Chapter 11
11
I sent Aaron a “good morning” text first thing Monday before heading off to class. I had a full day ahead of me, and I was hoping we could meet later that night. Aaron usually returned text messages immediately. His phone was practically glued to his hand. The guy was a social media enthusiast. When I didn’t receive a text from him by noon, I began to worry. Unfortunately, I was due at the law office and didn’t have a chance to do more than send a second message. By late afternoon, when neither text was returned, I had a feeling something was up. I called his cell, but it went straight to voice mail. Not good.
I got a little obnoxious and started leaving messages every hour.
“Aaron, hi. Call me when you get a chance. I was hoping we could maybe go have dinner tonight. You free?”
“Hi again. I haven’t heard back from you. Busy day? Call me when you get a minute.”
“Where are you? Did you have a good day? Call me. I want to talk to you.”
“Baby, please. You’re mad, aren’t you? Call me.”
“Aaron, please. Call me.”
I had to talk myself out of going to his apartment. A ton of messages and texts should get the message across. If he didn’t call me in the morning, though, all bets were off.
I sent him a text first thing the next morning. Again, no response. At noon, I sent a very long text.
Ok ur mad.
U must b. I’m sorry. Plz call me.
We nd to talk. R u home tonite?
I want 2come over
Please
Nothing. Nada. Zilch. I was getting mad. I hated the silent treatment. Really hated it. If you’re pissed off at me, be pissed off. But don’t ignore me, damn it. My anger turned to concern when I realized I hadn’t heard anything from him in forty-eight hours. I checked online to see if he’d posted anything, but it looked like he had gone radio silent there also. I called again, left yet another pathetic “please call me” message before getting in my car and heading over to his place.
His BMW was parked on the street in front of his building, so I figured he was home. Or wait, maybe he went out. I drove when we went out because he hated to lose a prime parking spot, plus he hated driving, and in my opinion was a menace on the roads. Did he have a date? Was there someone else? We hadn’t said we were exclusive. We’d never said we were committed. The word “boyfriend” never was mentioned. We were going slow. Aaron wanted it that way. Fuck! My errant head was a mess in more ways than one. Jealousy was eating a hole in my stomach with just the thought of him with someone else.
I decided not to call or text that I was out front. I was sure I would keep getting the silent treatment. A sneak attack was called for. I waited until I saw another tenant enter the main door and slipped in with her. Making my way to his floor, I said a brief prayer that he would (a) talk to me, and (b) be alone. I had worked myself into a cool sweat by the time I actually knocked on his door. There was no music blaring from inside, so I figured he heard my knock. I tried again, louder this time. I became concerned that no music was a bad thing. Desperate now, I started thinking he was hurt. Maybe he wasn’t answering because he couldn’t. I banged on the door and yelled for him to open it.
“Aaron! It’s me. Please open the door. You are freaking me out. You haven’t returned my calls or messages for two fucking d….”
The door opened abruptly and an irate-looking Aaron was impatiently waving me in.
“For fuck’s sake! Would you keep it down! Jesus, Matt. The neighbors will be calling the police. Come in already!”
I breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped into his apartment. He was fine. I quickly switched to anger. That meant I was being ignored. What the fuck?
“Why have you been avoiding me? You haven’t responded to my texts, calls. I went from irritated to concerned to fucking frantic over forty-eight fucking hours. Geez.” I paced while I blasted him. I had all this crazy energy now. The man was making me nuts.
He stood in his entryway with his arms folded, giving me an appraising stare. He must have just returned from work. He was wearing a pair of tight-fitting khaki dress pants with a blue-and-white striped oxford shirt. Gorgeous. I wanted to reach out, grab him, touch him, brush his hair away from his eyes, run my hands over his ass. None of that was going to happen, according to his body language. Something was up. I’d been given the silent treatment for a reason, and it seemed as though I was finally going to find out why.
“So, you’re telling me that you were banging on my door like a man possessed because you were worried about me? What were you going to do? Break the damn door down? Calm yourself, He-Man. I’m fine.”
“How the hell would I know that? You have been ignoring me for days!” I was trying not to lose my cool, but he was frustrating, to say the least.
Aaron let out a long, tired sigh, unfolded his arms, and walked into his kitchen.
“Want anything to drink?” He grabbed a water bottle and tossed one to me before I could answer.
“Thanks.” I followed him back into his living room and sat on the opposite end of the sofa. My hands were clammy. I had a sinking sensation I wasn’t going to like whatever he had to say. His posture was rigid and tense. He wasn’t happy.
“Matt. I can’t do this.” He held up a hand to stop me from speaking. “I had a feeling that the straight guy turned gay was a bad idea for me, and I was right.”
“Aaron, you’re being dramatic. Why is this a bad idea? Everything about this, me and you, is good.”
He shook his head. He looked tired and resigned. Neither were good signs for me.
