Better Than Good (8 page)

“You remember the wedding is next weekend, right? Matt? Hello?”

“Uh, yeah. Next Saturday. Got it.” Smooth one, Matt. Now what do I do? End this Sunday or wait until after her friend’s wedding, which I’d promised I’d go to months ago, to break up? I couldn’t seem to win here.

“Did you get your tux cleaned? I can take it for you if you want. I know you’ve been so busy lately.” She paused when I didn’t answer. “I really miss you, Matt. It feels like forever since we’ve been able to spend any time together.”

Kristin’s voice was almost a whisper. She sounded sad. And worse yet, she sounded 100 percent sincere. Fuck.

“I know. Dinner Sunday sounds good.” That was the best I could manage. When she agreed and we set a time for me to pick her up, I noticed she once again didn’t seem bothered by any lack of real emotion from me.

I turned off my phone for the rest of the day and concentrated on writing my papers for school. I had a pretty decent night’s sleep and woke up feeling refreshed. I was also dying for some outdoor exercise. I thought of Aaron, as I did many times during any given day lately, as I laced up my running shoes. Where did he run? Maybe I’d see him? I purposefully hadn’t called or sent him a text since Thanksgiving. I wouldn’t let myself until I’d broken up with Kristin.

M
ONTROSE
P
ARK
was one of Georgetown’s best-kept secrets. It was part of the much larger Rock Creek Park, but it was not nearly as well known, which meant it was a great place for a quiet run relatively close by. In early December, most of the leaves had long since fallen. It was like a scenic wonderland in the middle of the nation’s capital. I hadn’t run in the park in a while, and I found myself looking forward to the peaceful atmosphere.

I had a full day of writing ahead of me, so I knew my run couldn’t be too long. I put my ear buds in, turned my music on, and jogged up Thirty-First Street toward the park. It felt invigorating and relaxing at the same time. I had decided I needed to do this more often when I noticed a familiar form jogging out of the Montrose Park main entry. I was fairly certain it was Aaron. He was with another man. Maybe his friend Jay? I didn’t think so, though. This guy looked older than Aaron by at least ten years. He was definitely fit, but he was shaved bald and had a Mr. Clean muscular physique. Was Aaron seeing this guy? He said he didn’t have a boyfriend, but of course that didn’t mean he didn’t go out with other men. Or maybe they’d just met and were a new item.

Aaron was dressed in tight black running pants and a black pullover with neon-green trim. His running shoes matched his jacket, which made me smile. He looked good. He didn’t seem winded at all, but his running partner looked a little sweaty. They had probably just finished a run in the park, and I guessed they were heading back toward the bridge.

I was overcome with curiosity. I kept my pace but adjusted my path to follow Aaron and his friend as discreetly as possible. If he saw me, I would feign surprise. Geez, now I was stalking. Was there no end to my idiocy?

They kept a steady pace down R Street toward the river, but then turned right onto Cambridge Place. I really couldn’t follow down this street without them noticing. It was a quiet residential street and it was still early morning. I would definitely be in more danger of Aaron noticing me. Plus feigning surprise at running into him most likely wouldn’t be believable. I was about to retrace my path back toward the park, as I had originally intended, when Aaron’s running partner stopped suddenly and Aaron came to a halt beside him. The older man gave a quick glance up and down the mostly deserted street before wrapping his hand around Aaron’s neck and drawing him in for a quick but passionate kiss. Aaron smiled when the man pulled away, then turned to jog up the street, leaving his partner to follow him.

I felt sick to my stomach, like I’d been punched straight on with no warning and no protection. Ridiculous, I know. I had no claims to Aaron whatsoever. If anything, I was just a creepy stalking voyeur. Chastising myself didn’t help me regain my calm, however. Truthfully, I felt betrayed too. Unreasonable, I know that, but I realized then and there, as I pushed myself running much faster than my normal pace, that I wanted him. I didn’t want to share him either. Since when does anyone get what he wants without working for it? I needed to figure out a plan.

Simply put, I wanted Aaron. This would suggest I was a bisexual man and not the heterosexual one my family, friends, and even acquaintances knew me to be. Whether or not Aaron would be interested in something more with me was still an unknown, but I could no longer deny that this feeling wasn’t going away anytime soon. My reaction to seeing him with another guy told me this loud and clear.

