~*Chapter Sixteen*~
It was Friday, which meant a half-day with the kids in the morning, but they were gone now, and I was trying to decide what I should do with the rest of my day. It looked like it was going to rain, so it limited my decision. Maybe an afternoon on the computer was what I needed. Rainy day and porn, a perfect combination, I thought as I finished up the lunch dishes.
It had been two weeks since my evening with Jared, and I was wrong about our goodbye. True to his word, it hadn't happened again, but surprisingly, we'd become good friends, and we never had to share that uncomfortable, awkward post-hook-up conversation. It was Jared who called me the next day asking if I wanted to meet up with him and some friends for drinks. I hadn't expected his call, but he seemed to understand everything I was going through and everything I needed, especially from him. I needed a friend, and he said he was happy to fill that role. He also told me he'd never settle at being a second choice for anyone, not even me. I wanted to give him more, but we both knew I couldn't— at least not right now. I enjoyed his company and the company of his friends. My nights were filling up, and I was beginning to crave the rare evenings home alone. They were starting to become a luxury.
Still no word from Jasper and that feeling of being watched had disappeared as well, ever since the night I'd been at Alec's. I'd been thinking about what Alec had said, 'he'd surface when he wanted to,' but it was hard to ignore the fact that he'd abandoned everyone who loved him. I never listened to Alec. I did my own searching, but Jasper didn't want to be found. Of course I imagined the worst. It's what you do when you worry about somebody you love. He was a selfish bastard and more than anything I wanted to convince myself I was done caring.
The lunch dishes were finished and I was cleaning the rest of the apartment, knowing my dad was going to be here tomorrow before the game. I'd just sat down and turned the laptop on when I heard that dreaded knock on the door. Fuck! Does no one call anymore? I thought, as I walked to the hallway. I was getting a little tired of the unexpected visitors at my door. I peeked through the eyehole and caught my breath. I wasn't sure how much more my heart could take of these surprise visits... a little warning would have been nice. I couldn't see his face because his head was down and the collar from his jacket was up to protect himself from the wind, but I saw the ends of his hair sticking out from under his hat. He never wore ball caps, and I was surprised to see him wearing one.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, opening the door. My voice was surprisingly steady even though my legs were shaking while I stood in the doorway. My arms spread across the doorjamb, signaling this wasn't an open invitation to come in. I was relieved to see him, and a part of me wanted to embrace him fiercely knowing he was all right, but the other part of me was still incredibly pissed at him for what he'd put everyone through. I didn't give a shit what he did to me, but Alec didn't deserve any of it.
"I didn't know where else to go," he mumbled under his hat. He'd graduated from the hang-ups to the ambivalent drop-ins, and both were still annoying.
"Yeah? Well, fuck off and go back to Chicago. Your wife is looking for you," I said and slammed the door shut. Once I was safely behind it, my knees gave out and I stumbled against the wall. "Fuck!" I cursed with my hands over my face. He couldn't keep doing this to me, and I couldn't keep letting him.
I went to the cupboard and poured myself a drink. The glass hovered next to my lips while I tried to make the decision if I really wanted to drink it or not. It wouldn't solve anything, and it only meant that I was still weak when it came to him. I hated myself in that moment and threw the glass against the wall and it shattered, raining glass and whiskey all over the kitchen.
I went to the bedroom, leaving the mess and threw myself on to the bed. I tossed and turned while I thought of him and what it meant for him to show up on my doorstep. I didn't want him here. I had come to terms with who I was, and I couldn't go back to the pathetic fool I was just months ago. He was the only person who had the power to destroy everything I'd built in this new life. Eventually my mind quieted and I fell into a deep slumber.
The room was dark when I woke and there was a chill in the air. I was disoriented, having fallen asleep with my clothes on, but I caught a faint smell of whiskey and remembered what happened. Reluctantly, I rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom, threw some water on my face and noticed my bloodshot eyes. I really was pathetic.
"Get a grip, Cullen," I said into the mirror.
It was past dinnertime, I'd slept the better part of the day away. I saw it had rained while I was asleep, so I turned the heat up just to take the chill off, and grabbed the broom from the closet. The whiskey had dried, and it had taken a lot of time to clean up the mess, but I managed to avoid any disasters with the cut glass. I looked in the fridge to see what there was to eat, but I knew I couldn't eat. I wasn't hungry for food and grabbed a soda instead. The tab clicked open and my phone started ringing. I should have called Alec as soon as Jasper turned up on my doorstep, and it was more than likely him telling me as much. I glanced at the caller ID and groaned.
