Chapter 3
Chapter Three
July
Stefan Weber
I stood at the kitchen window, watching the late afternoon light settle over Schoneberg.
The city moved below in its usual rhythm: cyclists gliding past along Eisenacher Stra?e; the rumble of trains leaving Nollendorfplatz; and voices rising from the café on the corner. It was a familiar view. A comforting one.
Behind me, I caught the soft clink of glass.
“Red or white?” Cole asked.
I turned. “Red.”
Cole was already pouring the wine.
He looked as he always did at home—barefoot, worn jeans, an old T-shirt stretched comfortably across a broad, solid chest. I took in his dark hair threaded with the odd wisp of grey, his thick beard, the kind of body I had always found impossible to ignore.
Cole was a bear, through and through.
I crossed the room to take the proffered glass, our fingers brushing briefly. Ordinarily I would have taken advantage of that contact, but not this evening.
A conversation had been brewing for weeks, and we both knew it.
Cole leaned back against the counter, studying me. “Did you mention something about a trip to Rome this morning?”
I nodded. “An IT software conference, but it isn’t until the end of next month.”
“How long will you be there for?”
I recalled the email I’d received. “Four days, maybe five.”
A wistful expression crawled across his face. “I’ve always wanted to visit Rome.”
I chuckled. “Trust me, Rome in August will be hell.” I knew he wouldn’t ask to accompany me, however.
Because we both know he won’t be around when August gets here. In Berlin, probably, but not in my apartment. He’ll be someone else’s boyfriend by then.
I hoped so, at any rate. He deserved that.
I sipped my wine, then set the glass down carefully on the table between us.
“You’ve been unhappy.” It was a statement of fact, because Cole also deserved someone who spoke the truth when it was required.
A sigh of obvious relief escaped him. “I have,” he admitted. “And I didn’t want to be.”
I nodded. “I know.” Silence fell, thankfully devoid of tension.
Cole rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “It’s not you. You know that, right?”
I allowed myself a faint smile. “It’s rarely that simple.”
“No, maybe not, but in this case?” He gazed at me with those warm, dark eyes. “It kind of is.” He hesitated. “You want things I don’t.”
I watched him carefully. “We’re talking kink, aren’t we?”
Cole gave a short nod. “Yeah. The leather, the clubs… all of it. I tried, Stef. I really did.”
I couldn’t keep my distance, not when I heard that plaintive note in his voice. I went over to him, and cupped his chin, tilting his face towards mine. “I know you did,” I told him in a low voice.
“And sometimes I even liked it,” Cole went on. He looked me in the eye then. “But not the way you do. And certainly not the way you need me to.”
I said nothing, but my chest tightened.
This really is goodbye.
There had been moments when I’d told myself I’d imagined the silences, the thoughtful gazes, that faraway look he got sometimes. He’d been living with me for six months, and yes, there were also moments when I felt as though he’d be there for another six, then a year, maybe two, maybe more…
Except part of me had always known he wasn’t mine to keep.
I had always known that if something stayed, it would be because it fit, not because I held onto it.
Cole rested his forehead against my shoulder, and the scent of him stirred my senses.
“I don’t want to be the man who holds you back,” he murmured.
And I wasn’t going to be the man who let him try.
“Because lately? That’s what it feels like,” he continued.
“You’re not holding me back,” I said quietly.
Cole raised his head and stared at me. “Aren’t I?”
I could lie. I could reassure him.
But that wouldn’t have been fair to either of us.
After a moment, I held his face between my palms. “We want different things.”
Cole let out a long breath, and some of the tension seeped from his shoulders.
“Yeah, we do.”
“I’m not going to pretend otherwise just to keep this going.”
And that part of me has to be ready to let him go.
I stroked his hair, cupping his nape. “You deserve to be with someone who wants the same life you do.”
Cole’s lips twitched. “And you deserve someone who can keep up with you.”