Back at home I could barely concentrate on writing the paper, and I’d used my workload to beg off from hanging out with my friends. They could tell something was up with me, but they left me alone. Each one of us had gone through the staggering stress of law school, work, and relationship bullshit. They probably sensed, correctly, that it was my turn. When I found myself in complete textbook overload, I picked up my guitar. Playing always calmed my nerves.

By the next day, I had gained a little perspective. I knew the first thing I had to do was be honest with Kristin and break things off. If she wanted me to go to the wedding still, I would. I had always considered Kristin a friend, and if possible, I wanted us to remain so. The next step was for me to concentrate on finals, work, and getting through the holidays. I wouldn’t try to contact Aaron until my finals were complete, thinking I could use the extra time to work out how I could approach him without sounding weird or desperate. This was new territory for me. For the first time ever, I wanted to pursue a man romantically.

I arrived to pick up Kristin at her place later that night for dinner. She opened her door wearing a giant smile and little else. I audibly gulped, I’m sure. She probably figured my reaction to be the opposite of what it truly was. Fuck. This was not going to be easy.

“Hi, gorgeous,” she purred. Not kidding, she sounded like a sex kitten. This was not Kristin. Nor was the getup. She was wearing a one-piece sexy black lacy number that pushed up her small breasts, giving them a rounded effect at the top. She had never once worn lingerie in the year we’d been dating. Something was up. The funny thing was that it wasn’t my cock. If I was having any second thoughts, seeing the usually conservative Kristin in a skimpy getup should have gotten the blood pumping. Instead, I was painfully uncomfortable with how I could now see the direction this evening was headed. Especially once I got a view of the table carefully set for two behind her, laid with her grandmother’s crystal wine glasses and china. Soft jazz music was playing from her speakers, setting a scene for seduction. Crap.

“Uh, wow, um, what’s all this?” I asked lamely as she flung herself at me, wrapping her small body around me. Her long honey-blonde hair was in my face, and I could smell the body oils and perfumes she must have recently applied.

“I’ve missed you, silly goose. Matt, we haven’t seen each other in forever. I really, really missed you.” The way she was grinding her body on me left no mistaking what she missed. I gently pulled out of her grasp and walked toward the table set with candlelight and roses. My head was pounding, and I was about as far from hungry as a guy could be without hanging over a porcelain bowl.

“Um, didn’t you want to go out for dinner?” My voice was weak and it was possible she didn’t even hear me.

“Well,” she said, coming to stand beside me at the table. She sounded a little cooler this time, maybe cluing in to my tepid response. “My roommates are out, and I thought we could take advantage of having the place to ourselves tonight.” She turned on a huskier-sounding tone than I was used to hearing from her. “We can play and then have dinner later. I’ll even serve you dinner in bed if you get hungry for food.”

I couldn’t speak or move. And when an uncomfortable minute of silence passed, she backed away from me and went into her bedroom. Shit, did she expect me to follow? I really didn’t think so. I knew that I could forget the whole thing by following her into her room and taking advantage of what she was so blatantly offering. Instead, I let the moment pass and gave her a weak smile when she came out covered in an old terrycloth bathrobe. She didn’t return the smile.

“What’s going on, Matt?” she asked coolly. She took a seat on the white slipcovered sofa, curling her legs underneath her body and hugging one of her bright floral pillows to her chest.

I took a deep breath. And then another to see if it would help, but it didn’t. I moved toward her and perched myself on the armchair across from her, still unable to look at her. I hated hurting her. I wished I could love her so none of this was necessary. But I didn’t love her. It wasn’t fair to keep up even a casual dating thing with her when my thoughts were constantly with someone else. Pretending everything was cool wasn’t working.

“I’m sorry.”

Kristin gasped. I looked up at her finally. Her eyes were huge and wet with unshed tears. I felt about two feet tall.

I tried again. “I’m sorry, Kristin. I can’t… I’m not…. Look, it’s not….”

