Chapter 16 Jericho
JERICHO
This was a bad idea. I think to myself as I pace my parents’ living room, wearing a pattern in the carpet from dragging my feet across it so many times.
My parents aren’t going to be back until later, they went out with Ema and Rodney to a new restaurant the next town over.
I need Raiden gone by the time they get back, because I don’t want to try and explain why I’m seeing him after all these years.
It's an unspoken agreement between my parents and I that Raiden is off limits. I don’t want to hear about him, see him, or even think about him. It’s been working out so far.
Why this? Why now? After all this time, it should be easy for me to ignore his messages and move on. To not care about him the way he so obviously does not care about me.
The doorbell rings, and I freeze. My limbs lock up and I can’t move. I wait with bated breath to see how this plays out. To see if he’ll walk away so easily like he’s done multiple times before.
The hinges on the door squeak, and the darkness that has enclosed the world seeps in from the open door.
I hate how early the sun sets now, leaving everything dark and dreary.
Not even a shred of light can be seen from the outside.
Raiden shuts the door behind him, encapsulating the two of us in our own bubble. Away from the outside world.
He lifts his hand in an awkward wave, the metal bangles he has on his wrist hit together with the movement, the light tinkling noise echoing through the silent house.
I stay rooted in place, drinking him in like a man with an insatiable thirst that only he can provide.
His hair is auburn now, the strands stealing the overhead light and creating a halo effect around his head.
Everything else about him is still the same, from the confident stature to the outfit he has on.
A loose fitting, silky black top, slightly falling off his left shoulder and showing off his smooth skin and his collarbone protruding from his skin.
The pants he has on stick to him, the deep plum collar a pop of color to contrast his outfit.
He’s dressed for a night on the town, a date night at a fancy restaurant with wine glasses served by waiters wearing coattails.
“Hi.”
I stay silent, watching him as he walks closer to me. I expect him to walk right up to me, but he doesn't. Instead, he goes to the couch and sits on it, crossing his legs and resting his arms across them.
“Can you sit? It might make it easier to talk.” His voice is gentle, hypnotizing. Convincing me to do his bidding with a single uttered syllable.
I sit, leaving a gap between us so I’m not tempted to do something stupid.
I try to relax my body, making myself appear comfortable even though I'm anything but.
The tension radiating through my limbs is exhausting to hold onto, my body is in fight or flight mode right now waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Raiden takes a deep breath, twisting the loose fabric of his shirt in his hands, wrinkling the expensive material. The wrinkle appears between his forehead, a slight divot that I want to massage out, take away whatever is causing him stress.
This close I can see his irises are not brown—the distinct blue color stands out against his skin. There’s a small ring of brown surrounding his pupil, the colored contacts don’t do that good of a job trying to cover up his eyes. I don’t know if it’s a good or bad thing.
“I talked to my mom, and she’s letting me move back in with her and dad.
” His chuckle is self-deprecating and I watch as he wipes a stray tear away from his cheek.
My heart twists watching the pain on his face, before I push the ache away.
It’s not my place to feel bad for him. “I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’m just going to blurt it out.
” He exhales noisily from his nose, the slight whistling a flashback from the past when he would cry and I would be the one to comfort him.
Offering him tissues and drying his tears as he would tell me what’s wrong.
He’s always been so full of feelings, too full at times.
“I left Josh, about a year ago. I couldn’t tell anyone and neither could he.
The NDA we both signed for my dance company agreed we would keep silent until they approved it.
It would make their reputation look bad.
Like giving me a chance to be a dancer was something they did as a favor and I should feel grateful that they even hired me.
” Raiden shakes his head, standing up and pacing the confined space of my parents living room, running his fingers through his hair and yanking on the ends.
“What a load of bullshit that was, they told me they would never let me announce it. It looks bad for their brand.”
I sit there, just listening and watching him as he grieves the life he could have had.
When he turns his head, a glare comes from the bottom of his lip. A piercing. He had a needle shoved through his soft flesh and a dainty metal ball now decorates the underneath of his plump mouth.
