CHAPTER 25
Victor woke early the next morning on Johnny’s couch.
He hadn’t remembered making the choice to stay.
Victor pushed himself to a stand and headed for Johnny’s room.
The door was still shut, and Victor didn’t bother knocking before charging inside.
He expected to find Johnny passed out still, but instead Johnny was sitting on the edge with his head in his hands, or at least he was until he heard the sound of Victor entering.
He straightened and turned, his bloodshot eyes meeting Victor’s with the same pathetic helplessness of a shelter pup staring at you through the kennel bars.
“You’re still here?” Johnny asked, voice soft.
“Wanted to make sure you’d pull through,” Victor replied.
“Oh.” Johnny turned back around, shoulders hunched up around his ears. “Thanks.”
“I guess I can go then,” Victor said, turning to leave. He was halfway across the living room when he heard Johnny’s plea from the bedroom.
“Vic!” Victor stopped and waited for Johnny to shuffle his way into the living room. “Don’t—don’t go.”
“I gotta get home. I have a full schedule today.”
“Yeah, I—” Johnny cut himself off and rubbed his mouth. “I know you’re mad at me. That’s fine. No one’s more mad at me than I am.”
Victor couldn’t think of anything to say, so he didn’t speak.
“I been on a bender since I got back from Fort Worth,” Johnny said miserably to his feet. “That’s why I, uh, haven’t been talkin’ to you.”
“I thought you were upset about the transgender thing.”
“I’m still workin’ through that, but you know, you’re still my best friend. I think. Are you?” When Victor didn’t reply, Johnny swallowed loudly. “Are you, Vic?”
“All I needed from you was a text, something to assure me you weren’t going to end our relationship over my past. I thought you were pissed off about that but instead you were just out drinking.”
“I didn’t know what to say and I didn’t want to send you somethin’ when I was drunk.”
Victor often found himself in the position of wanting to yell at this man as much as he wanted to hold him until all the pain drained out.
What could he say at this point? Johnny didn’t need to be told he was an alcoholic who needed help.
So what was there to discuss? There was nothing Victor could conjure to fix this situation, and Johnny clearly lacked the ability to fix it himself.
“I feel like if you walk out this door, I won’t see you again,” Johnny murmured meekly.
“I did all I could to get sober and I still couldn’t.
I don’t—I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
It’s like there’s this devil inside me I can’t root out.
Every woman but Daisy’s left me because of it.
I put up with Daisy’s cheatin’ cuz I didn’t want to lose her, too.
” Johnny took a step toward Victor, eyes glossy.
He looked like total shit, and Victor could hear the agony in every syllable.
This was the most broken Victor had ever seen him, and as much as Victor would have liked to steel himself against it, he wanted to reach out to him and smooth away the hurt.
When Victor didn’t respond, Johnny continued.
“I really thought I had it this time. I’d never been sober that long, at least since I did rodeo.
When I did rodeo, it was never that bad.
I guess I felt like my life had purpose.
Now…” He lifted an arm and let it drop, gesturing to the rest of the trailer. “Now I ain’t got much.”
“You have a perfectly good life now, even without rodeo. You have a niece that looks up to you. You’ve got your friends, you’ve got me. Isn’t that enough?”
“I still gotta live in this goddamn house.” Johnny glanced around the living room with wild eyes.
“This house where my dad beat me in every room but the one I currently sleep in.” His voice broke toward the end and he took a moment to compose himself, swiping a hand under his nose.
“I think he’s the devil inside me. The only way I keep him quiet is by drinkin’. ”
“Your father was an abusive asshole. Sell the house and live the life he would have hated. Make him spin in his damn grave.”
“You say that like it’s easy.”
“Is this easier?” Victor snapped. “Is losing yourself in booze and trash while the people you love abandon you easy?”
“Of course it’s not! But fuck, it’s all I know. I know how to survive with barely nothin’ and that’s it. You wouldn’t get it. You grew up with money and parents who loved you.”
“I don’t have to understand this to be against it. I—I care about you, Johnny. More than I should. More you than you deserve, maybe. I don’t want anyone I care about to live like this, and I don’t want to see them the way I saw you last night.”
Johnny shrunk backward, slightly hunched. “I don’t deserve that consideration. I know that. I’m a real piece of shit sometimes.”
