Chapter 36
Breakups, I’d now had the horrid pleasure of experiencing, were akin to the five stages of grief. And that wasn’t me being melodramatic because I researched it. Thoroughly. Love songs were sad for a reason. Classic romances were tragedies best read, not lived.
Love fucking sucked.
In the weeks after Asher walked away, ripping my heart out in the process and leaving me confused at how in the hell things went so badly so quickly, I’d had my share of those grief stages.
Denial was fleeting. I wasn’t even sure if I could call it denial, though. It hurt too much to be anything but true.
Asher had shown me his cards. He’d manned up, and in a precious few moments during the aftermath, I was so proud of him.
Not once had he ever been anything but authentic.
Okay, well, him being Ashley notwithstanding, but even then, he was himself by another name.
I shouldn’t have expected anything less than him taking life by the horns and going for what he believed in, what he knew to be right for him.
Anger came next and stuck around for a few awful days.
I was pissed at everything. Life, Asher …
Why had he shown me heaven only to drop me into hell?
How cruel. Why had he teased me with acceptance only to throw it back in my face?
Asher had given me himself, his heart, his body, his laughter, his hopes, his family, his world, and then snatched it all away.
I should never have agreed to dating him in secret or as Ashley in public.
I’d set us both up. I got comfortable. I’d allowed myself dreams of a future I’d never dared to wish for.
I’d cursed him in my thoughts. Then, with sudden clarity, I cursed myself.
I was the issue, not him. Asher had been perfect.
He’d given me a taste of life. Ignorance was bliss, they said, but knowledge led to change.
The third stage, bargaining, caught me in a tailspin.
I ran through so many what-if scenarios I’d been dizzy.
What if I gave in to my family? My parents would be thrilled.
If I couldn’t have Asher, then it didn’t matter who I ended up with.
No one would compare. No one would draw smiles from me like breath from my lungs.
No one would capture my mind and imagination until no corner was left untouched.
No one would look into my eyes and see me the way he had so easily.
And that ushered in depression. No one would be the same to me as Asher had been. No one would own my heart, not even close, so what was the point? What was the point in anything?
I’d been dodging calls from my mother since Asher broke up with me, but she left messages I tortured myself with by listening to. I deserved the punishment.
The Georgina ship had sailed. Mother went on and on in her passive-aggressive way, then turned unwanted interference into setting me up with other women. She could keep filling my voicemail, but it wouldn’t change anything. Nothing would, except the one person who didn’t want me anymore.
My assistant, bless his heart, had been feeding me notices on where my father was and when he was heading my way.
I’d conveniently been “out to meetings” or “in the restroom” whenever he stopped by, but that couldn’t last forever.
Eventually, I’d have to face my parents.
The question would be with what? Acquiescence or rebellion?
“I’m taking you to lunch, and you can’t say no,” William announced as he walked into my office on … Wait, what day was it?
I’d moved from my desk chair to the window at some point.
The Cressmann downtown skyline wasn’t as impressive in daylight, but I wasn’t looking for inspiration.
I’d been staring at the same numbers for an hour or more and only seeing his face, his smile.
However, the change in elevation didn’t make him go away.
“No,” I said to the window.
He’d been telling the truth, though. William didn’t take my no and physically pulled me from my office, taking me to one of our favorite haunts nearby. A dimly lit tavern with great food and even better spirits that I couldn’t taste.
“Gym after work?”
“No,” I answered William with the same enthusiasm I’d said no to catching dinner, clubbing, and heading to a strip club because somehow, he knew I was in a breakup.
Perhaps there was a look no one talked about.
Like when people were happy or sad, they had set expressions people knew by name.
Maybe I wore the breakup without realizing it.
“Fuck, man. How’d you screw this up?” He was trying to lift my spirits, trying to get me to laugh. I had no doubt Asher would’ve already succeeded.
I lifted my gaze from the soup I’d let turn cold to my best friend. But could I call him that? Did he know me at all?
His hopeful smile fell.
“Did she mean that much to you?” he asked.
“He.” And that was it. One word. Simple. Common, even, but meaningful.
“Pardon?” William leaned forward.
“He,” I said again. Louder, surer. Was there ever a right time for this? Maybe, but right could also mean now. It was as good as any, and compared to what I’d already endured, this was easy.