“Look, I said we’d go slow and see how we feel. The other day, Matt… you looked so miserable being with me. And when we ran into your ex. Ugh. First of all, you never told me how beautiful she was or that she was head over heels in love with you. Did you even notice how she looked at you? No. I bet not. I’m not sure what you told her before you introduced us, but it certainly wasn’t, ‘Hey, that’s the guy I’m sleeping with.’ Not that I expected it, but fuck! You looked so unhappy, so trapped. It was everything I was afraid of.” He paused, visibly upset. “Matt, I’m gay. I’m out, I’m proud. I don’t know how to be anything or anyone else. I never have. My dad has been lamenting the fact for years now, hoping I’ll grow out of it and bring home a nice Catholic girl. It will never happen. For you, it could happen.”
“I’m not Catholic,” I said lamely.
“Matt, I’m not sure you know who you are or what you want. We are good together. We have fun. I love being with you. I won’t lie. But my problem is that I’m becoming a little too attached to someone with too much baggage. I told you I like to travel lightly.”
“You aren’t making any sense.” I stood up to pace again. I was too agitated to sit still. “I’m sorry I freaked out. You’re right. I had a moment where I realized I didn’t want to be at the fucking mall because I hate the fucking mall, but there I was. With you. Because I wanted to be with you more than I didn’t want to be there. And yeah, it scared me. It felt couple-y.” He shot me a frustrated look. “But I liked it, Aaron. I… we just hadn’t talked about any of it. And then, out of the blue, there’s Kristin! I’m sorry I didn’t tell her you were special to me. I was tongue-tied and stupid and I’m sorry. I freaked.”
Silence. I waited for him to speak. I had apologized, so I figured the ball was in his court. I sat back down.
“I can’t take a chance, Matt. I’m sorry too.”
“What do you mean? Aar, please. What do you want me to do? I… I want you, I want us. I’m in virgin territory here, babe. Do you want me to publicly announce I’m dating a man? Which opens a whole other set of questions for me. Are we dating? Just lovers? What do you want from us?”
“Nothing, Matt.”
“Aar, you can’t mean that. I’m sorry for Sunday. A million times over. Please.”
“Don’t you get it? It isn’t just about Sunday! Matt, you say you want us, but come on! You looked visibly sick when you ran into your ex. I think you need some space to figure out what you want in your future. I’m the first guy you’ve ever been with. I don’t want to think this hasn’t meant anything to you, but maybe you need something more familiar.”
“What? Kristin? I don’t want her. I don’t want a different girl, nor do I want to experiment with other guys. I’ve been with another guy before. I want you, Aaron. Only you.”
He let out a deep breath and turned to face me. There was a tear on his eyelash.
“I won’t settle anymore. I get that life doesn’t come with guarantees, but I want something that looks like it could be the real thing. I don’t want to be someone’s dirty secret. I want the man I’m with to be proud to be with me. You can’t give me what I need, Matt. I don’t think it’s because you don’t want to. I just don’t think you’re ready.”
Tears were rolling down his face in earnest now. I leapt to his side to comfort him, to tell him he was being crazy, to fight for my cause. He put his arm up to shield my advance and shot to his feet.
“Please go, Matt.” He turned, walked to the front door, and held it open for me to leave.
My heart was in my throat. I didn’t know what to say. He was breaking my heart. So I told him the truth.
“Aaron. I love you.”
His head snapped up.
“Matt….”
“I do, Aaron. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I know.”
I probably sounded a little manic. It was how I felt. Crazy. And yet somehow sure that I was absolutely telling the truth.
He didn’t look convinced. In fact, he seemed upset.
“Matt, go. You don’t know what you’re saying. Please, just go.”
The look on his face was heart wrenching, and it killed me to know I had something to do with putting it there.
“Look, I’ll go now, but Aaron… I’m serious, and somehow, some way I’ll prove it to you. You… matter. This matters.”
I kissed him quickly on the cheek and left before I could say anything else. I needed to retreat and figure out how to convince him that what I said was true. I was in love with him.
Easier said than done. Aaron wouldn’t accept my phone calls, and stalking him was just plain creepy. I decided to enlist Curt’s help. His advice hadn’t exactly worked for me yet, but it was sound nonetheless. And at this point, it certainly couldn’t hurt.
“What you need to do is wow him.”
“Huh? How?”
We were at a dive bar near our apartment. I didn’t want to go into the whole story when Dave got back from work, so I asked Curt to meet me for a beer.
“Matt, you are so dense sometimes. What does your instinct tell you to do? You know him better than me. Christ! What does he like to do? Where does he like to go? Suppose we were talking about a girl, what would you do?”
“We aren’t talking about a girl, asshole. Geez, he likes to dance, he likes to run, he loves romantic movies with happy endings, he’s a great cook, he loves his friends, his family…. How does any of this help me?”
“Well, I don’t know exactly, but maybe it would be a good idea to enlist his best friend to help your cause. He might be able to help make something happen, or encourage him to listen to you. Do you think he would?”