“It looks bad because a gay man,” the way he spits out gay has me flinching, “wants to divorce another man who has been making his life a living hell for years. Years, Jericho. I thought I would finally be able to get away, to start over and actually get another chance to enjoy life. Instead, I’m dealing with homophobia because gay men aren’t allowed to get divorced in their eyes. ”
I cut him off, not sure what I have to do with this.
“I’m sorry?” I offer pathetically because if I remember right, he has chosen Josh, multiple times.
He ran from me straight into Josh’s arm.
I still feel the bitterness inside of me, tainting my happiness for years after he left.
I thought there was something wrong with me. I wasn’t enough.
“No, no. God, no, Jericho. It’s not your fault, and I don’t need an apology.
I was an asshole to you, and I’m still one.
Asking to talk to you when I know I have no right, but I didn’t know what else to do.
” He shrugs helplessly, tilting his head back to the ceiling and letting his head rest on his neck while he inhales and exhales, sucking up all of the oxygen in the room.
“I told the dance company I was done. And I told Josh I’m announcing it publicly tomorrow. ”
“That’s good, you deserve to be happy.”
He lifts his head and glares at me and I freeze, not sure what the right course of action is right now. Even through the blue, his brown irises burn bright.
“Why are you trying to be nice? You should hate me. You should be the one who has been praying for my downfall more than anyone else. I’ve hurt you, multiple times.”
I know! I want to scream, to rage and destroy this house and everything in it. I want to know why. Why he’s done the things that he has, and why he’s waited so long to acknowledge it. But I can’t, because that’s not what I feel when I see him in pain. “That’s not me.”
“I know it’s not. I know it's not you. I wish it was though. I wish you would get mad, to tell me to fuck off and never talk to you again.” He looks at me, his eyes fragile and coated with tears, the two tracks of sleek diamonds leaking out of them and smearing his makeup.
“But I’m selfish when it comes to you, and I’m glad you agreed to talk to me. ”
“So what happens now?” I change the subject, trying to ignore the slight butterflies I get when he says he’s selfish when it comes to me. It's toxic, the same ownership I used to feel about him, reflected back in how he feels about me.
“The label says if I do it, I will lose my contract. Everything I’ve worked for and all the money I have because of them will be gone.
Poof,” he spreads his hands in a disappearing motion and laughs loudly, the sound maniacal and unhinged.
“After everything I’ve accomplished, it will all be gone.
Just like that. Any chance I have at dancing again will be gone with it too.
I’ll be blacklisted and never allowed in Hollywood again. ”
I don’t say anything, because there’s nothing I can say. Nothing I can offer and anything I have will fall flat. His mind is made up, it's obvious to me as he slumps back onto the cushion on the end of the couch.
The one question that has been eating at me bursts through my lips before I’m ready.
I want to grab them and swallow them back down.
The one hint of closure I’ve been needing for the last five years to be able to move on.
The answer I’ve craved in the silence of nights when I haven’t been able to sleep.
The wish on stars in the desert. Words I needed to hear when thunderstorms would roll and lightning cracked outside.
“Why did you leave? That day at graduation?” He swallows loudly, a slight sob breaking free from his chest as he buries his head in his hands. Raiden’s shoulders shake and I stare at him. Waiting for something, anything.
“I was scared to lose you,” he finally whispers and my mind shuts off.
You lost me anyway.
“Josh cornered me, after graduation. He saw the kiss, and he made me feel awful about it. He said I was using you. That it was my M.O. to rely on you when I didn’t have anyone else.
Everything he said made sense, Jer. I did use you, every time I needed something, you were there.
You never questioned or made me feel guilty.
You deserved more than me relying on you to be at my beck and call. ”
He’s right, I did deserve better. And I found it. I have a life I love. Friends who I see often enough I never feel neglected. A job that gives me purpose and keeps me going day to day. A boyfriend I adore, and who cares for me. I have everything I’ve ever wanted.
But a part of me is still missing, my soul is existing outside of my body.
That’s his fault. I want to hate him, to stand on the sidelines and do nothing as he watches his world crumble around him.
