CHAPTER 7
Bruno
“Darling, it’s been aaaages . What time are you finishing? I need a good bitch session.”
“Gina G! Well, aren’t you a sight for sore ears.” I glance at my watch. “I'm on late shifts at the moment, but I’m nearly due for dinner break.”
“Fabulous. Meet you in the cafeteria in ten.” That’s my friend Regina, bossy as ever. We’ve known each other for decades, since we studied nursing together at uni. It’s one of those enduring friendships, the kind where we only catch up on occasion, but we know it’s always gonna be there. Regina tends to flit around, living in different cities for a few years at a time. After breaking up with her latest “ bastard ” husband, she’s now back in Sydney for a stint as manager of the neurology ward here at the hospital.
The first time Regina left Sydney, she wasn’t Regina. Back then, she identified as a very effeminate gay man and occasional drag queen. I remember her return after several years in Melbourne. The transformation was a knockout—it was as if she’d become who she was always meant to be. Her slight Asian build made her look like an exotic princess, though she was one hundred percent raucous Aussie every time she opened her mouth.
“Jesus, what a clusterfuck of a weekend,” she says, kissing me on the cheek as we meet at the cafe. “I’m starving. Let's talk and walk.”
It’s one of those seventies-style cafeterias with a long metal counter where you slide your tray along and get what you want from the displays. I trail behind my bossy friend as she tells me all about her Saturday drama.
“So, I go to this women-only event with my lesbian mates. And these bitches on the door won’t let me in. Can you believe that? Apparently, I don’t count as a woman. This young scrag stands on her TERF soapbox when I demand to know what her damn definition of a woman is. ‘Well, having a cunt for a start,’ she sneers at me. And I tell her, ‘I’ve had a cunt longer than you’ve been alive, honey.’” Regina points to a piece of fish at the exact time she drops the C-word. The cafeteria lady behind the counter gives her a shitty look and Regina smiles sweetly back at her.
“You’re fucking kidding me. What happened after that?”
“Nothing. I left,” says Regina. “The night was pretty much ruined.”
Stuff like this makes my fucking blood boil. I know Regina hates anything that looks like pity, so I’m more than happy to show anger instead. “I remember reading a column in the Star Observer where something like this happened to one of their journalists. Fuck, I miss the days of the gay papers. You could have hounded them to write this up. People need to know this shit happens.”
Regina gives me an indulgent smile. “Bruno. Sweetie . You’re so 2005. You need to get your grandaddy arse onto social media one of these days. I’ve plastered it everywhere .”
“Ugh. I have enough going on in my life without becoming glued to those bloody sites.”
“Doesn’t seem to have stopped you whoring around on Growlr,” she chirps.
“Growlr isn’t social media, it’s just a place to find dick.” I have to stop myself grinning like an idiot. “Anyway, I gave up all that shit.”
We've finally reached the cash register, so I’m saved from blurting out too much. After paying ridiculous prices for our basic food, I find myself following Regina once again, this time to a secluded table up the back. “Well, that’s my bitch forum used up,” she says as we take a seat. “What’s been happening with you?”
I’m in two minds here. I’m dying to tell her about Bradford. He’s all I can think of. But then I have to tell her about so many other things. And do I really wanna be keeping someone informed about my private affairs—even someone who just skirts on the edges of my life like Gina does?
“You’re fucking someone,” she says with a raised eyebrow. “Spill.”
Well, I guess the decision’s been made for me, now. “Yes,” I sigh. The relief running through my body now I’ve admitted this is a complete shock. Suddenly, there’s a shit ton of word vomit trying to barge its way out of my mouth. “For a few weeks. This beautiful, stocky little bear called Bradford.”
Regina looks up from her plate, curious as hell. She’s never heard me say anything like this. I’ve been with Brendan forever. Of course, she knows all about our open relationship, but I’ve only ever had random hookups. Nothing more. “Oh? And what does this Bradford do?”
“He used to be an opera singer, then he had to retire when he lost a ton of his eyesight. These days he gets around with a guide dog and he does some kind of online music teaching.”
“Hmm. And can he actually see you?” Regina eyes me up and down with a smirk.
“Yes, he most certainly can. And he’s made it very clear that he enjoys the view.”
Regina waves her fork at me. “Ooh, I like this smug thing you’ve got going on now, Bru. Kinda suits you. So what does Brendan think about this new boy-toy?”
“Ha! Well, for a start, this boy-toy is almost our age.” I let that sink in for a moment. Unlike me, Regina’s looming half-century is a bit of a sore point, even though she looks ten years younger. “And no. I haven’t said anything to Brendan.” I sit up defiantly in my seat. “Brendan has had fuckbuddy after fuckbuddy for years. I’ve never stopped him and I’ve never been jealous, not even once”
“But you don’t want to tell him about your fuckbuddy.”
“Those were the rules we made. We know we fuck others, but we don’t share details. It’s always worked for us.” I’m feeling defensive, but I’m trying not to show it.
“Fair enough,” says Regina. “Your relationship, your rules.” She gives up on her limp-looking fish, plopping her fork down on her plate and dabbing at her lipstick with a napkin. “Tell me more about this Bradford, then.”
A rush of childish energy hits me and I wanna squeal like a little girl. “I literally jump out of bed in the mornings, Gina. I can’t wait to see him. Pretty much every day this last fortnight I’ve been walking for miles, up and down hills with him and his dog. I tell you, my arse has never been so perky, and I haven’t had to do leg day in weeks.”
“Ha! ‘Leg day’?” Regina scoffs. “You’re trying to tell me you’ve been going to the gym?”
