell her my secrets today. Why the hell do I keep burying myself deeper?

I drop onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Marianne has been bugging me to stay at her house because I haven’t in a few weeks.

I’m not sure how much longer I can pull this off before she starts getting mad.

I used to spend a lot of time at her place because I needed to get used to life with her, needed to have sex with her so I could realize it isn’t all that bad.

And though it wasn’t, it still wasn’t right.

After meeting Tobias, after he showed me that bar and introduced me to his friends, it’s harder to pretend. Look at all those people living a perfectly happy life out in the open with their sexuality.

Though, if that’s the kind of life I want to live, I should make peace with the fact I’m gay.

Or at least bi. I guess bi would make more sense…

This is just a hard thing to wrap my head around.

I’m not sure how to begin processing something like this.

Putting on this mask and pretending with Marianne is getting harder by the day, so I should figure it out.

Doesn’t my happiness matter?

Of course it does. At the cost of my family business, my trust fund, my family , and Marianne.

At the end of the day, she’s still my friend.

We’ve known each other our whole lives. How do I give this all up for something else?

Something the complete opposite? For a life I have no idea how to live? What will I do? How will I survive?

I guess there’s the off chance my parents won’t disown me, but that’s highly unlikely.

I don’t even think it’ll be my sexuality that does it.

They're the type that would research lavender marriages and give me a full packet on it. My sexuality isn't the issue here. Not having a tie to the Dumonte’s is what’ll do me in.

Why that should even matter, I have no idea.

They’re still friends, so what do they need a marriage for?

I could never have a lavender marriage, but I feel like that's the direction I'm heading if I don't figure something out.

With a sigh, I grab my phone from the end table to check the time. It’s ten, so I’m sure Tobias is awake. It’s after I send him a text, just saying hey, I consider he could be on a date and I’m bothering him.

Hey. How’s it going?

I try not to think too much into the text. It sounds too polite. Too… stuffy.

Not bad. You?

Just got home.

From a date?

Yeah. It was kind of fun, actually.

I hate that. Like, a lot. I have no claim over this man, but I hate that he’s having fun on dates with other people. Especially after the two dates I had with him were kind of lame. I did nothing creative or fun. All the fun came from him taking me out after.

I’m a boring fucking person. What a shitty realization.

Do you think I’m boring ?

I don’t know why I ask him. I trust his judgment, I guess, but also, he’s probably just going to lie to me to make me feel better. He’s nice like that. Though, he’s been blunt with me before, so maybe he’ll tell me the truth.

No?

Sorry. I’m just having a rough day.

And I can’t stop thinking about that kiss…

Tell me about it. What’s going on?

Just trying to figure my life out. How did you do it?

Figure my life out?

Yeah.

The fact you think I have my life together is laughable.

I roll my eyes, then type out another text.

You have two jobs. A house. You have fun all the time.

Yeah, if that’s important to you, then I guess it could be considered “figured out.”

You’re not happy?

I think back to last night, and the way his face changed when his friend brought up his ex.

Brandon. So, he’s tried the serious thing before.

It didn’t work out. Is that why he only dates people professionally now?

Why he says he doesn’t want to settle down?

Did Brandon ruin him? Or was it not something so awful?

Did he just realize that life isn’t for him?

No, that doesn’t seem right. That look on his face…

he was hurt by Brandon. Maybe even betrayed.

This Brandon guy did a number on him and now he’s living with the trauma of it.

It’s written all over him, if you look close enough.

It makes me want to give him a hug and tell him that I’ll never hurt him, but that’s creepy since we’re only friends and barely know each other.

We’re supposed to be talking about you.

With a sigh, I explain everything. The only way I’m going to figure this out is if I’m honest. It’s easier being honest with Tobias than it is myself.

So I tell him that I’m more confused than ever.

I don’t know what to do. How do I decide if it’s worth it?

Will the struggle of surviving be worth being true to myself?

A lot of poor people are very happy.

But I don’t want to be poor.

So get a job. There are plenty of them.

I don’t have experience doing anything.

There are options. Like going to school.

How would I pay for that?

I stare at my phone, waiting for a response but it doesn’t come.

Maybe he fell asleep. Getting out of bed, I head into the bathroom to take a shower.

Maybe the hot water will relax me enough to help me sleep.

My mind is on overdrive tonight, and I feel like getting to sleep is going to be hell.

When I’m done, I shove on a pair of sweatpants and get back into bed.

It’s nearly eleven now. My phone lights up, and I grab it, finding a text from Tobias.

You wanna grab some food?

yws

I don’t realize the typo until after I’ve sent it, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. That’s what I get for responding so damn quickly. I hop out of bed and scramble to get dressed. I don’t care where we’re getting food from, I just want to see him.