21. LARRY
21
LARRY
When Kyle comes back in the following day it feels like things have gone back to the way they were when I first started here. He’s being distant and professional, his emails are short and sharp, and I’m completely unsure how to be around him anymore.
I try to strike up conversation with him, try to keep things casual but professional, but he can’t seem to bring himself to look at me—and that hurts more than words can say.
Wesley dropping me off at work this morning was a new sensation. He never used to do that when we lived together, never used to really give me the time of day. I guess that was my first indication the relationship was over in the first place—when he stopped taking an interest, when he stopped wanting to spend extra bits of time with me, when he was always concerned about where I was going to be and when.
I managed to convince myself that it was just him caring, it was him wanting to know when he was going to see me next, when in actual fact he was just trying to figure out when he was going to be able to see Andrew behind my back. And what an absolute kick in the teeth that was.
I knock on Kyle’s door, but he barely looks up from his computer, continuing to click away while I hover in the doorway. He really is handsome. He’s trimmed his beard today and I can see the sharp line under his jaw. And he’s taken a bit of extra time with his hair. It feels like a point of privilege that I’ve seen his hair in all states—gym sweat, steam room, post coital. Here he is presenting the most perfect version of himself, though, and it puts a barrier between us that sets me a little on edge.
“We’ve got that meeting with Taylor and the rest of the exec,” I say. “I circulated the minutes while you were off. You approved them, but I’d be happy to run through them before we go just so you’re up to speed.”
“I read them yesterday,” Kyle says bluntly. He clicks a few more times, his screen going dark in front of his face. “You ready to go now?”
“Yes,” I reply. “I’ll just grab my laptop.”
We make our way to the meeting room in silence, me walking a step or so behind him while he checks his phone on the way in. He greets everyone in the meeting with a smile, with that sweetness I know so well, and it seems to hurt even more that he doesn’t reserve it for me anymore, that it now seems to be for everybody except me.
I sit there in the meeting, taking notes, my blood steadily simmering beneath the surface as I type. Every now and again he’ll look over, checking I’ve got everything down, micromanaging me to the point that I want to snap and lash out, but I don’t. Because the big boss is here, the exec is here. I don’t want to cause a scene.
Well, that’s not totally true. I do want to cause a scene, because if I confront him about this alone I think he’ll act like I’m crazy, and I don’t want that.
The meeting finishes and we start to pack things away.
“Can you hang on for a second?” I ask, and he stops midway through packing up, saying some quick goodbyes to the other members of the exec as they leave the meeting room.
“I’ve got another meeting after this, Larry. Please keep it brief,” he says, his voice short, blunt.
“Why are you being like this?” I ask.
“Being like what?”
“A couple of days ago you literally had sex with me before you walked out the door to work, and suddenly you’re just completely off with me,” I say. “I don’t know what I did wrong, but if you don’t tell me, how on earth am I supposed to fix it or make it better?”
“You want to fix things?”
“Of course I do.”
He looks at me coldly. “Could have fooled me,” he says.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snap. “I come in to work and you’re acting all cold and distant, like we’ve not just spent the last few weeks in and out of each other’s houses getting to know one another quite intimately. I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry I did it, okay? Why are you being like this?”
He sighs. “You didn’t do anything,” he says. “I was… I was trying to be professional. Trying to keep things at work ticking over and to not get us into any more trouble.”
“Any more trouble?” I ask. “What trouble have we got into? We’ve been good haven’t we?”
“Larry—”
“Come on, Kyle, why are you shutting me out again?” I can hear my voice getting shrill, the upset hitching my breath. “I hate this. Talk to me for fuck’s sake.”
“Don’t talk to me like that. I’m supposed to be your boss.”
“Well, you’re doing a shitty job of being my boss and being my boyfriend, so maybe it’s time for a performance review.”
“Larry—”
“Don’t Larry me,” I interrupt. “You act all big and caring and like you’re trying to do what’s best for me, but you’re not telling me what’s going on. You’re just constantly pushing me away the second I get anywhere close to you.”
“That’s not what’s going on,” he says. His face has gone all soft now, those hard edges that were keeping me out fading away, that solid exterior giving way to the Kyle I’ve gotten to know over the past few weeks, the one I’ve been falling for. “I just… I don’t know. I’ve been trying to do the right thing here, but I’m not sure what the right thing is.”
