13. Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
Ken
B y late afternoon, it was clear Marc wasn’t coming back.
His presence lingered only in the fading scent of the coffee that he’d brought back to our room and the pair of cowboy boots he left behind.
I stared out the hotel window, retracing what had happened that morning. The room was hollow, empty, our laughter replaced by silence. Each glance at the rumpled sheets and strewn belongings deepened the ache in my chest.
Each minute of silence was like a dagger in my heart.
It was like a nightmare that I couldn’t wake up from. Marc’s eyes—those beautiful eyes that had looked down on me with desire and hunger while we were in bed together—had flashed with hurt and anger. The way he had pulled away from me as if my touch burned him.
Why hadn’t I told him?
I knew why. I didn’t want to lose him. The moment I brought up Magic Marco, I’d lose Marc, that’s what I thought. I didn’t trust him, didn’t trust in our friendship enough to overcome that obstacle—so I left it there, pretending like I had done nothing wrong.
My selfishness had built this wall between us. And now he was gone.
We’re done. I don’t want to see you again.
As I sat there, lost in my thoughts, the weight of my actions bore down on me like a physical ache.
I had ruined the best thing that had ever happened to me.
***
Eventually I began gathering my things. No sense in staying here alone another night by myself. Marc had left some of his stuff too, in his speedy escape from my presence—a pair of cowboy boots and his toiletries.
Just looking at them made my stomach sick again.
The sudden buzz of my phone jarred me out of my thoughts, the vibration against the wooden nightstand cutting through the silence.
Please be Marc, I thought to myself, but my heart dropped when I saw Stella’s name on the screen.
Her text was light and cheerful, a simple check-in on my weekend with Marc, the man she playfully referred to as my “hot boyfriend.”
If only she knew what had happened.
My fingers hovered over the screen, debating whether to hide the truth. But lies had brought me to this breaking point. It was time to be honest, especially with my best friend.
We had a fight. He’s gone.
What? No! What happened? Are you okay? Do you mean he left you in San Antonio?
I snorted.
Yeah, I think so.
I’ll be there in an hour. What hotel are you in?
I almost told her not to worry about it, that I’d be okay—but like before, that wasn’t the truth.
I wasn’t okay, and I badly needed my friend.
***
True to her word, Stella arrived at the hotel exactly one hour later, her familiar figure a welcome sight as I stepped outside. As I neared Stella’s car, my legs grew heavy, and I had to force each step, the day’s emotional toll crashing down on me.
But Stella was there, her arms open and inviting, and I practically fell into them. We stood there for a long moment, the sounds of the city fading into the background as I hugged her. She held me tightly, her hand rubbing soothing circles on my back, and her voice murmured gentle reassurances and support.
When we finally pulled apart, a sense of gratitude washed over me for the friend who had dropped everything to be by my side in my time of need. I loaded my bags into the trunk of her car, my hands shaking slightly as I carefully placed Marc’s belongings next to mine—another reminder of what I’d lost today.
As we drove away from the hotel, the city passing by in a blur of colors and shapes, Stella reached over and took my hand. “When you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here. But no pressure.”
Something about her soft words was like a key that opened this lock inside me, and words tumbled out.
I poured out my heart to Stella, the words tumbling from my lips as I started at the beginning, how Marc and I connected instantly. I told her about last night, and how magical it had been for the two of us, away from Blanco Springs and our responsibilities. “It was the best night of my life.”
Stella sighed. “Oh Kenny.”
Then — “But this morning we fought, and he left.” I turned toward her, and added, “It’s not his fault. I did something wrong, and I wasn’t honest with him. He feels very betrayed, and I understand. I’m one hundred percent to blame, and if he never wanted to be with me again, I’d understand.”
Saying those words aloud hurt, but it helped to share that grief with Stella, still glancing over at me every few moments, worried, as she absorbed every word.
When I finally fell silent, she reached over and took my hand in hers. “I know it seems impossible right now,” she said, her voice filled with empathy. “But if what you and Marc have is truly love, then it’s worth fighting for. You can’t give up, Ken. Keep trying, keep reaching out, until you make things right.”
“Not sure that I can.”
Stella paused, then let out a deep sigh. “Kenny, the fight—did it have to do with Marc’s…website?” she asked softly.
My breath caught in my throat, my eyes widening in shock as I stared at her.
How did she know about the page? Had Marc told her? Had someone else discovered his secret and spread the word? “H-how did you know about that?” I stammered.
Stella sighed as she reached into her purse and pulled out her phone, her fingers tapping the phone one-handed. “There’s something you need to see.”
She handed me the device, and dread crept in as my heart stopped.
There, on the screen, was a post from the parent Facebook group for our elementary school. A blurred screenshot of Marc’s fan page splashed across it, accompanied by a lengthy caption expressing outrage and concern over the “lewd, homosexual behaviors” that might harm the school and its students.
