CHAPTER THIRTY Van
The bedroom was dimly lit by a nightlight, casting my shadow on the opposing wall. Stripping, I slid into bed quietly and rolled over to face Chip. He tensed up and subtly moved away from my advance.
“I know you’re disappointed,” I whispered, withdrawing my hand from his waist.
I returned to my back and stared at the ceiling. The moment felt monumental. Perhaps this was the end. My insecurities had forecasted that the first fight would wreck us. After only two weeks, we had no foundation, no real history, and a disagreement this early could doom us.
“I needed your support,” he spoke, pain lacing his tremoring voice. “That man hurt me so badly, Van. And here you are inviting him into our home.”
He was right. Wouldn’t any person madly in love with their new man come to their defense? I’d abandoned him during an awful moment in his life. A moment that came so early on in our relationship.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t turn my back on someone in that much pain,” I confessed.
“Yet, you turned your back on me?”
“That wasn’t my intention,” I defended. “Of course, to you, it probably seems that way. But I’m showing John compassion because I hoped a caring approach could establish how things will be with all of us living in Missile.”
“I won’t be friends with him.”
“And that’s your right.”
Chip rolled onto his back but didn’t speak. The silence was deafening, but I understood he needed time to wrap his mind around what he considered my betrayal. I’d apologized, and I hoped he’d accept it.
“I wanted to tell him to fuck off,” Chip grumbled. “Toss him on his ass into the snow.”
“But you didn’t.”
Another minute went by. “But I’m just saying I wanted to.”
“But you didn’t,” I repeated.
Chip stood from the bed and wandered to the window, parting two aluminum slats of the blinds. A thin strip of moonlight outlined his broad back, and his chiseled ass had a crisscross of shadow and light on the diagonal. His physique took my breath away.
He turned to face me. My eyes had long ago adjusted, enabling me to clearly see his face in the dimness. “You’re gonna be like this all the time, aren’t you?”
I sat up. “Probably. But I can try to be what you’d like if you’d love me more. But I did that with Evan.”
Chip ran his hand over his head, puffing out his cheeks before exhaling. “As much as tonight hurts, I love who you are, Van. I’m just telling you that I needed you tonight. It feels like I was let down.”
I got out of bed and stood in front of him, laying my hand on his chest. “And I feel if I didn’t have the strength to set an example of who we truly are, that would have let you down,” I explained.
“We have a duty to support each other. I get that. But support can also be saving each other from doing something we’ll regret later. ”
“Regret? John didn’t reach out to me one single time after he ditched my ass,” he argued. “Now he fuckin’ shows up here unannounced, expecting a place to stay? In what fuckin’ universe does that happen?”
I placed my finger on his lips, urging him to lower his voice. “That happens in the same universe that sent me to you.”
Chip focused on me intently. Whether he was pissed or understood me was difficult to decipher. “I’m still struggling to get over the hurt,” he acknowledged. “I thought I was doing well. You know, life is great and all that crap. But I’m not. I’m angry, Van. I’m really fuckin’ pissed off.”
“And that’s understandable.”
Chip brushed my hand aside and turned toward the window again, his back to me. “He… he… I mean… fuck! How can he just show up here?”
“Imagine the strength that took,” I countered.
He spun around. “The strength? How about the fuckin’ nerve?”
“Come on, baby,” I advised. “Could you have done that?”
“Jesus, Van! Listen to you. For starters, I wouldn’t have pulled shit like that. That’s a bullshit move, and you know it.”
I backed away and sat on the edge of the bed, letting him glare at me with all the confusion and pain he could muster. I had a point I wanted to make, and deep down, I knew he had the ability to come around to what I saw as the truth.
“Did you love John once?”
“No!” he snapped. I tilted my head and gave him my best cut-the-crap look. “Yes, of course,” he caved. “Obviously, more than he loved me.”
I stood again and slowly approached him.
“Now take a second to listen to what I think,” I began, reaching for his hand.
“I think John had nowhere else to go. He knew I was here as well, so imagine how that had to feel. And for a reason neither of us understands, or maybe could do ourselves, he came here. He came looking for help, Chip.”
He considered my reasoning carefully. The fact that he didn’t instantly say he didn’t give a shit proved he was considering the possibility that John’s visit wasn’t about trying to cause issues.
“He has other friends he could stay with in town.”
“Perhaps,” I agreed. “But are those friends aware of the circumstances? Do they know John’s relationship with the man he left you for failed? Can he speak with them about that? Are they comfortable with the gay aspect? Are his parents?”
“Why are you doing this?” he whispered. “The guy destroyed me.”
I shot him a hard and fast stare. “Did he? He destroyed you? Then why am I here?” I dared.
Chip recoiled at my question. My desire to get him to move past history and embrace a future where he felt safe again was my only reason to risk losing him.
“I don’t think I can get past my anger.”
“Yes, you can,” I declared. “Because the man I fell in love with is better than this, Chip. I get it. Jesus! I get the pain and the hurt, but you loved that man and he needs us. Please, baby. Be bigger than your need for revenge. I happen to believe you can do that.”
“Then you’re better at seeing something in me that I don’t see.”
“That’s what a partner does,” I stated. “Evan didn’t, but I’m betting my heart you will.”
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Why do you even care about John?”
“Because I care more about you. Because I firmly believe you’ll do exactly the same when I stumble.”
“I don’t know about this, Van.”
“Can you try for me?” I asked.
Chip appeared to be digging deep. Perhaps truly asking himself if he possessed that level of maturity. I held my breath, wishing against all odds he could see my point.
“I can’t promise I’ll succeed, but yes, I’ll try because it’s important to you.”
“And you promise me you won’t resent me?” I inquired. “Because I need you to believe my heart and all of my support are with you.”
“I know,” he sighed. “And I’m going to trust you.”
“Thank you.”
“Fuck,” he mumbled, kicking pillows from the bed out of his way, and looking at me as he walked around the foot of the bed. “Tomorrow morning is gonna suck!”
“Tomorrow is Christmas Eve,” I reminded him.
“Fuck me!”