“The right thing is never going to be shutting me out,” I snap, holding on tightly to my resolve. I can’t let him rattle me, can’t let my feelings get in the way of all this. “What are you trying to do?”
He opens his mouth to respond, searching for the words somewhere above my head, but he loses them. And I have to watch as the wall goes back up again, as he rebuilds it brick by brick and leaves me standing outside in the cold.
“I can’t do this anymore,” I say, picking up my things. “If this is how things are going to be, I don’t know if I want to be here anymore. Consider this my resignation, Kyle. I’m gone.”
He doesn’t try to stop me as I walk out of the meeting room, and no one tries to stop me as I pack up my things and make my way out of the building, heading back towards my apartment.
My notice period is a couple of weeks. That should be long enough for me to find something to tide me over. There are coffee shops that need staff in town, maybe Rosemary can throw me a shift or two at the bookshop to keep me afloat so I don’t lose the flat.
Or I’ll just move back in with Wesley.
If he wants to be with me so badly, if he wants to spend time with me, if he’s changed his mind about me… maybe that’s all I deserve.
I make my way up to my apartment, stepping straight inside, and I’m met with a sight that flashes me all the way back to a few months ago.
Wesley in my living room, pants around his ankles, Andrew on his knees in front of the sofa.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I snap.
“I thought you were working all day,” Wesley replies, like it’s some kind of excuse, like I should leave and come back later so the two of them can finish. How inconsiderate of me.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I bark. “After everything we talked about, after you came here and begged for my forgiveness. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I just?—”
“No, that wasn’t a question for you to answer,” I interrupt. “Get the fuck out of my house.”
“What? But Larry, please, look, you have to understand?—”
“I don’t have to understand a fucking thing,” I shout. “I’ve been nothing but understanding. I listened to you telling me that you wanted to be with me again, that you were done with messing around, that you wanted to try things again. I listened, I understood, I was willing to give this another go, and then you have the fucking audacity to come into my house and do this to me again? Get out.”
“Larry—”
“Get out of my house!” I shout.
I wait while he gathers himself and puts his clothes back on, then takes Andrew by the arm and starts to leave.
“What the fuck are you playing at?” I snap. “Did you just come back here so you could fuck me over again?”
He tells Andrew to wait for him outside and then turns back to me. He seems to hesitate before he speaks again, which is enough to set me on edge. “I knew you were seeing someone,” he says. “And I couldn’t handle it.”
I blink. “What?”
“I knew you’d started seeing that guy you work with and… I didn’t want that,” he says, and the way he’s saying it, it’s like he doesn’t realise how fucking mental he sounds. And my blood is boiling, practically overflowing inside me right now. “I didn’t want you to be with anyone else.”
“You got in touch with me because of that?”
“The first time it was because I was bored,” he says. “Then I came to see you, and I saw you out and about with him and it set something off in my brain. I’m sorry. I just… I couldn’t take seeing you all happy like that when…” He looks off to the door. He’s unhappy with Andrew. And maybe that should make me happy, or make me feel somewhat triumphant, because ultimately, he’d left me for Andrew. But it doesn’t. It just makes me feel so unspeakably sad for him.
“Did you tell the place I work about me and Kyle?”
“I thought… I thought it would be the only way to get you back,” he says. “If I ruined things?—”
“Well congratulations, you achieved that,” I snap.
“Larry—”
“No, shut up, stop talking. When I caught you cheating with Andrew, I didn’t know if I’d ever be happy again,” I say. “But I had something with Kyle and I thought… I thought it could be something . I was happy at least. I’m sorry Andrew isn’t making you happy, but I don’t want to be part of whatever sick fucking game you’re playing. So once again I’m telling you to get out of my house.”
He turns but I can’t let him go just yet.
“Key,” I say sharply.
“What?”
“Give me the key I let you borrow,” I say. “I never want to see you again.”
He rummages around in his pocket and hands me the key, somehow still having the audacity to look wounded, to look like I’ve hurt him in some way. I don’t know where he gets off with that, because I should be the one who’s angry, who’s annoyed, who’s wounded, who’s hurt.
But I’m not, somehow. Maybe this is just how things are meant to be.
Maybe I rushed into things with Kyle. I should have just enjoyed being single. I should have let myself just exist in this new place before falling in with someone else. Who says I can’t have another fresh start? There are no rules on how many times you can pick yourself up and start over—and that’s what I’m going to do.
I just have to keep going.