Perspective, yet again.
Even without him, Asher was my teacher. Now, he’d given me the ultimate lesson. If I could survive without him, then I could survive anything. Even this. Even coming out, something I’d hidden for twenty years.
“I was dating a man.”
He scrunched his brows and cocked his head. “What are you saying right now? You’re gay?”
I nodded.
“Since when?”
“Always.”
The tilt of his head deepened as he stared.
I stared back, not knowing how this would go, but honestly, I didn’t care.
It took four stages of breakup to realize I’d already taken my hardest step in coming out.
I had allowed someone in. I had opened my heart to a man, to someone I could love.
I’d given in to the emotion I’d been taught to hide.
This, coming out to William, wasn’t insignificant, but it wasn’t the evil I’d tricked myself into believing.
I couldn’t control how he reacted. I couldn’t control anyone but myself. Yet I’d let others do it for me for far too long.
God, hindsight was a nasty bitch.
Finally, he snorted and lifted one corner of his mouth into that sly grin. “Well, this explains a shit ton.”
“You mad?”
“Maybe.” He shrugged, then waved it away. “Nah. I’ve got a cousin who’s gay. Not saying I can relate, but he had a hard time coming out.”
I snickered. “A cousin?”
“Yeah.”
I sucked in my lips to keep from laughing.
“What?” William asked.
“Nothing. Really. Just remembering something.”
“So you two broke up?”
That was it? “You’re okay with this?”
“With what?”
I waved toward myself. “Me being gay.”
“Dude. That hurts. You think I’d care”—he glanced around, then lowered his voice—“where you stick your dick?”
I blinked. “Uh, yeah, guess I had thought that.”
“That I can get pissed about. We’re friends, man. I don’t care about that shit. I care about when you’re unhappy, though. What happened?”
I dropped my head and sighed. “I fucked up.”
“Figured. Any more details you want to share?”
I shook my head. “No, no point in it. He needed me to be stronger than I am.”
William pursed his lips. “Stronger than you are, or stronger than you think you are?”
I snorted. “You sound like him.”
“Like this guy alrea— Wait, the nineteen-year-old was a guy?”
I nodded.
“Fuck.” He wiped a hand down his face. “Jesus, I remember myself at nineteen. Not that I’m trying to be up in your sex life, but shit. I dunno. Somehow, I’m more impressed you’re banging a guy that young instead of a girl.”
“Was,” I corrected him.
“Right. So what’re you going to do about it?”
“What can I do? He ended it. I won’t harass him.”
William laughed, then signaled our waitress over.
“What else I can get you two?” she asked, all smiles and pink cheeks when William winked her way.
“Two whiskeys, neat, please, hon.”
“You got it.”
I raised a brow. A bit early for drinking, but then again, I wasn’t sleeping anyway. Each miserable hour in the day was the same. So what the fuck ever.
He waited until our drinks were brought, then said, “Since you’re new at relationships, I’m gonna give you a quick lesson in breakup etiquette.”
I waved him on. “By all means.”
“It’s not harassment, for one thing. After a breakup, all social rules are on a bit of a rocky slope, if you will.
As long as the words ‘never want to see you again’ or ‘come near me and I’ll call the police’ weren’t used, then you’re good.
The longer you wait, the worse it’ll be.
If you want him back, you’ve got to prove it. ”
“Okay. Well, of course I want him back. What should I do? Go marching across campus with a boom box on my shoulder?”
“Old-school. I like it, but would he? Do something meaningful. Do something maybe only you and he will understand the significance of.”
I sat back and spun my glass. What would Asher like? Honestly, a lot of things came to mind, but what would prove, more than anything, how much I wanted him back?
I snapped my fingers, sitting forward, more alive than I’d been in weeks. “The Sweetheart Rose Ball.”
William narrowed his eyes but nodded. “Very public. Very romantic. Very much sponsored by your mother’s philanthropy efforts.”
“Exactly. It’s perfect.”
“What’s your plan?”
“I’ll have to work out the details, but first, I’ve got a few more conversations like this to get through.”
“Mary and Paul?”
I nodded.
“Good. They’ll support you, just maybe keep your sexcapades out of the conversation.”
“You brought it up.”