“I don’t want you to feel sorry for yourself. I want you to feel like you deserve better. Better than Daisy, better than being cheated on. I want you to try to be someone who doesn’t just—” Victor considered his words but pushed ahead anyway “—someone who doesn’t break my damn heart all the time.”
Johnny’s face twisted with hurt before he looked away, then down at his feet. His Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed, but for once he had nothing to say.
“You’re the most frustrating person I’ve ever met,” Victor continued, “so if I didn’t care about you, I would have been gone months ago.
Even with your flaws, you’ve got a big heart that’s always in the right place, and that’s not an easy find.
I mean Christ, my own mother had a worse reaction to me coming out than you did. I didn’t talk to her for months.”
“Vic, I…” Johnny began, then trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck.
“I know I talk a lot but I ain’t very good at talkin’ ‘bout my feelin’s and all that…
so maybe I won’t say this right, but half the reason I tried as hard as I did to get sober is cuz your reaction to the state of my house felt like a real kick in the nuts.
I didn’t want Sarah or my sister knowin’, but to be honest, I’d already disappointed them both a thousand times over.
But you still respected me, and I hated that you had to see my life for what it was.
This feels like that again, ‘cept now I’m worried you’ll leave me once and for all and I’ll have no one.
I want to fight, but most of my fightin’ spirit’s gone. ”
“I don’t want you to fight. That’s your dad talking. Not everything has to be a damn fight. I want you to give up, actually. I want you to stop being so damn proud because it’s killing you. You’re trying to be this person you aren’t.”
“I ain’t tryin’ to be anyone but myself.”
“Christ, Johnny. You just told me about what you did as a kid when you ran away from home just to afford to live. I was the first person you told that to? Why would you hide that sort of thing from everyone?”
“Ain’t nobody’s business.”
“Cut the shit. It affected you, and it’s still affecting you.
I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, and still I know so little about it.
You’ve kept stuff like this from people because you don’t think anyone cares, or because you’re afraid people will judge you.
But the fight you’ll always lose is the fight against yourself.
Trust me, I would know. For years I ignored the little voices and the deep feelings of inadequacy until I started wishing I was dead.
I had big dreams about what my future would look like from childhood, and I had to give all that up because I knew I’d never survive if I went down that path.
My dad had just died when I called off my wedding, because I couldn’t do it anymore.
I couldn’t pretend to be someone I wasn’t.
And it fucking hurt, because doing so meant I lost the love of my life, too.
What did I get for my sacrifice? A society that hates me?
Secrets I can’t tell? A family who I had to constantly teach because they couldn’t manage the most basic of accommodations?
They still say dumb shit to me, and I have to take it, because I know fighting them won’t change anything.
Against all that, how can anyone say my choice to be my authentic self made sense?
But it was worth it. I feel peace in a way I can’t describe, a sense of…
I dunno, oneness with my body that I never had growing up.
I had to get a new dream and a new life, but I wouldn’t trade it for what I had ten years ago.
“So yeah, I get it that you’re scared of how the world will see you if you decide to just accept the things about yourself you can’t change, but your dad’s dead and you’re not, so there’s only one person you have to live for.”
Victor sucked in a breath, having spoken for longer than he planned.
There was a heavy silence between them for a second, at least before Johnny closed the space and placed his hands on either side of Victor’s face like he might kiss him.
Before he did, Victor slapped a hand on his chest and leaned back.
“You are not kissing me until you brush your teeth,” he said firmly, and Johnny snorted and started laughing, pulling away.
“Alright, alright.” Johnny’s laugh faded into a sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. “But you don’t know how good you look when you get all passionate.”
“Are you even listening to me?”
“Yeah, I heard ya. You’ve given me lots to think about.
I never thought about it as givin’ up instead of fightin’.
Makes a lotta sense.” He paused, a small smile playing on his lips.
“I’m glad you chose to be yourself. I don’t know what you looked like as a woman, but you sure are a good lookin’ man. ”
“I’m glad that’s what you gleaned from my heartfelt confession.”
Johnny tossed an arm over Victor’s shoulders and squeezed him in a half hug. “Aww, come on now, where’s your sense of humor?”