“I don’t know. I guess it’s worth a shot. Aaron’s giving me the silent treatment.” I took a long swig of my beer before I continued. “Curt, I’m a fucking mess. He’s all I can think about. I can’t sleep, I can barely concentrate at school and work. Shit! I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Love?” He looked at me like he knew I would pounce on that one little word and kick his ass for even mentioning it. When I didn’t, his eyebrows shot comically up to his hairline. “You’re in love?”
I shrugged. Yeah, and it was definitely not all hearts and roses, if my current sad-sack condition was any evidence.
“Well, if that’s the case, man, make it big. Who’s his best friend? Maybe he’ll help you out.”
The thing was, I wasn’t sure Jay would help me. My guess was he would protect Aaron from me, assuming I would unintentionally hurt him. Peter, on the other hand, might help me get to him through Jay. It was worth a try.
Getting in touch with Peter would be the tricky part. I knew the firm he worked for, but little else. If they asked any questions about departments or gave me a chain of voice mails, I could be screwed. I placed a call the following morning in between classes. The number was a general one, which thankfully led me to Peter Morgan’s secretary in just four call transfers. She was very polite, told me Mr. Morgan was currently out of the office, but she would leave him a message. I didn’t want to risk that Peter wouldn’t know who I was, especially since I was contacting him at work and this was personal. I asked for his direct voice mail when she told me she couldn’t give out his private cell phone number. When I hung up, I felt pretty good. Hell, it was better than nothing.
I had a message waiting for me when I got out of class. It was Peter.
“Hi, Matt. Peter returning your call. Give me a call.”
The tone of the message was businesslike, but the fact he returned my call at all seemed like a positive. Whatever. I couldn’t afford to waste time overthinking. I called him back immediately.
“Peter Morgan” came the brisk reply on the first ring.
“Hi, Peter. This is Matt Sullivan. Thanks for calling back.”
“Hey, Matt. What can I do for you?”
“Um, well, this is a little awkward….” I really hadn’t thought how to phrase my request.
“It’s Aaron, right?”
“Yeah, I….”
“I can’t really talk at the moment, but why don’t you meet me at the Old Regent for a drink at five. You free?”
“Yes, I’ll be there.”
“Great. See you then.”
Step one accomplished. Now I had to figure out how to get him to help me.
I arrived at the Old Regent ten minutes early and found a seat at a high table for two. It would give us a little privacy, which was a bonus. The bar Peter had chosen was very high-end and catered to well-known politicians and lobbyists. I was glad I’d come from work so I was at least dressed for the upscale atmosphere. The heavy oak paneling and crystal chandeliers were old-money posh. Elaborate floral arrangements told me I wasn’t in a “normal” bar. My usual student attire would have made me feel out of place amongst the super elite DC after-work crowd. I needed a boost to my confidence, no matter how shallow the means.
I had just ordered a vodka martini when I caught sight of Peter with his phone pressed to his ear, pacing just outside the entrance. He spotted me and held up a hand in greeting, also indicating he might be stuck on the phone a bit longer. I nodded in response. Peter was every bit the well-heeled businessman in his expensively tailored suit and elegant air. The guy had most likely just put in a ten-plus-hour day even though it was only 5:00 p.m., but he still looked sharp. The sexy afternoon stubble didn’t hurt matters either. The man was stunning. Gay or straight, it couldn’t be denied.
“Sorry about that. Client.” He shook my hand and signaled to the waiter with the other.
“No problem. Thank you for meeting me.”
“So… Aaron?”
“Yeah. How did you guess?”
Peter’s eyes twinkled with amusement and a wry smile.
“Jay is my partner. Aaron is his best friend. Those two are like… well, never mind. Let’s just say, Jay and I have been together for a few years now, so I know that if something is bothering one of them, the other will know all about it.”
“So you already know?”
“I try not to pay too much attention, but either way, what is it I can help you with?”
In other words, man up, cards on the table, Matt. I took a deep breath and asked for help.
“What do you want me to do, exactly?” He hadn’t refused, which was good, but I didn’t know what I wanted him to do, exactly.
“I need to convince him somehow, right? You just told me how tight he and Jay are. Can you persuade Jay to convince Aaron to at least hear me out?”
“Maybe. Jay isn’t exactly a pushover. He won’t help just because I ask if he’s truly concerned you’re a danger to Aaron. I mean emotionally, of course. He’ll help if he thinks it’s in Aaron’s best interest, but honestly, Matt, I’m not sure how to play that one. I’ve been with women too, and I understand that sexuality isn’t cut and dry. Aaron and Jay aren’t as giving on the idea. I think Aaron is afraid of being an experiment to you. So this is a tough one.”
“I get that, but it’s not true. I… I tried to tell him. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Any girl, any guy… this is different. I won’t change my mind.”
We were both silent for a few minutes. A piano man sat at the baby grand in the corner of the bar and ran his hands over the keys, warming up to perform for the after-work crowd. Inspiration struck like a bolt out of the blue. I knew exactly what I needed to do, but I still needed Peter’s help.
We discussed my plan over a second cocktail before shaking hands and parting ways. For the first time in days, I had a feeling I could win Aaron back. I practically skipped to my car. Things were looking up.