William smirked and lifted one shoulder. “Eh, whatever. Don’t shame me for living vicariously through you.”
Something no one said ever.
Before we left lunch, I texted both my siblings to meet for dinner this week. The Sweetheart Rose was yet another event for our social circle and held the second Saturday in February every year. A ball where huge donations were negotiated to help children’s hospitals across the southeast.
With just under two weeks to plan, Mary, if she didn’t reject me after my news, would help in preparing a night I hoped Asher would never forget. If it all went well, it would also prove I meant business about being true to myself. And about being all in, completely in love with him, in public.
“Are you dying?” Paul asked when I had them seated in a cozy corner at the same—what had Asher called it, bougie?—burger place the night we met.
“No, but you’ll probably end up splitting my inheritance as if I had.”
Mary gripped Paul’s shoulder. “Tell us what this is about.”
Since coming out to William, this was much easier for some reason. Voice even with no hint of how my lungs quivered, I laid my napkin across my lap and said, “I’m gay. I’m in love with a man. Our parents will most definitely disown me, but I hope you two remain my siblings.”
They blinked a few times, but it was Mary who broke the silence with a squeal as she shook Paul’s shoulder.
“This is awesome. I’m so happy for you. Oh my God. I can’t believe this.” She stopped suddenly, her expression falling. “Oh no. I think I’m happier for you than for my own love life. Should I break up with Truman?”
Paul and I jolted at the same time, mostly just startled by her outburst.
“I dunno,” I said. “Should you?”
“I think I should.”
“You both realize you’re making me look like the good child,” Paul said. He was only joking. All three of us had been good children, too brainwashed and manipulated to be otherwise.
“I’m not trying to make either of you do anything crazy,” I said. “I’ve just come to a point where I want to let you both know more about me, and this is a huge part of who I am, but it doesn’t define who I am.”
Mary sighed and batted her long lashes. “It’s so romantic. You’re coming out for him, aren’t you.”
“No.” I cleared my throat and hated how I couldn’t break that habit. “Actually, he broke up with me.”
“And you’re doing this to win him back?” Paul narrowed his eyes.
“No. Well, not exactly. Before he broke it off, I was so close to telling Mother and Father. I didn’t. I chickened out. I walked away from them angry and telling myself not to use my sexuality as a weapon to get back at them.”
“Smart,” Mary said as Paul nodded.
“Then I fucked up with Asher, and he called it off.”
“Wait.” Paul lifted his hand. “Asher?” He widened his eyes. “You mean Ashley?” He laughed, not waiting for me to confirm his suspicion. “I knew that was a dude. Jesus.”
“What?” Mary said, all innocent and oblivious.
“Mary, my dear sister. Our older brother is into some kinky shit.”
“We can stop talking about this now,” I deadpanned.
“Ashley, the pretty girl he brought to the New Year’s Eve dinner, is a guy. The guy,” Paul said to Mary.
I nodded when she only blinked in my direction.
“Oh my,” Mary whispered as Paul kept laughing.
In spite of the breakup and of the news I’d just dumped on my younger siblings, I laughed as well. It was a bit funny now that I was on this side of the closet door.
“What happened?” Mary asked. “You said you messed up?”
“His exact words were ‘fucked up.’”
Mary waved that away and watched me expectantly.
“Learn from your older brother’s mistakes,” I said. “I wasn’t honest with myself, and that made me lie to everyone else. Don’t be like me. You get one life; live it. Be true to yourself if no one else.”
“That’s it.” Mary reached for her purse and snatched her phone free. “Truman and I are done.”
“Wait!” I snapped. “First of all, I did not tell you that so you’d break it off with your fiancé. And secondly, don’t do it through a text.”
She flipped her phone around with the calendar app open. “I’m not. Just setting a reminder.”
As I stared, Paul said, “A reminder to break up with your man?”
Mary nodded.
Paul shook his head. “Fuck me, I think I am the good child.”
With the three people closest to me now in the know about me and about Asher, I told them of my plan to win him back.
“I’m going to need your help. Are you up for it?”
Paul nodded eagerly.
Mary did the same and added, “Ah, l’amour!”
Good. Hopefully, Asher would give me the chance to sweep him off his feet as he’d deserved since the moment we met.