59. Brogan
Isat there staring at the cell phone I knew wouldn’t ring. The only person I ever really even talked to nowadays was Enslee, and we’d talked for over two hours earlier.
“You know if you keep on this path, you're going to end up a bitter old man. You don't want to end up like your father,” she’d said.
“I’ll never be like Stanley Sinclair.”
“Are you sure? He had no forgiveness for his son, and you now have no forgiveness for the man you love.”
“He’d betrayed me,” I’d reminded her.
“He’d been trying to help your relationship. He never set out to deceive you. Are you really that upset about it still after everything’s over and done with?”
I'd thrown my hands up. “I don't fucking know anything anymore. Each day, I'm just going through the motions. I sleep, work, brood, sleep, work, brood.”
“It doesn't have to be that way. Even if you can’t forgive him just yet, you could at least talk to him.”
“I doubt he's waiting around pining for me.”
“You’d be surprised, Brogan. I know this because I’ve talked to him as well. The two of you are so alike, including your unflappable stubbornness. One of you has got to make the next move.”
“I don't know why you're so invested in us.”
“Because I love you both, and I just want you to be happy.”
“I could be happy without him.”
“Interesting, because you’re not.”
It wasn't long after that she’d gotten off the phone.
Since then, those words still lingered in my head.
If I could be happy without Declan, why wasn't I? I knew that answer. As time ticked away and I agonized over what to do, I finally picked up my cell phone. I didn’t plan to call him, but I wanted to look at his social media.
Unfortunately, Declan rarely ever posted anything, but I could see all the posts he was tagged in.
There were various paparazzi shots, and I even saw quite a few from the New Year's Rockin’ Eve party.
As I looked closer, maybe Enslee was right.
While he'd had a smile on his face and looked as if everything was right in his world, I knew better. There was something in his eyes. Knowing this man like I did, maybe he was as unhappy without me as I was without him. It wasn’t like Enslee had any reason to lie. Still, I had too much fucking pride.
Getting up, I decided to take out my excess frustration and energy in my home gym.
Going into the bedroom, I quickly changed into a pair of gym shorts, then put on some socks and sneakers before heading across my penthouse.
I had pretty much every type of machine I could need, including benches.
None of those appealed to me, so I decided to just use the punching bag tonight to release more of my pent-up anger.
I was angry I couldn't stop missing Declan.
I was angry we’d ever fought to begin with.
And I was angry over being unable to bring myself to pick up the phone to call him.
And I was angry that I was so goddamned fucking angry in general.
After putting on a hard rock playlist to keep me in this mood, I grabbed my gloves and slipped my hands into them.
For the next half hour, I took turns doing quick jabs, slow jabs, and even using my feet and my legs.
By the time I was done, I was soaked in sweat but still as wired as before because this had done little to exhaust me.
When futility set in, I returned to my bedroom and stared at my California King bed.
It seemed so much larger with just me in it.
Once upon a time, Declan would have been here with me.
Even now, I could see the two of us together.
Not wanting to see those visions, I moved to the window to look outside at the skyscrapers.
The rain from earlier had now turned to snow.
This was the exact type of night Declan and I would’ve spent lying in that large bed together, making use of every inch of it.
This time, I was unable to stop the flood of memories from rushing back. I could feel the slight hardening of my cock. Additional anger was still present because I was tired of thinking about him and using my hand to get myself off.
There’s no Declan. There’s no Enslee.
Surprisingly, there was no one else I’d even consider having sex with outside of the two of them.
I was tired of feeling this desperate and pathetic, so ignoring the painful state of my cock, I got undressed and went to shower.
I kept my hands above my waist, refusing to touch myself.
In order to accomplish that feat, I pushed all thoughts of Declan and Enslee from my head, which was easier to think than actually do.
Instead of my former lovers, I thought about my father.
If there was anyone who’d kill any mood within me, it’d be him.
He'd reached out to me over Christmas expressing his desire to spend time together, but I had nothing left to say to him. In fact, after the signing over of the shares, I’d ghosted him entirely.
The board at Sinclair Pharmaceuticals had given me a few issues in the beginning, but even they’d finally come around.
I now controlled the company I’d prepared my whole life to run, and I'd also just been granted FDA approval on one of the first drugs I’d worked on.
Things were looking up for me professionally, but elsewhere, they just continued to crash down around me.
It’d been decades since I’d had a mother.
Almost two to be exact. And although it’d just been two months without Declan, it’d felt like a lifetime.
I’d finished washing up, then I dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt before walking into the living room.
It was now snowing heavily outside. As I stood near the windows and placed my palms on the glass, I leaned heavily against it.
All I could think about was how it’d only been two weeks into this new year, and it was already the worst one of my life. And that was saying something considering how the year before had been with my arrest. While literal bars no longer imprisoned me, the ones in my head were impenetrable.
Starting this year off utterly alone seemed worse.
Yes, there’d been periods of time when Declan hadn't been around for holidays in the past, but I'd always had him to talk to. And the truth was that while he’d been my lover, he'd also been my best friend. I couldn't remember a time when he hadn’t been there. I'd always loved and needed him, although there’d been one other time in my life when I’d tried to forget him.
Initially, my father's threats had worked, but once in college and in the same dorm, those feelings of anger ignited a passion within me. It’d been inevitable that my lips would be back on his, and there’d been no one there to stop us.
All I’d been able to think about were the various porn videos I’d been made to watch.
Back then, I’d imagined Declan in them with me so I could distract myself from the torture.
In college, I no longer needed to do that.
Once I’d realized his feelings for me were unchanged from before, I’d taken it further.
From that moment on, we'd never gone more than a couple of days without speaking to one another. Maybe the time in prison had made it easier because once I got out, I busied myself with work and taking my frustrations out on my gym equipment. I’d also been an asshole to anyone around me, which included Enslee.
She wasn't there in person, but she was in spirit. Even on the phone, she’d remained irritatingly persistent.
She now laughed at that description, but I'd been right about her that first night.
Only now it didn't bother me like it had then.
There was nothing she wanted more than for me and Declan to patch things up.
And she made it sound so easy that sometimes I almost wondered if I could really do it.
Moving away from the window to the couch, I picked back up my cell phone.
In my pathetic desperation, I still had Google Alerts on, so I constantly checked in during the day.
Before I could do so now, I got a chime signaling something else about Declan.
I was a glutton for punishment because I pulled it up, and as my gaze skimmed across the article, his hit show was on hiatus, so he was about to make another movie.
My mind raced back to the many times he’d gone to shoot on location in the past. Sometimes, he'd be gone upwards of three or four months, and the very thought of him being gone that long again made our time apart seem so much longer.
I cursed a blue streak, then thought about calling him.
Why the hell am I sitting here miserable? If Enslee’s right, is he doing the same?
I could understand why he didn't reach out to me with the news. It wasn’t as if I had given him any indication that I’d ever speak to him again, much less forgive him.
He knew I wasn’t a “forgive and forget” type of person.
I was a “fuck me once, shame on you. Fuck me twice. Shame on me” person, and he'd essentially fucked me twice. My anger was no longer even over him going behind my back to pay my fake fiancée to dump me. I’d been thrilled over the dissolution of that wretched union.
It’d been the way he’d done it. Still, I loved him.
“When you love somebody, nothing’s impossible,” Enslee had told me more than once.
God, how is this woman real?
She’d become the voice of reason in my head. As this restlessness inside of me continued to build and showed no sign of lessening, I scrolled through my contacts with my finger. As it hovered over his name, I was tempted to press it but didn’t.