Keep Swimming (11 page)

Kyle shut the door behind himself and took a knee in front of Heath. “Hey, Heath, buddy. You’re okay. You’re good.”

“It hurts. I think it’s a panic attack or something.” He smacked his chest again, but Kyle grabbed his hand and stilled it. Then with his other hand he reached up and wiped Heath’s cheek. When he pulled the hand away and it was wet he dried it on his pants leg.

“
Did Cary see something?” Kyle asked quietly.

“
I couldn’t think of how to get her to stop without outing myself. I was gonna tell her to get her drunk ass off me, but Cary came in and he’s so mad. I was hard… I mean… it was just a reaction but I’d never...”

Kyle grimaced sympathetically. “Cary break things off?”

“I think so,” he said miserably. Fuck, his chest hurt again, like he was empty in there and it was trying to cave in. He tried to bang on it again, but Kyle held his hand firmly and wiped Heath’s wet cheeks again.

“
Big guy, that’s your heart breaking.”

“
I didn’t know it hurt physically.” That wasn’t possible. Why did people write songs about this shit if it felt like hell? Who wanted to relive
this
over and over?

Kyle smiled gently. “There’s a lot about that particular organ you didn’t know until recently. I hate you had to find out the hard way.”

“Make it stop,” Heath pleaded.

Kyle sighed and shook his head sadly. “Nothing I can do.” There was a banging up on deck. “Shit. Look, Heath, I gotta make sure your crew gets somewhere. They’re so drunk I doubt they’ll know what’s going on. I’ll cover your ass with them. Best thing you can do is get a shower and get into bed. We’ll have to deal with this one thing at a time.”

Heath nodded, lamely. Kyle wrapped his arms around him and Heath couldn’t stop himself from clinging for a moment. This is not how it was supposed to go down. He'd tried to get her off him. He tried to do the right thing. How had this happened?

“
Shower then sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up,” Kyle said. Then he was gone. Heath fell back on the bed and closed his eyes tight, pleading for this to be a really bad dream, or some drunken hallucination. But then that vacuum feeling started in his chest again and all he could do was curl up at the foot of the bed and wait. Wait for it to stop feeling like that, wait to stop feeling anything at all. He’d been fine when he didn’t feel anything. Nothing wasn’t worth
this.
Was it?

Then he saw Cary’s face smiling, and Gus and Cary on the beach with him and goddammit. He cried. For the first time since he was probably ten years old Heath cried like a fucking baby.

“
Good morning, beautiful,” Celine said, voice wandering through the funk and the fuzz that was Cary waking up feeling like garbage. He groaned and rolled over, covering his head with the throw pillow. His head was killing him. Rolling over made his stomach lurch and that made him even more annoyed that he was awake in the first place.

“
Sit up, now. I have café,” she coaxed, using her gentlest, most maternal tones.

“
What time is it?”

“
It’s early yet. The tiny human is still sleeping, but I have to go to work and I wanted to check on you first. Now, up you get.” She patted his back gently.

He groaned again but rolled to sitting, throwing his legs over the side of the couch, where he’d slept the night before, fully dressed. He took the mug of coffee from her and sipped.
Yes!
So good. His stomach protested feebly but he needed the caffeine if she was waking him at six a.m.

“
How are you feeling?”

“
Horrible.” Wasn’t that an understatement? But the most all encompassing word for how he felt in general. His head was pounding, eyes were gritty, heart aching, and stomach nauseous. Very nauseous.

“
This is what you get for drinking yourself to sleep.”

Cary scrunched his face up and rolled his eyes unhappily at the mention of drinking. “I didn’t drink.” Her responding snort was disbelieving. “I didn’t,” he said fervently. "Honestly. But I did eat two pints of that stupid gelato you left over here.”

Celine sniffed delicately. “I would have preferred you’d drunk all my wine. That gelato is harder to find you silly goose.”

“
Me too,” Cary replied. “I’m pretty sure the sugar hangover is worse than a wine hangover. And at least I would have gotten more than an hour of sleep.”

Celine’s cold—her bony fingers were chronically chilly— gentle hand touched Cary’s head, stroking back his undoubtedly wild bed head, nearly making Cary’s stupid waterworks start up again. Then he realized with some oddly clinical distance from himself that there really wasn’t anything left in the well to pour out.

“Your face is doing strange things.”

He huffed an mirthless laugh. “I was actually just realizing I didn’t have any more crying to do.”

“Well, this is good, no?”