I huffed a quiet laugh. “That too.”
For a moment, neither of us moved, then Cole closed the distance and wrapped his arms around me. It wasn’t desperate or clinging, but simply familiar.
He rested his head once more against my shoulder, and my hand settled at the back of his neck, holding him there.
“Thank you,” Cole said after a moment of silence.
“For what?”
“For being good to me.”
I tightened my grip for a second or two. “You made that easy.”
We pulled apart slowly, and Cole picked up his glass again, draining the last of the wine. “When do you want me to leave?”
I blinked. “Whenever you find somewhere else. I’m not about to throw you out onto the street. Take as long as you need.”
“I’d feel better if we set a deadline,” he insisted.
I sighed. “Fine. What if we agree you’ll be out of here before I go to Rome? Will that give you enough time?”
He nodded, smiling. “That works for me.”
“You won’t go back to the States, will you?”
Cole snorted. “Are you kidding? Right now that’s the last place I wanna be. No, I’m not leaving. I have a job, I’m working on my German, I’ve applied for dual citizenship…” He grimaced. “Here I can be myself.”
“And your family?”
A cloud rolled across his face. “I’ve cut all ties with them.
That Christmas visit was the final straw.
They can’t tell me they love me, and then vote for that…
.” He took a couple of deep, calming breaths.
“Let’s just say I know which side of the fence they’re on, and it isn’t mine.
Now let’s change the subject.” He gestured towards the bedroom.
“About all my leathers hanging in your wardrobe…”
“Want me to help you pack them all up?”
He smiled, and I was relieved to see the light back in his eyes.
“You can keep them. I’m sure with your connections, you can find good homes for them.” He grinned. “You bought them, after all.”
“They were gifts.”
“I know, and I really am grateful, but…” He sighed. “They should go to someone who’ll wear them the way they should be worn.” He expelled a breath. “I like it this way. Clean break, right?” His eyes twinkled. “No drama. No shouting. No broken plates.”
“I’d be disappointed if there were,” I said dryly.
Cole laughed, and for a moment it felt like any other evening.
“Where would you like to eat tonight?”
He cocked his head. “My choice?”
I laughed. “That is why I’m asking.”
His face lit up. “Elefant?”
I chuckled. “Let me guess. Schnitzel, followed by that apple cake you love so much?”
He nodded eagerly. “And one of their amazing cocktails.”
I grabbed my phone. “I’ll book us a table. You know how busy they get.”
Cole stayed my hand. “Thanks, Stefan.”
“For what? Feeding you?”
He shook his head. “For everything. For buying me a drink that night at the Coven. For taking me under your wing. For introducing me to all your friends.” He smiled again.
“I can walk into Romeo and Romeo at any time of the day, and there’ll be someone who waves at me and says, ‘Hey, Cole, join us.’”
“You’re an easy man to like.”
He studied me for a moment. “You know what I would love?”
“I dread to ask.”
“I want you to find someone who fits you like a glove.”
I arched my eyebrows. “Isn’t that a little clichéd?”
“So what if it is? That’s what I want for you. A guy who fits into every corner of your life.” His eyes sparkled. “Especially the dark corners.”
I smacked his arse. “If we’re going out to eat, then one, I need to call the restaurant, and two, you need to get changed, because I am not taking you to dinner looking like that.”
Cole’s face glowed. “I won’t let you down.” Then he headed toward the bedroom.
I stayed where I was, listening to the quiet sounds of drawers opening, hangers shifting, Cole whistling tunelessly.
The apartment already felt different.
I went back to the window, resting my hand against the cool glass. Berlin was edging its way into evening, alive, restless, and full of possibility. And I was already anticipating Cole’s absence with a heavy heart.
I went to call Elefant, but instead I pulled up my calendar. Six weeks until the Rome trip. Six weeks to fill with work, distractions, and anything else I could think of.
And after that?
I looked out over the city again.
Let’s see what comes next.