Chapter 47
Capri
Hayes
“I’m gonna be…” I feel the last Aperol spritz rising in my throat and I swallow hard to keep it from coming up.
The hotel bar has pretty green neon lights and the stools have gold cushions that are very comfy.
My head feels so heavy it might roll off my neck and across the bar.
I take one more sip. “A doctor. A real doctor. And I’m gonna help people.
Like us. Gay people. Lots and lots of queer, trans, bi people. Anybody.” I put my head on the bar.
I see Will, or is it Phil, lean over and say something to his husband. Then the blond one, who I think is Will, says, “Are you sure you’re okay? Why don’t we all hang out here until you’re feeling a little more clear-headed?”
“Oh, that’s nice. That’s really, really nice.
You are both so nice. But I’m just a little tipsy.
” I hold my fingers close with a tiny bit of space between them.
“I’m really okay. I’ve only had one, two, three,” I try to hold out a finger for each number but it gets confusing.
“Of those yummy drinks that taste like Orange Fanta. So what if I haven’t eaten anything since Brady walked out of the room?
So what if I have a ticket to go home tomorrow?
Without him! Hey Phil?” I ask the chubbier one.
“How long have you two been together again?”
“Twenty-eight years,” The blond one puts his arm around Phil.
It takes me a second to find the right words, but then they come to me.
“That’s totally fucking amazing!!! Two. Eight.
” I try to hold up my fingers with each number; my fingers aren’t fingering but they get the point.
“How did you do it, Phil? What did you do to make him fall in love with you, buddy?” I slap him on the back and he coughs. Maybe it was a bit too hard.
“What makes you think I didn’t do something to him?” Will says.
I put my face to my mouth, or maybe my nose but I cover some part of my hand with face. “OMG. I am so, sorry. I did not mean to offend, my dude.” Uh, oh. Did I just say, “my dude”? I must be shitfaced.
“Hayes, we’re going to make sure you get you up to your room safely,” Will says.
“And you are going to text us in the morning to let us know you are alright.” Phil says something to the bartender and writes numbers on a napkin.
“Okay, okay, okay, but wait. You got to. You got to tell me your secret. I mean you guys have been together since forever. I mean you are so old.”
“Oh, he is lucky this elder gay isn’t gonna rearrange that pretty face,” Will says to Phil, shaking his head.
“Be quiet, we are old, and this poor boy is lovesick,” Phil says, and then comes closer to my ear.
“We both realized we’re better together.
But that’s not enough. Love is a verb. You have to show the person you love them.
Never take that for granted. Love is a verb.
” Will rubs Phil’s back and kisses him on the cheek.
I thank the bartender like so, so, so much. Then I have Will and Phil on either side of me. Hallway. Hallway. Credit card. Library card. Old room key. Right room key. Bed. One of the guys puts a napkin in my hand. Lights out. Door closes.
I’m lying on the bed and the way it keeps spinning makes me shut my eyes.
I wake up I don’t know how much later. The room is still dark, the sun not out yet, and I remember why I don’t drink to excess.
The funny, numbing, temporary relief is gone.
Disappeared.
Misery and depression have returned. And pain. So much pain.
Whatever wall I was able to build between myself and my true feelings over the past few hours comes crashing down, hitting my body violently.
I’ve lost Brady. I fucked it all up. I stare up at the ceiling and try to fight the tears that are building like lava behind my eyes.
I squeeze my lids shut with every muscle I have.
I do not want to cry. But I don’t have any idea how to get Brady back.