"Hello, Mrs. Potts," I answered.
"Edward, dear," she said. "Are you home? I see your living room light is on."
"Yes, I'm home. You called my home number," I said a little annoyed. "Did you need something?" She was a sweet, old lady, even though she was a busy body who knew everything going on in the building. I think she sat in front of her window and watched the courtyard as her own personal entertainment, like the tenants were characters in a TV show.
"No, no, I'm fine. I was just about to call the police, but I thought I'd check with you first. There's a man sitting outside your apartment. He's been sitting there all afternoon in the rain. I thought he was waiting for you, but when I saw your lights turn on..." She was rambling on about other stuff, but I tuned her out. I hadn't heard anything else she said, for my heart was in my throat. Jasper was still there.
She told me she had a gun if I needed it, which I assured her a gun wasn't needed... at least not at this time. I quickly thanked her and hung up the phone telling her I'd take care of it and not to worry.
It was early June, but for the past week the nights had been cold and with the rain even colder. He'd been sitting outside for a few hours. I threw open the door and found him sitting with his back against the brick wall and his arms wrapped around his knees. He was wet and blue and shivering.
"Come on, get inside. The neighbors are about to call the police." I helped him stand up, feeling his muscles strain through his jacketed arm. It unnerved me even more. He had trouble walking, his joints had seized up, but I sat him down in the chair and went to the kitchen to grab the whiskey bottle and a glass.
"Here. Drink this."
He accepted the drink with a grateful thank you and slowly sipped it. He gasped a little and choked. I wanted to say it... I wanted to joke like we usually did, but I couldn't.
Instead, I asked, "Why are you still here?"
His head was down and his teeth were still chattering. "I have nowhere to go," he managed to say. He gripped the glass tighter and I noticed his knuckles. There were cuts and bruises on every one of them. I couldn't stop myself from staring. His clothes were wet, but I could tell he'd been wearing them for a few days. There were some dark patches on his jeans that looked a lot like blood. He'd been in a fight... and a good one by the looks of it.
"You can't keep showing up like this. What if my kids were here?"
"I waited until I knew they were gone." He finally lifted his head to look at me and I went pale. The hat he was wearing was there to hide the bruises. He had a deep cut across his nose, and it looked like it might have been broken, but I couldn't be sure. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. His face was covered in patches of long uneven hair and with the bruising it made him seem rough, sick almost. He caught me staring at him and glanced away when our eyes met.
"What the fuck happened?" I asked with a sigh.
"It's nothing... I shouldn't have come." He started to get up and it looked like it was painful for him.
"Sit down," I said annoyed. "Did you go to the hospital?" He shook his head, 'no.' "I'll call my dad."
"Don't. I'm okay. Nothing's broken, maybe a few bruised ribs."
"How do you know?"
"I'm fine. Please don't call him." He looked up at me with pleading eyes.
I reached for my cell phone and started dialing before he could say anything further. "He's in the city this week. He's consulting on a case."
"Hey," I said into the phone.
"Edward, I was just going to call and see if you wanted dinner. I'm going to have to cancel on you tomorrow night so I wanted to make up for it. I've finished a day early here, but I was hoping to see you before I head back home."
"Umm..." I hesitated for a second and of course he picked up on it.
"What's happened? What's wrong?"
"Can you swing by my place? Bring your bag?"
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine... it's Jasper."
"I'll be right there. Hold tight." He disconnected the call and I gave a grim look to Jasper. I expected him to protest, but he didn't which made me think he was in more pain than he was admitting.
I relaxed back into the couch, knowing we'd have some time before my dad arrived. I was waiting for an explanation which it didn't seem like he was going to volunteer so I prompted him. "Why me? Out of everyone, why'd you come here?"
"I don't know."
"I'm just a fag, or did you forget that so soon?" His face turned a deeper shade of red under the bruising. I sighed. "Look, Jasper... I can't have you turning up on my doorstep like this whenever you're feeling guilty or confused... or when you're all fucked up."
"I know," he whispered.
