Chapter 2
Dominic
My metalcore playlist was on full blast as I sped down the 10 freeway toward my best friend Rhett’s and Genevieve’s house on the other side of town. Rhett is a mechanic, and he had let me borrow his specialty socket set I needed to fix a Harley. We made plans yesterday for me to return it tonight so he could use them at his shop tomorrow.
Rhett and I grew up together here in Phoenix, Arizona. We were next-door neighbors all throughout our childhood, so we went to the same elementary school, middle school, and high school. But, in all our years of friendship, I’d been keeping a secret from him; I was in love with his wife…
Rhett is a great guy, with good intentions, but I knew that when it comes to mental health or any type of neurodiversity, he was… ignorant. Not intentionally, of course, he just doesn’t understand it, and since he has never experienced anxiety or depression, he has a hard time recognizing the signs. He was accepting of me and my sexuality when I came out as bisexual when I was eighteen, so I knew that he had the ability to be more sympathetic, but for some reason, he was blind to mental health struggles.
Now, here’s the shitty part. Even though Rhett is blind to the needs of the people he loves, I was in love with him, too…
When he met Genevieve, I immediately noticed she had all the classic signs of severe anxiety and depression, and it breaks my heart. It’s exhausting trying to explain to someone who truly doesn’t understand what’s going on in your mind. Don’t get me started on that narcissistic cunt of a woman she has for a mother. One night, when I was over to watch a UFC fight on their big screen, Genevieve had too much to drink and opened up to me about what happened to her growing up.
What kind of mother would ignore an ADHD diagnosis concern from her daughter’s doctor when she was a preteen? She just had the ‘it’s not ADHD, she’s just fucking lazy’ attitude. She was told to just ‘tough it out, the Marshalls aren’t weak women.’
That night, when Genevieve had opened up to me about her mental health, she had a panic attack and fainted. I had barely caught her, preventing her from hitting her head on the edge of the coffee table, and Rhett just laughed it off that she had too much to drink and went to get another beer from the kitchen.
Holding her to my chest that night just felt… right. Like she was meant to be mine. How perfect she felt in my arms, the smell of her hair, how perfectly my hands fit on either side of her cheeks… As I held her, I could feel how thin she was underneath her baggy sweater and jeans. Her dark brown hair looked thin and like it was losing its shine. Even her skin looked pale and sickly.
But she married Rhett. I had too much respect for them both to pursue anything, so I just helped her to lie on the couch and joined Rhett in the kitchen. I’ve voiced my concerns for Gen in the past, but he was persistent that she’s alright and that she would tell him if something was wrong…
Pulling up in front of their house, I forced my mind out of the past and took a deep breath.
Gen doesn’t want you. Rhett doesn’t want you. Don’t fuck up their marriage. I thought, as I reached to the passenger seat to grab Rhett’s tools before exiting my car.
Approaching their front door, I gave three quick knocks before letting myself in.
“Hey, Dom,” Rhett said, standing from the couch to greet me in our typical man hug.
Fuck, he smells good.
“Thanks for letting me borrow your sockets. Helped a ton,” I said, handing over the case.
“No problem, man. How’s that Harley project of yours going?” Rhett asked, placing the case on the floor next to the couch, and motioned for me to follow him into the kitchen.
“Almost done. Just need to fit on the new gas tank and she’s good as new for the customer,” I said as Rhett opened the refrigerator, getting two beer bottles. “Where’s Gen?” I asked as he opened the twist-off top, handing me a bottle. I tipped the bottle toward him in thanks and took a long swig.
“She went to get ready for bed. Kind of early, but I think her mother called, so she probably needed to decompress,” Rhett said, taking a sip of his own after tossing the caps in the trash can.
“Is she alright? I can’t stand that mother of hers and—”
I was interrupted by the sound of breaking glass and a thud.
We looked at each other in confusion, and Rhett rushed to the closed bathroom door.
“Gen?” Rhett knocked. “Gen, are you okay in there?”
No answer.
Placing my beer down, I joined Rhett at his side and knocked myself.
“Gen? It’s Dom. Are you okay?”
Nothing.
Fuck, if she fainted again…
Rhett turned the doorknob and pushed open the door. And the one thing I never wanted to see was lying before me… Gen was passed out on the bathroom floor. She looked even thinner than last time, and her signature baggy sweater had risen enough to show her belly button. Her hips bones were way too visible through her skin…
“Fuck, Gen?!” Rhett quickly kneeled next to his wife, checking for a pulse, and brushing her hair out of her face.
My dream girl has been crying; dry trails of tears stained her perfect cheeks as she lay there taking shallow breaths.
“What can I do, Rhett? Want me to call 911?” I asked, pulling my phone from my pocket.
Gen’s soft groan shut us both up and we focused our eyes on her. She started to stir and come to, and Rhett scooped her up so she was in a sitting position, embracing her.
“Gen, oh my god, what happened, baby?” Rhett asked, his voice cracked as he gently rocked her.
Her head was resting on his shoulder, and her arm was draped over his and just hanging there. Her perfect brown hair was covering half of her face and I kneeled behind Rhett, brushing the hair out of the way in case it was making it hard for her to breathe.
“Gen, are you okay?” I asked softly as my thumb brushed away new tears.
The moment my thumb touched her skin, she blinked, opening her tired, hooded brown eyes and stared into mine. Her eyes were so full of longing, exhaustion, pain; all I wanted to do was scoop her up out of Rhett’s arms and take her home with me where she belonged…
“Hey, Genni,” I said, brushing away a stray tear.
“Gen? What happened?” Rhett brushed her hair lovingly, and she peeled her eyes off of me, burying her face in his shoulder and sobbed. “Let’s get off the floor, baby.” Rhett guided her hands to hold on to the toilet seat so he could stand first and kicked the large pieces of broken glass out of the way. “I’m going to help you up and carry you to bed, okay? I don’t want you to step on any glass with your bare feet.”
“Here, let me help,” I said, sidestepping around them so I was behind Gen. “Can I scoop you up under your arms, Genni?” I asked for permission so she didn’t get too overstimulated.
She shook her head in a “yes”, and I squatted down behind her, scooping my arms under her armpits and stood tall, bringing her up with me. Rhett was ready, draping one of her arms over his shoulder and scooping her into his arms like she weighed nothing.
“Alright, let’s get you comfortable,” Rhett said, stepping out of the bathroom and walking down the hall to their bedroom. I followed behind until they entered the room, waiting at the door. The whole way to bed, her eyes were on mine as she looked over Rhett’s shoulder.
I love you, Genni, I mouthed, hoping she was conscious enough to make out the words.