This Crazy Love: A Gay Romance Collection

Chapter 1-2

“Trevor?” Kyle asked quietly. I remembered that he had asked me a question.

“Two weeks after the funeral,” I said quietly.

“Oh, honey, why didn’t you tell us?” Ersan asked me.

“What’s the point?” I asked flatly, shrugging.

They wanted me to stay with them, but I declined, so they (not subtly) invited themselves over to my house. They didn’t want me to be alone, they said. They worried about me. I couldn’t really understand it, to be honest. Other than a little crying episode and punching Keifer, I was really the same as I had been for the past six months. I told them as much, and they both looked at me like I had three heads.

“Hon, that’s why we’re worried about you,” Ersan said finally, in the same way he would have explained something to a small child.

“Well, I’m not crying now, so I’m fine. You guys don’t need to stay,” I said. Truthfully, I felt very close to tears but I wasn’t going to admit that. And I definitely didn’t want them to stay.

“That’s the thing, Trevor. I think we’d feel better if you were crying,” Kyle said gently. “When was the last time you cried?”

I shrugged. They last time I had cried had been two weeks after the funeral. I had read the journals, cried, and then that was that.

“Have you even cried since the funeral? I mean, common Trevor, it’s okay to be sad about this.”

“I’m fine.”

“Trevor, seriously,” Ersan jumped in. “You don’t do anything. You don’t cry, you don’t go out. You’ve removed yourself from your friends. You sit around and eat dinner in front of the TV, which you don’t even bother to turn on half the time. You told me that yourself! You sit here in the dark, and you don’t do anything. You need to let yourself feel. Or do you really want to be a zombie forever?”

Fuck. He sunk my battleship. I felt my face crumble at Ersan’s words, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I sat down heavily on my couch, before either of them noticed I was crying, and tried to calm down. Failed at that. I felt the couch sag as they sat down on either side of me, and they were rubbing my back, smoothing my hair, kissing my cheeks, and telling me everything was going to be okay. It was actually kind of nice.

I woke up in my own bed, with my head pressed against a hard chest and an arm thrown over my waist. I was curled up against a man. My head throbbed, but who knows if that was from the alcohol or the hour of crying the night before. I was disoriented, and could not for the life of me figure out what the hell was going on. Then it came back -- the crying, the blubbering as I told them about the journals and all of the affairs, more crying. I remember I whimpered when one of them took their arms away. I remember falling asleep in their arms, on the couch, before they woke me up to get me into my own bed.

“Morning,” Ersan said sleepily. “How are you feeling?”

“Like my brains are trying to escape from my skull,” I growled as I pulled away. My head swam as I sat up.

“Crying hangover,” Ersan said simply. “I’ll get you some aspirin.”

I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and slipped on my old flannel robe. I was kind of embarrassed that I had been sleeping only in my boxers and curled up next to my friends. Other than an occasional swim party at a friend’s house, I don’t wander around without a shirt on. I wasn’t sure how I ended up in my boxers, but it was entirely possible I had shucked my clothes off at some point in the night. If that was the case, I was grateful I hadn’t shucked off my boxers as well -- I usually sleep naked.

Kyle was up and leafing through a journal. I felt a rush of cold in my veins at the sight of the journal, but I didn’t really care that he was reading it. He looked surprised that I was up, and a bit bashful to have been caught with it in his hands. He opened his mouth to say something, probably apologize, but I cut him off.

“I don’t care that you’re reading it.”

Shutting his mouth, he nodded, just as Ersan swept out of my kitchen with a glass of water and a bottle of Excedrin.

“Oh, you’re up. Want me to make you breakfast?”

I let him. I sat at my kitchen table and watched him make his way around the kitchen. He made French toast for all of us. It dawned on me that I missed having someone around.

“So how are you feeling?” Kyle asked. He was giving me a weird look that I didn’t know how to take. It was like he wanted to say something, but didn’t know how to go about it. I shrugged.

“Thanks for everything,” I mumbled before taking a huge bite of French toast. Ersan grinned and patted my arm. Kyle just nodded. As I looked up, I saw Kyle shoot a glance at Ersan. Curious.

“Sorry I’ve been acting so...” I started to say after we had cleared the dishes. I was filling the sink up with water, and I didn’t know how to finish. “Weird. Off. I’m sorry I never said anything to you guys. I just... I guess I didn’t know what to say. I just felt so... I don’t know. Confused. Hurt. Or something. I don’t know. Hell. One of you say something, will you?”

They didn’t get a chance, because the doorbell rang. I dried off my hands and went to answer it. Stupidly, I opened it without looking first, and found a forlorn and bruised Keifer on my doorstep. I froze. I stared. He stared. He looked like he was about to cry. Dimly, I noticed it was cold. Late October and the weather was just starting to catch on to that.

“Trevor,” Keifer started carefully, flinching a little. He was probably afraid I was going to hit him. “I just wanted to come by... and apologize. Again. I --”

“What do you want?” Ersan hissed from behind me. Ersan did pissed better than I did, that’s for sure. The icy hostility made me a bit envious; I wish I could pull that off.