"I'm gay, Jasper." It was the first time I'd said it aloud and it was exhilarating. I owned those words and I knew damn well he hadn't expected me to say that. "Do you understand that? I know who I am, do you?" I asked. He remained silent. "That's what I thought." I stood up. I didn't have anything else to say to him.
"It's different this time," he pleaded.
"Why should I believe you?"
"It just is," he said taking another sip of whisky.
"What happened to your face? Where've you been all this time?"
He fidgeted with the cuff of his shirt. His jeans were soaked through and his jacket had done nothing to keep his body dry. He was shivering, but I didn't think it was from his wet clothes.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"No, of course you don't," I said mocking him. "Your answer to everything."
"I fucked up, okay? I'm fucked up! You don't understand." He sat the whiskey down and put the palms of his hands to his eyes, wincing from the swelling around his nose.
"I do understand. It's Colonel Whitlock messing with your fucking head. What's so wrong? What's so wrong with being with me?" I went to my desk, pulling out the brown envelope. "Here," I said, throwing the photos at him.
He lowered his hands and stared at the envelope for a few breaths before carefully opening the flap. His hands were shaking as he lifted the pictures out. He started looking through them one by one, until he got to the series of photos where he was telling stories. He stopped, studying each photo with an intensity made up of compassion and confusion. We were both so quiet that when one single tear slipped from his eye and fell onto the photo with a 'plop' it seemed to echo around the room.
"What's so wrong with that?" I asked softly, sitting down across from him.
"I don't want to be this way anymore."
"Then what do you want, Jasper?" It was hard to see the man I'd loved all these years sitting in front of me a shell of his former self. I missed the cocky bastard who was my roommate, the confident one who was always so self-assured. This man in front of me was nothing of the man I knew. "I can't read your mind."
"I want to go back to the way things were."
I sighed again, frustrated by the circles we were going in. "We can't, you know that."
"No." He raised his face, letting me see his bloodshot eyes. "Back to that night in the alley. Back to the night I sat in your bedroom watching you sleep. Everything seemed simpler then. It was just you and me and there wasn't all this shit that's gotten in the way. No marriages, no wives, no kids... just you and me. If I'd just... if I'd just woken you up... there'd be none of this shit in the way!"
He closed his eyes again, and his hands were gripping his knees. "You asked me 'why.' Why I went through with it that night. And at the time, I didn't know. I really did think it would be enough. Just that one night, I wanted it to be enough." His teeth were chattering while his entire body convulsed. "But...it wasn't enough."
I leaned forward and placed my hand over his. He flinched, jumping away from my touch and I saw his face tense up as his eyes snapped open.
I dropped my hand and stood up... his reaction made my decision easy for me. "I can't take all this fucking wavering, Jasper. There's always going to be shit in the way. That's just the way life works. And we've got a lot of shit. I can't wait for you, only for you to tell me you can't do this again. If you won't even let me touch you behind closed doors when you're pouring your fucking heart out to me, then you've made it quite clear how you feel about the idea of us. I'm done, Jasper. You can sort yourself out, but I won't be a part of it. It's not fair to me."
He shivered again.
I picked up the glass from the table, letting him know the conversation was over. "You can wait until my dad gets here to check you out, but after that you need to leave, for good."
With perfect timing, my dad knocked on the door. I let him in and his face was filled with worry, just like I'd expected it to be.
"Hey, son," he said embracing me. He gave me a look that asked if I was all right and I nodded, throwing my head in the direction of the living room.
He took a deep breath and carried his medical bag into the living room.
"Well, let's see the damage," he said to Jasper, his tone was light but with an edge. He'd always liked Jasper. After our first year of College, Jasper spent the summer with us and the two of them bonded over chess, something I was never really in to. They spent quite a few summer nights over Bourbon and strategic plays. I remember being quite envious of their evenings together.
Jasper wouldn't raise his eyes to look at him, instead he continued to shiver in response.
My dad opened his bag, pulling out a light and knelt down beside him. "Can I get you to take your hat off?" he asked. Jasper reluctantly obliged and that was when we noticed the large lump on his forehead near his hairline.
"When did this happen? How long ago?" my dad asked him.
Jasper cleared his throat. "Last night... after midnight?"
"Any dizziness? Nausea?"
"A little after it happened."