He is losing everything and is going to have nothing.
He’s going to experience the same thing I did when he left me.
And I still can’t hate him for it. I still want to protect him.
I’ve learned my lesson though, from the countless times we’ve been through this before. I can be his friend, and keep my distance. I can protect myself, keep him close enough to help him as well.
“What do you need from me?”
He scoots closer to me, and I stand up, refusing to be the shoulder he leans on. If I’m going to keep the distance, I need to show him right off the back where my boundaries are.
He seems to realize his fuck up, he doesn’t try to stand and approach me again. “Sorry,” he says, forlornly staring at the space I vacated.
“I’ll grab us a drink, and I need to call my boyfriend.” I leave him on the couch, going to the kitchen and grabbing both of us one of my dad’s beers from the crisper, cracking the tops open with one hand while I dial Liam with the other.
The phone rings for so long I think his voicemail is going to pick up. I mentally prepare myself for the message I’m about to leave when the ringing cuts off and his voice is on the line. “Hey, I have a quick minute, what’s up?”
My mouth dries and I take a swig of beer to wet my throat and help the words out. “I just wanted to call and let you know I’m at my parents’. Raiden is here and he’s going through some things right now.”
“He’s at your parents’ house? Right now?” Liam’s voice is skeptical, and I can hear the loud sounds from the gym echoing in the background.
“Yeah, he asked if we could talk…” And now I’m realizing how this probably sounds to my boyfriend, who knows my history with Raiden. “I promise nothing has happened,” I assure him quickly.
His exhale is annoyed, the sound quick and over before I can acknowledge it. “It’s fine, Jericho. I know that you two are friends, even after everything. I’m not going to fault you for caring about him still.”
“Just as friends though, we’re just friends. I’m with you now, Liam. And I never want to give you a reason to doubt me.” The pit in my stomach widens, the nausea building and growing until my mouth waters with saliva.
“I’ll never doubt you. I trust you.”
I exhale a relieved breath and ask, “How’s your shift going?”
“I wish I could say awful, but this client is so nice. She’s older, and I think she needs a friend.
At least, that’s the way she’s talking to me.
There’s a lot of drama going on in her crocheting club and she’s been dying to tell someone about it.
Now I have beef with a seventy year old woman named Brownie.
How fucked is that?” His chuckle causes my own, the contagious sound ringing happily in my ears.
“Well if you have beef with her, as your boyfriend, so do I. I’m going to learn how to crochet just to upstage her.”
“I’ll tell Martha, I’m sure she’ll be so happy to know we’re both on her side.”
He continues to talk to me, and I listen as he lays out the training he’s been putting her through. Easy workouts, mostly focused on balance activities more than agility or muscle building. He’ll work her up to muscle building, he says and I hear Martha smarting off to him in the background.
“I gotta go, but do you want to come by later? I’ll grab dinner.”
My stomach grumbles and I quickly agree. We hang up, and I tuck my phone into my pocket before grabbing both the beers off the counter. I turn to walk back towards the living room, and almost drop them. Raiden is standing there, staring at me with an odd expression on his face.
“Jesus fucking Christ, you scared the shit out of me. Since when did you get so sneaky?”
“I’ve always been sneaky. How many times did I maneuver my way out of my bedroom window and into yours?”
Too many times to count, but I always left it unlocked just in case he wanted to come over. We would spend hours together in my room, laying on my bed underneath the covers and watching movies on my tv.
“That was forever ago,” I remark easily, offering him the beer. His fingers graze mine, the cold digits shocking me and causing a tingle to form in the tips and travel up my arm.
“I still remember most of my tricks.” He flicks his wrist up, checking the time on his watch. “My parents are going to be home soon, so I should probably get out of here. Can we talk tomorrow?” His voice is pleading, and I’m nodding before I even know what I’m fully agreeing to.
“Thanks, Jer.” Raiden takes another sip of his beer, and I walk him to the front door, shutting and locking it as soon as he crosses the threshold.
What the fuck did I just agree to?