“
I suppose.” Cary gave her a strained smile, her compassionate gaze driving him crazy. “Hey, this is not the worst ever. And you warned me to be careful right?”

“
To say I’m not a bit surprised would be a lie. I thought maybe I’d been wrong, though. You seemed so nice together.”

“
Well, sometimes things just don’t work. Perhaps I’m just too insecure to be with a closet case.”

“
I’m just so very sorry.” Cary felt silly being comforted by this woman who’d lost the love of her life, an American photographer who was killed in South America while assisting with filming a documentary. His and Heath's breakup, one that seemed inevitable, was trivial compared to Celine's loss. It seemed trivial compared to many things they’d both been through over the years.

“
No sense losing my mind over it, right?” he asked. She seemed concerned as soon as the words left his mouth. “Really, I’ll be fine. At the end of the day I have to move on. I’ve got Gus and The Barkery and this was six months with someone who…” He couldn’t remember what he’d wanted to say, and he let his thought trail off.

“
You loved. Someone you loved.”

Cary flicked a startled gaze her way. She laughed and patted his head like a puppy. “You’re rather transparent, my friend. Can I ask a question?” Cary eyed her warily but nodded. “Could you have misunderstood the situation?”

Cary pinched the bridge of his nose. “At first, that’s what I thought I’d done. I just flipped out. But what else was I supposed to think? Her hand was right above his belt and he was…” He cleared his throat, a little embarrassed to be reliving the night.

“
Hard?”

“
Yes. God.” He jumped to standing and paced a couple times before she held out her hand. He sighed and took it, sitting back down beside her. “I was so pissed. Then I was even more pissed because I couldn’t out him to his crew. I couldn’t fight with him there. Then he followed me and when I asked how far he’d go…” That’d been the worst part. He’d wanted so badly to think this was just another one of Heath’s stumbles, one of those moments where one of them had just done something dumb that they could talk out. “He paused, Celine. He fucking
paused
. He didn’t know any more than I did how far he would have gone if it’d come down to fucking her to stay in the closet or outing himself in front of all those guys.”

“
Sounds like a difficult situation. For both of you. I, like you, do not think I would be able to forgive so easily. But maybe you should talk now you’ve had time to think more clearly?”

“
No,” he said, sadly. “This is just too much, you know? And he’s still got months to go before he can be out. I
do
understand his reasons. Being closeted was never the issue. But now, can I trust him? And really? When is enough enough? If it wasn’t one thing it was another. He freaked out because he liked me, didn’t call for a week; then any time I go to his yacht I risk getting surprised by someone he’s fucked, this time one of them pawing him and his hard-on.”

Celine furrowed her brow, patted his knee. “I cannot answer that. I understand, though. You have been burned badly once before. And that is… an untenable?” Cary laughed and confirmed the word would be appropriate. “An untenable situation. But do not forget the good times. Even if you do end this for good, remember how much he did care for you. Those will be better memories to have in your heart in the future. He reminded you that you
can
love again, even after Marshall and the heartache he left you with.”

“
You’re right.” He lay his head on her shoulder. “He’s a good guy. He was good to Gus, and that… that means the world.”

“
So what do you wish to do now?” she asked as she lay her cheek on top of his head.

“
Just… I want to get back to work. I’ve wallowed enough for one day. I just want to not think about it for a while. It’s permanently etched in my damn brain, seeing her touching him. I need to distract myself from that image”

“
And what would make you reconsider and forgive him?”

Cary leaned back on the couch and stared at the ceiling, counting the beams that criss-crossed there. What would make him reconsider? Could he? “I honestly can’t say. I get... I get that I need to work on how insecure I have been from the beginning about him being with women. I’ve always kind of known that was an irrational insecurity. Maybe some of me blowing up was this horrible week I had and confronting Marshall yesterday. But his pause, his being unsure of himself… Maybe if he came back after he’s completely out? But I don’t know if even then it’d be too little, too late.”

“Ah, it is never too late for love, chéri. But I understand by then this love may be water under the bridge. Maybe it has run its natural course, as they say.”

“
Yeah,” he sighed. Run its course. Sounded about right. Getting involved with someone who’d said himself that he was a bad bet should have told him the course would have been a short one to run.

“
Anyway,” he said, sitting up on the couch and downing the last of his coffee. He gave her a more genuine smile and bussed a kiss on her cheek as he stood. “I have got to get moving. I gotta get Gus ready and get to work in a few hours.”