“Cheeky bitch! I’ll have you know I’m at the private hospital one all the time .”
“How often?”
“Um… twice a week.” I say it quickly, but it doesn’t stop Gina laughing like a bloody hyena. “Screw you, look at these!” I hold up my guns. Yeah, I’m not remotely ripped; my body has an all-over chubby comfort layer. But my arms and pecs are nice and muscly underneath it.
“Lovely. What about your gut, though?”
“Hey! Men love my belly, thank you very much. Bradford can’t keep his hands off it. He uses it as a pillow every bloody night.”
“ Every night, Bru? Just how serious is this affair?”
“Well, on my nights off, at least. I go and stay over at his place in Bondi. He’s a fucking firecracker in bed. He’s so eager and so adventurous and so bloody affectionate.”
Regina smiles thoughtfully and her voice goes all delicate. “And what does Bradford think of your domestic situation?”
“Oh.” I’m laughing now. “I haven’t explained this properly. Bradford’s in an open relationship too.”
“And his partner…?”
“Is a fucking prick from what I can tell. I don’t think he treats Bradford very well at all. Anyway, he’s been away for the last few weeks.”
“Mm-hmm.” Regina looks doubtful. I suddenly realise how bad all this shit sounds.
“No. There’s no sneaking around. Bradford’s partner fucks more guys than Brendan .” Regina doesn’t need me to say any more here. She knows bloody well that I’m the boring homebody and Brendan’s the social butterfly. I take a deep breath. This is the part I really didn’t want to get into. “Brendan’s gonna be house sitting for this rich couple he knows while they’re in Europe in March and April. Big terrace in Surry Hills complete with two cocker spaniels.” I stare down at my awful coffee, which has now gone cold. “Things have been distant between us lately. I’m wondering if there’s a lot more to this than just a change of scenery for a while.”
I gaze back up at Regina, trying to work out her reaction. “You don’t need me to tell you anything, darl,” she says finally. “You already know what you have to do.”
***
That night, Brendan’s watching some bloody awful action thing on TV when I get home at ten p.m. “Hey, Brie!” I call out over the ruckus. I really should tell Bradford about this nickname, especially given the confusion with his dog. But Brendan doesn't even like me calling him by his old drag moniker. He was funny as hell onstage, but he’s also a hairy otter of a man. He looked fuck-ugly as a woman, I can tell you.
“Oh, hey,” he says, glancing up from where he’s sprawled on the couch as I enter the living room. “There’s leftover pizza in the fridge if you want any.”
“Oh, thanks. That’s really nice of you.” We’re speaking all kinda detached, but it’s become the norm for us. We sound like flatmates. We act like flatmates. Brendan even sleeps on the daybed in the study a lot of the time. He’ll stay up late watching TV, then go and pass out in there while I’m sleeping down the hall in the only bedroom. Sometimes he crawls into bed with me in the early hours of the morning. I don’t know why he does it, I’ve never asked him. But there’s no kissing. No cuddling.
After zapping the pizza in the convection oven, I wander into the lounge room and take a seat in the recliner next to the couch. I watch Brendan as I eat. He really is the loveliest man. Fun, happy, a decent person all round. We have a lifetime of history together. But we really are just friends now. All the sex and romance is a distant memory. I don’t miss it and neither does he. I’m absolutely sure of that.
Brendan reaches for the remote, stops the program and rolls over to look up at me. “So, Bru… I notice you’ve been going out a fair bit. Are you seeing someone?” He doesn’t sound like he’s pointing the finger. It doesn’t seem like he’s remotely jealous or upset, either. How could he be, really? He’s hardly the type to be a bloody hypocrite.
“Um, yeah. Just made a friend. Casual, you know.” I can’t hide how uncomfortable I sound. I feel like I’ve been caught out.
“Hey, it’s fine. You don’t have to say anything. No details, remember?” He swivels on his arse to sit up and looks at me for a few seconds. “Maybe…” His eyes shift a bit. It’s like he’s struggling with the weight of his thoughts. “Maybe all this stuff is happening at the right time. Maybe we should look at this house sitting thing as a trial separation.”
I nod carefully. This is exactly what I was suspicious of. And now that it’s out there, it can’t be taken back.
“What are you thinking?” he prompts. “I mean, we both know this has been coming, don’t we.”
Thoughts are racing around my head too fast for me to catch them. I’m feeling so many things at once. I agree with everything Brendan is saying. One hundred percent. But part of me is fucking terrified.
Brendan tries one more time. “Bru, you’ve gotta agree that there’s no relationship here anymore. There hasn’t been for years.”
“I know, but I don’t want to lose my best mate,” I blurt. I barely manage to stop myself breaking down like a fucking sook.
Brendan’s expression twists up in some kind of pained sympathy. It’s not a look I’m used to seeing from him. But then again, this isn’t a situation we’ve ever found ourselves in. “Oh, Bru,” he says softly. “After twenty years together we’re not gonna stop being mates. I couldn’t bear that.”
I look at Brendan long and hard. I believe him. I’ve always trusted him completely. The absolute fucking chaos in my head suddenly comes to a screeching halt. This whole confrontation has been awkward as hell, but I can see it now, clear as day. We’re holding each other back.
Late that night, after Brendan and I have given each other a long and uneasy hug, after he’s gone to sleep in the study and I’m tucked up in bed, I cry. I cry because I know things will never be the same again. I cry because I built my life around this relationship. I cry because I’m shitscared of what will happen to me tomorrow, the next day, and every day after that. I cry because now that I’ve finally been cut loose, I no longer know who I am.