As I scrolled through the comments, running the gamut from ridicule and amusement to hateful and damning, a wave of nausea washed over me.
This was exactly what I’d feared, Marc’s secret coming out.
I handed the phone back, my hand trembling. “I knew about the website, even before Mia enrolled. I knew who he was, but I never told him, even after we got close. He found out today. That’s why we fought.”
That’s why he left.
She looked at me with sympathy and concern, then bit her lip. “Ken, did you tell anyone about Marc’s page?”
What? “No. I swear, Stella, I never said a word to anyone, not even you. I would never put him or Mia at risk.” A bark of bitter laughter escaped my lips. “You know, the closer Marc and I got, the more I forgot about Magic Marco.” I didn’t want that fantasy man anymore.
I wanted the real thing, flesh and blood and bones with the biggest heart of any man I’d ever known. “When did that come out?”
“Just as I was getting into the car to come get you.” Familiar landmarks whizzed past as we drove, and I ran a hand through my hair.
Would Marc suspect I did this to get back at him?
Fuck.
I pulled out my phone, my heart racing as I scrolled through my recent calls until I found Marc’s name. I hesitated for a moment, my finger hovering over the call button, fear washing over me like a cold wave.
What if he didn’t answer? What if he blamed me?
Even if he didn’t—what would it matter? This was bigger than our relationship.
This was his whole life.
One ring, two rings, three rings… As the voicemail message played, I heard Marc’s familiar voice and a lump formed in my throat. I couldn’t lose him. I had to make this right, had to prove to him that my feelings—my love—for him were as strong right now as it was last night.
At the beep, I took a deep breath, my voice trembling as I spoke. “I… I don’t know where to start, but I need you to know how sorry I am. I should have told you the truth from the beginning, about knowing about… you know. It was wrong of me to keep that from you, and I get why you’re hurt and angry.”
I paused, swallowing hard as I tried to gather my thoughts. “I never betrayed your trust, Marc. Never. I didn’t say anything about it to anyone, and I never would. What we have—had—it was real, and it meant everything to me. You mean everything to me.”
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I blinked them away, determined to get through this. “I messed up, but I’m begging you, please give me a chance to make this right. I’ll do anything, Marc. I love you, and I love Mia, and I can’t imagine my life without you both in it.”
My voice cracked, forcing me to take a moment to gather myself. “Please, just… call me back. Let me explain. Let me prove to you that what we have is real, that I would never do anything to hurt you or Mia. I’m so sorry—”
The voice mail stopped recording, and the call ended.
With that, I let the phone drop into my lap as I leaned back against the car seat, emotionally drained.
Stella reached over and took my hand in hers, offering me a small, reassuring smile. “You did the right thing, Ken,” she told me. “Now all you can do is wait and hope that he listens to your message with an open heart.”
I nodded, and my gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. The road ahead would be difficult, that there were no guarantees that Marc would forgive me or that we’d find our way back to each other.
But I also had to try, and that I couldn’t give up on what we had, on the love that had grown between us. I had to have faith that somehow, someway, we would find our way through this storm, together.
My phone buzzed, shocking me out of my thoughts.
Did you out me, Ken?
The message’s blunt question cut straight to the heart of the matter. My fingers trembled as I typed out my response.
No, I swear. I would never do that to you. You and Mia are everything to me.
I hit send—and waited.
Minutes ticked by, yet the screen stayed blank.
Stella pulled up in front of my apartment building right at sunset. Loneliness settled over me as I glanced at my empty home, now the last place I wanted to be.
“Ken,” Stella said in a low voice, “I know it seems impossible right now, but if what you and Marc have is truly love, then it’s worth fighting for. You can’t give up, not now, not when there’s so much at stake.”
I nodded, my throat tight with emotion. She was right, that I had to keep trying, keep reaching out until I found a way to make things right between us. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do yet. Maybe he needs some time.”
“You haven’t lost him, Ken,” Stella said with steadfast conviction, her eyes holding mine. “He’s hurting, just like you. But you can make it through this. You have to keep fighting for him, no matter how tough it gets.” She took a deep breath. “But what happened to him—this might bring heat on you too if you’re standing by his side. Be ready.”
I nodded, knowing I was lucky to have a friend like her in my life. “Thanks for everything, Stel,” I said, then I opened the car door and stepped out into the fading light.
As I made my way up the stairs to my apartment, I couldn’t shake the loneliness that had settled over me like a shroud. The thought of facing the night alone, after having spent the last night with Marc, and how quickly things had changed between us—it was too painful to imagine.
But Stella was right. This was more than my feelings; it was about protecting Marc and Mia, and the future I dreamed of for us.
Marc was about to face a storm, but I wouldn’t let him weather it alone.