"Do you know if you blacked out?"
"I don't think so... maybe."
"Were you drinking?"
Jasper looked from me to my dad. "Yes, sir."
My dad shone the light in Jasper's eyes and asked him to follow his finger. Jasper was now shaking uncontrollably and it was hard for my dad to continue. "Edward, will you get him some dry clothes? A towel and some thick blankets too."
Jasper started to protest as I left the room, stating he shouldn't even be here. My father's voice was firm when he spoke. "Sit down, son." I stood in the hallway, out of sight, and listened to the rest of the exchange. "I think you've caused enough trouble with my family, so you'll show me the courtesy and do as I say."
"Yesssir," Jasper mumbled.
I heard my dad ask him to remove his clothing and then I left the hallway to rifle through my closet looking for clothes. I settled on some sweats for him and wool socks. My arms were filled with blankets and clothing when I finally walked back into the room to find Jasper sitting on the arm of the couch in a pair of boxers and a white undershirt. He was hunched over and with the wet shirt it seemed like he was skin and bones. He wouldn't meet either of our eyes, and kept his head lowered. I placed the blankets and clothing on the coffee table and stepped back with my arms folded waiting for someone to say something. My dad straightened up and looked from me to Jasper and then put the pen light in his pocket.
"Edward, I'm going to need you to go to the hospital pharmacy and pick up some pills. I'll call it in so they'll be expecting you and you shouldn't have any trouble."
"Really?" I asked and I saw Jasper's shoulders tense. I definitely was not comfortable about leaving the two of them here on their own. I didn't want my dad talking with Jasper, asking questions I didn't want shared. "Don't you have something in your bag?"
"Not what I need, no. It won't take you long, and I should be finished up by the time you get back." He gave me a look that clearly told me it was an order, and from the tone in his voice, there was no arguing my way out of this one. I turned on my heel, biting my tongue and grabbed my jacket while I headed for the door. It was raining and windy and turning out to be a miserable night all around.
With the traffic and the rain and the hospital pharmacy not having the prescription ready, it had taken almost two hours to go there and back and I was extremely annoyed and frustrated.
"Hey," I said, wiping off the water droplets from my jacket and hung it up in the closet. My dad was sitting in the chair, nursing a Bourbon, and Jasper was nowhere to be seen.
"He's in your bedroom. I gave him something to sleep." I looked at the discarded tissues that covered the coffee table and he followed my eyes. "He's a little shaken up."
I held up the white paper bag and asked, "Does he need one of these?"
"No, you can save those for the kids," he said smiling.
"Wha—" I ripped open the bag and inside was a bottle of children's chewable vitamins.
"I called and asked them to throw the vitamins in a bag and seal it up. I might've asked them to take their time with it."
I felt my anger rising. "You made me go all the way down there for no fucking reason?"
"Watch your mouth," he said eyeing me. "And it was for a lot of reasons. One of which was to talk with him without you present." He gave me another smile and I could have sworn there was some cheek to it. I ignored him.
"Why? What did you say?"
"It's between him and me."
I stood in front of him towering over him while he sat in the chair. Even my imposing height wouldn't win me this battle, so I settled with the only question I knew he would answer. "Is he all right?"
"He might have had a concussion, it's hard to tell, but he seems fine now. His ribs are bruised, none broken luckily, same with his nose."
"So what happened?"
"I'm assuming a bar fight, but from the looks of the bruising, last night wasn't the first."
I collapsed into the chair, exhausted and fed up with everything. "Where's he been?"
"That... he wouldn't tell me."
I raised my eyebrows wondering exactly what they did talk about.
"I called your mother," he said, changing the subject. "She's worried of course, and wants to talk with you when you get a chance."
"You told her?" I asked. My tone was a little exasperated.
"Hey, your mother and I have no secrets."
"Great."
"I'll be heading back tonight. I'm sorry about cancelling on you for tomorrow, but from the looks of things you'll have your hands full."
"Oh, he's not staying."
"He needs to rest. He's exhausted, physically and emotionally."
"Fine. He can rest, but you said he's okay. So when he wakes up? He's gone. I don't want him here."
"That's your decision," he said and sipped his Bourbon, keeping his thoughts to himself. He always did this. He always left me to make my own decisions and never tried to sway me, but it only took that pause in his thoughts and I knew he didn't agree with me. It always bugged the shit out of me, because the majority of the time he was right... except this time.