“Are you really going to say it’s not you, it’s me? Oh my God. I can’t believe what a fucking idiot I am. I’m so embarrassed. Look at me. Just go… please, Matt. Please.” She was crying in earnest now.

Instinctively I went to her side. She let me hold her for a couple seconds before pushing me away.

“Did you meet someone else? Is that it? Or is it the wedding? You don’t have to go with me.” Her anger was quickly taking a strange turn, and I knew I needed to say what I had to say and retreat. I couldn’t make this right any other way. I was hurting someone I cared about, and it just couldn’t be helped.

“Kristin, as lame as it sounds, it isn’t you, it is me. I’m sorry. You deserve something I’m not. I really care for you. You are amazing. But honestly, I mean, look at the last few months… I’m way too wound up with school and work. I just can’t be a good boyfriend to you. I can’t do this. I don’t want to hurt you. I want us to be friends, if you’re okay with it. But I don’t… I don’t want the couple part.” I was rambling, but she was listening, which I took as a positive sign. “I am sorry.”

The silence was heavy, like wearing a winter coat in July.

“Can you go, please? I just need you to leave.” Tears were running down her face. I wanted to help, but I’d caused this. She was right, I should leave.

I stood up slowly and let myself out. I wondered if I’d feel lighter now that it was done. I didn’t. The guilt was crushing.

I made my way back to my apartment to find Curt on the sofa with a giant bowl of popcorn. The living room was dark, and an old black-and-white movie was on the big screen television.

“Oh, hi. I thought you were with Kristin tonight. I’m having ‘classic cinema night, party of one’”—Curt actually did use his air quotes—“or two. Wanna watch?”

I didn’t answer right away. I didn’t know what to do now. I guess beer, popcorn, and an old movie sounded okay.

“Sure. Sounds good. Wanna beer?”

“No. I’m not drinking a drop tonight. I am literally buried in work. My concentration was off so I decided to go mindless for the rest of the night. What happened with you? Did she take one look at your ugly shirt and send you home?” When I remained silent, Curt turned to look at me more closely. “Hey, you okay?”

Curt had become one of my closest friends since I’d moved to DC two years ago. He was funny in a self-deprecating way, quick-witted, super intelligent, and fiercely protective of those he cared about. I’d known he was gay all along. He wasn’t overtly gay in any way. He didn’t advertise, but he had been up front with all of us from the start. His mantra was “be honest about who you are and good things will come.” I knew he’d been out since his freshman year of college. Curt never spoke much about his relationship with his family, but he had tons of friends, gay and straight. His generosity of spirit drew people to him. I was grateful to be counted amongst his friends.

After the catastrophe I’d made of breaking up with Kristin, Curt’s company was appreciated.

“Did something happen with you and Kri—”

“We broke up,” I interrupted. I may as well get used to saying it. Everyone would be asking what happened.

Curt didn’t say a word. He pushed the popcorn bowl toward me, put his feet up on the coffee table, and turned the volume up on the movie.

“Aren’t you going to ask me about it?”

Curt paused the movie and turned to me. “Okay. What happened?”

I let out a long, tired sigh. “I just couldn’t do it anymore, ya know? Have you ever been with someone where you know you don’t want the same things? I started to dread her phone calls, and I just—”

Curt stopped me with a raised hand. “Matt. You don’t have to defend yourself. Sometimes when it’s over, it’s over. It’s not like you were married to her and you didn’t leave her for someone else… did you?” His eyes took on a look of intense scrutiny.

“No. There isn’t anyone else.” I had a painful sudden memory of Aaron being kissed by his running partner. The jealousy felt fresh and raw. Curt must have noticed a change in my expression, but I cut him off. “Really. There was someone I was interested in, but I think I need to figure some things out first, and just like you, I’m buried in work and school. I need a clear head.”

I don’t know why, but I could hear Aaron’s voice in my head saying, in that teasing lascivious voice he’d used the last night I was with him, “What you clearly need is head, honey.” I laughed out loud.

Curt looked concerned, as though he was afraid I was unraveling in front of him. I sought to reassure him, because honestly, I finally felt a little lighter. I would get through finals and the holiday and then see if maybe, maybe I had a chance at all with Aaron.

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