She stood and hugged him tight. And here came those waterworks from that well he thought he’d cried dry. Crap. “Take care of yourself, Cary.” She pulled back and held him at arm's length. “You are a good man, as is he—even if you both are lost in your own ways. You will figure this out, one way or another.” They said fond farewells as he walked her out. She was right. Either way, he’d be okay. Today he could be sad, maybe even cry some more, but he would be okay.

****

“
You talk to him. He’s too busy pouting like a bitch for me to do any good,” Kyle said into his cell phone before tossing it next to Heath where he was still lying on his bed. He’d gotten up a few times, but always seemed to find himself back there. His chest didn’t hurt so much anymore, but that wasn’t necessarily good because now he was numb and he hated that almost as much as he hated the pain. He couldn't believe he had wished he would stop feeling anything at all. This sucked.

“
Pick up the phone, Heath,” Kyle said impatiently. Heath glared, but Kyle could play that game too and Heath just didn’t have the energy to keep at it.

He picked the phone and checked the screen to see who he’d be talking to.
Shit.
“Really, you sicced Becca on me?” He glowered at his best friend, who just shrugged and mumbled about desperate times.

“
I heard that,” Becca sniped loud enough for Heath to hear through the ear piece.

He put the phone to his ear. “I had no doubt. That was kinda the point.”

“Shut up, Heath. I did not take time out of my Friday with
my
boyfriend
—which I’m getting dirty looks over, thanks for that—for you to not listen to me.”

“
I thought that was one of the big no-nos.”

“
It is, obviously. Which is why I’m only going to be on here for thirty seconds. I’ve never held your hand before and I’m not gonna do it now. What you’re gonna do now is get out of that fucking bed, get it together, and listen to Kyle. The end.”

“
Why would I listen to him?” Heath teased, not knowing where his ability to tease was even coming from, him being in such a black mood.

“
Because he’s better at this stuff than either you or me, and you’d know that if you ever listened to him. That’s why I’m saying listen to him,” she said kindly.

“
Do
you
?”

“
More than you know.”

“
When did my exes start a club?”

“
Well, there’re enough of us cast-offs to start an alumni association, Heath.”

“
I hate you,” he grumbled.

“
Of course you do. Now I’m going to get laid. Goodbye.” With that, she disconnected. He was smiling now, though, so she’d obviously accomplished something. Kyle walked back in just in time to see Heath upright, having pushed himself to sitting.

“
Oh, good. She got you to move. That’s something, I guess.” Kyle tossed Heath a beer and bounced as he landed on the bed next to Heath with his own beer in hand. “So, buddy, I have to begin with, you’re a dumbass.”

“
Thanks,” Heath drawled, popping the top off his beer and drinking.

“
But we’ve been through that, so I’ll ask next, why in the hell did you let them come on the damn yacht?”

“
Because I’m a
dumbass
?”

“
Good answer, but I’m looking for a better explanation that that,” Kyle said, shoving Heath over so he could lean back against the headboard next to him.

“
They were drunk and fucking shit up in the parking lot. I figured you’d get here soon and it couldn’t hurt. Better than them getting arrested. They’re my crew, you know.”

“
Why didn’t you warn Cary?”

“
I tried to call him twice but it rang and rang.” Heath knew in hindsight a voicemail would have been smart. “I was so tired from traveling, and everything was just nuts. I was freaking out.”

“
And the girl? You hooked up with her before, right?”

“
I think that’s what made it worse. Maybe if it’d been someone random, but he recognized her before he even saw I had a hard-on. But Kyle, I really wasn’t going to do anything with Christy. I was shaken, didn’t know how to handle it, but I would never.”

“
I know,” Kyle said sincerely. “I think Cary knows that, too. But… okay, let me say; A: no one wants to be embarrassed like that in front of tons of people, especially when they want to queen the fuck out but have enough restrain not to out someone, namely you, B: no gay man wants to be left for or cheated on with a woman, it's just a fact, and C: nothing drives a gay man as bat shit crazy as dating a closet case. The pause, that’s what killed you.”

Heath chugged his beer, finishing the bottle off. “You think I don’t know that? All of that?”

“You guys have had a few bumps in the road, more than once, over those same issues. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be?”

“
Huh,” Heath grunted. Kyle chuckled and patted his shoulder before getting off the bed. He left the room and came back with another couple beers.

When they’d settled back with freshly opened bottles, Heath had to ask, “What do I do?”