"I've always liked him," he said. "That summer he stayed with us... I don't know, I just liked the kid. Do you remember that week we went to the cabin in Maine? It was like a family road trip. I think it was the first time your mother regretted not having any more children."
"I thought we drove her nuts?"
"You did, but she loved it all the same." He smiled and his eyes drifted off for a moment and then he laughed out loud. "God, do you remember the bear?"
I groaned and said, "Don't. Don't even go there." I threw a pillow at him.
"You two were staying in the guest house, and your mother and I were in the main cabin. We heard the two of you yelling like little school girls."
"It was at our door!"
"Your mother told me to make some kind of distraction to scare it away..."
"And then it went running to your porch. And if I recall, you screamed as well."
"That was your mother." I rolled my eyes and scoffed. He looked to the pile of blankets on the chair left from earlier. "You two and those ridiculous blankets."
"It was Jasper. He wanted to be the hero and save you two. He thought by wrapping ourselves up in the bedding it would make us look bigger, more imposing. Not to mention some kind of half-assed protection if the bear turned on us."
"I'll never forget your faces..." My dad was laughing and his eyes had started to tear. "When you two stepped outside, with your arms raised, wrapped in blankets and started yelling at the bear?"
"Yeah, well it wasn't so funny when the bear turned on us, was it? I bet you weren't laughing then."
"And then it reared up on its hind legs and growled? You two took off running for the lake, which wasn't really a lake because the water was so low that year, more like a muddy pond. I think you dove head first, blankets and all. Man, was your mother pissed at the two of you. All that bedding... It never did smell right even after countless washes. She had to throw them all out."
"She wouldn't even let us back in the cabin. Made us wash from a bucket outside. It was hours before she let us in and she didn't even care there was a huge ass bear waiting in the woods."
"It wasn't that big."
"It was big," I said, nodding my head.
"You were such skinny little kids back then, thinking you were invincible that nothing could touch you. It was quite a thing to see." He looked toward the window, lost for a moment in his thoughts. "The two of you hadn't even known each other a year, and yet there was something there back then, I guess neither of you knew what it was." He took one last sip of his Bourbon. The room was lit by a lamp in the corner behind him and it cast a shadow on his face. He leaned forward to set the glass down and his expression was clear. This was one time he was going to offer his advice and tell me I was wrong.
"You're my son, Edward, and I stand behind your decisions, but I think you need to hear him out. There's more than just a history between the two of you..." His eyes glanced to the table, and underneath the tissues was the brown envelope that held the pictures. My stomach sank, I'd forgotten to put them away. He watched me, knowing exactly what I was thinking. He could read me like a book.
"I snooped," he said.
My cheeks burned hot. This was definitely fucking awkward.
"Why are you embarrassed?" he asked, leaning back in the chair.
I looked away and I half-coughed, half stretched to avoid his scrutiny.
"Don't ever be embarrassed for loving someone."
"It's just... awkward talking about this with you."
"Well get over it," he said. "You know how much your mother and I love you. But this is one of the few times we've disagreed when it came to you." My heart seized and my eyes snapped back to look at him. "She wants him gone. She's the one who wouldn't take his calls when he was looking for you. She refused to give him your number. I was the one who gave it to him, and boy, did I catch hell for that one," he said laughing.
"Why would you do that?"
"If I thought you couldn't handle seeing him again, I never would have given him your number. You're strong, stronger than you think, even that night you showed up on our doorstep. That took a lot of courage, son, and I'm so, so proud of you." His voice became unsteady and he gathered himself for a moment before he continued. "Your mother wanted to protect you, but you're a grown man and I thought it was time you stopped hiding. And now that I've seen those pictures, I know I made the right decision. There's only one person I give that same look to that you have in those," he said pointing to the envelope. "It's a rare thing what's in those pictures and doesn't happen for everyone.
"He's a good man. He's done some shitty things, but we've all made mistakes. It's about how we rectify the mistake that defines what kind of man we are. I believe he's here to be a man." He leaned forward again and patted my knee. He squeezed it gently and said, "And the other part of being a man is knowing when to forgive.
"Those pictures don't lie... and you both know that. So figure it out."
