Chapter 46 #3
“I miss you, too,” Danny finally says, and hope unfurls in Sasha’s chest. “And, uh, thanks for apologizing. I just…”
“What?” Sasha asks after another pause.
Danny exhales, a low whoosh that Sasha isn’t sure how to interpret.
“Look, what you said about my gymnastics and, um, Rio… like, yeah, it was hard hearing that, but… I don’t know.
I mean, I get it. And, like, I’m not mad or anything, but…
honestly? That wasn’t even, like—all the other stuff you said was way worse.
About, like, me not being part of your life? That sucked.”
Sasha thinks he’s gotten the translation right, but he still can’t figure out what the hell Danny’s talking about. “What? You are not part of my life? I did not say this.”
“Yeah, Sasha, you did. I asked if I could come visit you, and you were all like, “That’s my life,’ like I’m just… not, I guess? That—” Danny’s voice cracks. “That really fucking hurt.”
Sasha’s completely lost. He doesn’t understand how Danny got there from whatever he’d actually said, which he can’t remember, but it wasn’t that.
Danny not being part of his life? What the hell?
That doesn’t make any sense. And what were they even talking about in the first place?
Right—Danny had asked to visit him in Moscow, as if he could just do that, as if he wouldn’t be putting everything in Sasha’s life at risk…
Wait. That’s what Danny’s upset about?
Sasha blinks at the Iset, barely registering the grey-blue water or the skyscrapers glimmering on the opposite shore. He gets it now—and Jesus Christ, Danny still doesn’t, because he’d somehow thought… what, that he didn’t matter to Sasha? What the fuck?
“Danny, I said my life here. In Moscow. You don’t understand.
Of course you—how can you think you are not in my life?
” Realizing his voice is rising, Sasha quickly lowers it, glancing around for any joggers or cyclists on the path.
“I risk everything for you. My family, my friends, my gymnastics—everything. And you think you are not in my life?”
“I—”
“I take one month vacation to see you. I bring my mother to meet you. I lie to everyone for you. I had”—Sasha double-checks to make sure he’s alone, then hisses, “I had sex with you.”
“I know,” Danny says weakly. “You’re right, I’m sorry.
I guess… I just wasn’t really thinking about it like that.
” And just as Sasha’s anger swells up like a hot-air balloon, he adds, “Cause, like… after that morning… and all the stuff you said at the beach, it kind of made me feel, like, okay, maybe he doesn’t care. ”
Sasha deflates, shame tearing a jagged hole through his rage. Danny sounds so hurt, and Sasha’s the one who did this to him, made him believe he didn’t matter.
“Danny, of course I care,” he says, trying to undo the damage. “I always care about you.”
“Thanks.” There’s a small sound, like Danny’s sniffling. “Sorry. I just… fuck, Sash, I really miss you.”
“I miss you, too.” Sasha grips his phone, holding his breath; it feels like he’s just gotten a signal from the judges, but he doesn’t know what it means.
Is Danny saying Sash and I really miss you because he wants them to get back together?
And then what? Would they just move on, all’s forgiven, and pretend none of this ever happened?
“What are you thinking?” Danny asks, and Sasha swallows.
He’s thinking that he doesn’t care if it’s a bad idea, that nothing’s actually changed and he still can’t trust Danny not to tell other people about them (and that Danny has, in fact, told even more people about them, or at least not lied when he should have).
He’s thinking this past month has been torture, waking up without any messages from Danny in the morning, not being able to hear Danny’s voice on the phone at night, and he can’t keep doing it anymore.
He’s thinking he’d rather die than hang up this call and never hear from Danny again.
It doesn’t matter that he’s only delaying the inevitable.
That one day, he’ll still have to say goodbye to Danny forever, and then he’ll have to figure out how to exist like this for the rest of his life.
All that matters is that he doesn’t have to do it now, that he can hold onto Danny for just a little longer.
He clears his throat, looking up at the bright blue sky and hoping, praying, that Danny feels the same way. “Can we… can we try again?”
Maybe it’ll be better this time. Maybe now that the Hartmans know, it’ll be enough for Danny and they won’t have to fight anymore. Maybe Sasha can learn how to say the words Danny wants him to, and—
“I… I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Danny says.
It’s like tripping on the vault runway, a ripple in the rug where Sasha wasn’t expecting it. “Why?”
“Because…” Danny breaks off, then sighs. “Look, Sasha… what are we doing? Like, where is this going?”
“Going?” Sasha echoes.
“Yeah. Like, after we retire, have you, like… thought about us being together? Like, is that even something you want?”
There Danny goes again, rattling the box of all the things Sasha can’t have.
Of course he’s fucking thought about some alternate universe, some other life where he could be with Danny after retirement, but that’s not how it works.
It doesn’t matter what he thinks or wants, because it’s not going to happen.
So why does Danny keep acting like it’s an option?
“Okay. That’s what I thought,” Danny says, though Sasha hasn’t said anything. “Look, Sasha, I just… I don’t think this is going to work. Cause, like, you don’t see a future with me, and you don’t love me, so—”
Danny abruptly stops talking, and all Sasha can hear is the Iset lapping at the rocks.
He squeezes his eyes shut, everything inside of him screaming Say it!
Just say it back already! But saying it now would only sound like he’s trying to convince Danny to stay, not like he means it.
And he doesn’t know if he means it. Because he’s never been allowed to say it before, not like this, and maybe what he feels for Danny is different, something he’ll never be able to figure out.
He wants to love Danny. He wants to tell Danny that he loves him. But he can’t. The words won’t come.
“Never mind,” Danny says, and Sasha realizes, too late, that his silence was an answer all on its own. “Just—forget it, I have to go.”
“Danny—”
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I shouldn’t have… whatever. Thanks for, um. Thanks for calling. And, uh… good luck tomorrow. Yeah. Um, okay. Bye.”
“Danny—”
But Danny’s gone.