Chapter 31 Cord
Cord
“I did the tantric workshop,” argued Cord. “I did the ‘Swipe Right into My Arms’ ballroom dancing class! I thought I’d at least get my phone after dinner.”
“Ballroom dancing was awkward,” admitted Giovanni. “And the nutrient-dense loaf at dinner…” He winced, then went to the bed and picked up the cat toy. “Meow,” purred Gio. “Come here, kitten.”
“Look, Gio. I just need my phone for a few minutes. What if something’s happened to my mom? Or your mom? I just want to scroll the news…just for twenty minutes? I should check in with the Sweethearts team about the IPO….”
“You are not,” pronounced Giovanni, using the feather toy to punctuate his statement, “as important as you think you are, Cord!”
“That’s not very nice,” Cord responded, stung. “I’m just going to go check in with humanity and then I’ll lock up the phone again and come back.”
“Cord! This—This is humanity!” Gio gestured to the bed, the tea, and the sexy snacks with the feathered cat toy. “Here I am!”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Cord lifted his hands, penitent but resolute. “I have a job, Gio. We have elderly mothers!”
Giovanni scoffed. “The theater kids at Dalton think I have the norovirus,” he said. “And I told my family I was going on a wellness retreat and I’d call in ten days. You can do this, Cord.”
“Oh, I see. I should tell the Sweethearts team I won’t check in about the IPO because I’m sick?”
“Whatever you have to do,” said Giovanni.
“I’ve been literally shaking all day,” Cord disclosed.
Giovanni nodded. “Detoxing,” he said, in a know-it-all tone that made Cord want to slug him.
“I drank all my hidden nips already.”
“Let’s go get a DVD and some popcorn from the Fun Library,” said Giovanni, perusing the Return to Love daily planner. “Or we can stargaze with Sheila, arrange flowers with Pam, or have sex!”
“I used to read books,” mused Cord, staring out the Kottage window at the impossibly black sky. “I’d open a book and just…read it.”
“Imagine,” said Giovanni dryly, crossing his arms over his chest.
But all Cord could imagine was the dozens—hundreds—of electronic notifications surely shining on his phone, ready to prime his dopamine transmitters to pump out some of that serenity, that buzzy calm.
He yearned to check his phone. He desired his phone more than his Giovanni, and that was, he knew, a problem.
The only other way he knew to soothe himself was booze.
“Go for a long, hard run,” his AA friends would say. “Do an insane kettlebell class!” Neither worked for Cord.
He knew Giovanni was trying to salvage their relationship. And he did not want to be alone. He loved Giovanni, truly and forever. He was just a damn mess. But he had to try—he had to try. “Can we snuggle?” asked Cord.
“Come here,” said Giovanni. He lifted their coverlet and patted the soft sheets, smiling. Cord crawled into the cozy spot next to the love of his life. He tried to rest.