“I wanted to say --”

“f**k what you have to say! Why are you here? So you can make yourself feel better? Well, I’ve got news for you! You’re not spilling your guts just to feel better about yourself, while in the meantime making Trevor feel like s**t! It’s not going to happen. You just let it stew; you live with yourself, and don’t come around here trying to beg forgiveness!”

Oh, the sweet venom. I really do love Ersan. He was standing up for me when I wouldn’t, and... it just felt nice. At the same time, the look on Keifer’s face was almost more than I could take. That fucker, I wanted to give him a hug to make him feel better, even though he didn’t deserve it. I wanted to comfort him. Keifer has always had that effect on me, and it dismayed me to realize that he still did.

“Hey, wait!” Kyle said, pulling Ersan back. “Keifer, wait. I think you should come in.”

Keifer had turned to go, head down, looking every bit a kicked dog. Which was exactly what he was, I tried to remind myself. That rat bastard had f****d my boyfriend of nine years, even though we’d been friends for nearly as long. He had f****d my pudgy, balding boyfriend. I had to repeat it, because I felt myself weakening. How could I forgive that?

Ersan and I had both turned to give Kyle a look that probably should have struck him dead on the spot. What the hell was Kyle doing? And why was he doing it to me?

“What’s the point?” I finally growled at him.

“Because I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Kyle said gently. “Seriously, just hear me out, okay? I really think you should listen to me.”

I glared and crossed my arms, but I stepped back from the door. Ersan followed my lead. Keifer walked gingerly through the door, shooting a look at Kyle. He didn’t look entirely grateful, more like mildly confused. Kyle led us into the kitchen and told us all to sit down. I suddenly dawned on me that Kyle was a counselor; he did this stuff all the time. It made me feel slightly better. Slightly.

“Trevor,” Kyle started, “As you know, I’ve been... reading. I’m just curious... how well did you read it?”

I know the infamous It that he referred to. In fact, it was permanently etched in my brain: the moment I realized that my best friend had an affair with my lover. I recited the journal entry in question, verbatim. Keifer inhaled sharply.

“That’s all?” Kyle prodded gently.

“Isn’t that enough?” I said. Moaned, really, I’m ashamed to admit. I was about to cry again. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. Seriously? Again? I’m not the crying type, really, but the past 24 hours seemed to have been filled with the water works.

“There was more,” Kyle said. I put one hand over my eyes and shook my head furiously. I did not want to know more. And Kyle? What a quack. How was doing that going to help me?

“I -- I didn’t --” Keifer sputtered, but he failed to get anything out.

“He didn’t have an affair with Marcus, Trevor,” Kyle said flatly.

“Then what the hell was he talking about?” I snapped, the tears safely at bay, for the moment.

“I knew Marcus was having an affair,” Keifer blurted out. “I knew, and I didn’t tell you.”

“What?” I asked, perplexed. This was not quite what I expected.

“I knew. I saw him out, once, in December. I confronted him...” Keifer trailed off.

“What?” I asked again. I felt dizzy. For almost six months I had avoided all of my friends. I had believed my best friend, Keifer, had slept with Marcus. Six months. And I had been wrong?

“It’s in the journal,” Kyle said quietly. I just stared at him, so he continued, “I’m sorry, but it just sounded so... wrong. I mean, I know I haven’t known you guys that long, but it just didn’t sound like something Keifer would do.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Ersan snapped. Kyle flinched a little.

“I was going to. I wanted to talk to you first, though, before I brought it up,” Kyle said to Ersan, “And I wasn’t expecting Keifer to drop by.”

“Who?” I asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had followed Kyle’s confession. “Who was it?”

“Adam Lelland,” Keifer said quietly. One of Marcus’s poker buddies. I could have guessed it would have been that horse-faced asshole. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, Trevor.”

“Why didn’t you?” I asked coldly, though I really couldn’t muster any anger.

“I wanted to... like I said, I confronted Marcus about it. He said he was breaking it off, that I was wrong... and it was just after Christmas. I felt so bad, but I really thought he was telling the truth,” Keifer said, his voice watery.

“Breaking it off...” I repeated quietly, more to myself.

“He said he loved you, and that he was going to tell you. He said... he said he regretted it. I thought he really was going to tell you, Trevor, I did. I didn’t...” Keifer choked a bit, and finished in a whisper, “I didn’t know what to do.”

“You did what a lot of people probably would have done,” Ersan reMarcused quietly, thoughtfully.

“Well, he’s dead now, so I guess none of this really matters, now, does it?” I said without inflection. “I think I’m going to take a shower. Excuse me.”

I walked into the hall bathroom instead of the master bath. I’m not sure why, probably because it was closest, but I could hear them in the kitchen. Ersan apologized to Keifer for being rude, but Keifer understood, like always. It was probably his biggest downfall -- empathy and forgiveness. And then, they whispered. About me, I’m sure. I felt queasy. Maybe I’d be lucky and they would all leave while I was showering. Fat chance.

I thought about what had just happened. Compare knowing about an affair to actually having an affair. Suddenly, in comparison, that knowledge barely seemed like a problem. Was it a problem? I couldn’t figure it out. On one hand, he knew and didn’t tell me. Lie by omission. On the other hand, he thought Marcus would come clean. What would I have done in the same situation? Who knows? And once he figured out that Marcus wasn’t going to... well, how long do you wait? At what point is someone’s time up? How is that determined?