Chapter 3 #2
Jasper dragged his hands down his face and groaned.
“It’s not about the park, and it’s not about flying to meet you in fucking Tokyo!
It’s about how by the time I realized how disconnected we were, it was too late.
I’ve accepted the years of false promises you offered as my punishment for being stupid enough to believe you might actually prioritize me some day.
I can’t sit around another ten years while you figure out what comes next for you.
It’s never what comes next for us, and I’ve made a fool of myself long enough thinking someday it will be. ”
Even if he ignored that devastating blow, Ryan knew he was grasping at straws. “You couldn’t have just talked to me?”
Jasper’s jaw clenched. “If you think I didn’t try to talk to you, things are even worse than I thought, and I think we can be done here. I am done here.”
Ryan’s breath stuttered as he tried to figure out how, in twenty minutes, he’d gone from reaching for a rag to clean up spilled orange juice to searching for when, exactly, his marriage fell apart.
There was a lot he wanted to say and questions he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t risk Jasper putting his hand back on the door handle.
He closed his eyes and breathed in slowly, piecing together the best approach to stopping Jasper’s departure, but he was interrupted by the clink of a ring dropping into a bowl.
That bowl, now holding the physical representation of their commitment, was one he’d bought on one of their real first vacations.
It was after Ryan landed his first major contract with CWA, and he remembered it like it happened ten days ago, not ten years ago.
They’d given him a start date of October first, because Ryan’s only nonnegotiable was that he’d always be home the second half of September.
Jasper, being an elementary school teacher back then, always got sick after school started.
Ryan wanted to be around to make him soup, and take care of the animals, and tuck him in.
That year, they spent the last week of Jasper’s summer break on a trip to Mexico City.
It offered live lucha libre wrestling for Ryan and the Museum of Anthropology for Jasper, plus half a dozen markets walking distance from their hotel.
They ended up passing through a market selling local art where Jasper pointed out a bowl he liked.
He didn’t buy it because he was on a teacher’s salary and it seemed, in Jasper’s words, extravagant.
Twice during their dinner, Jasper mentioned that bowl.
The colors of the tile and the shape of the base, the exact spot in the house he wanted to put it and what they could store in it.
While they waited for post-dinner coffee, Ryan made up an excuse to step outside, something about CWA calling about his contract details, and ran to buy it.
He surprised Jasper with it when they got back to Amherst. It was such a simple gesture and such a simple bowl, but he’d never seen Jasper so lit up over something so small.
He never would have done that if he thought someday Jasper would be using that bowl as a place to leave a visible reminder of Ryan’s heartbreak.
“Wait,” Ryan said. “Wait. Please don’t leave yet. Just let me talk to you, please?”
He crossed the room until he was standing directly in front of Jasper, who, thankfully, had not put either hand back on the door handle. They were shoved into his pockets, and Ryan pulled them out. He held on, rubbing his thumb against the smooth skin once hidden beneath Jasper’s ring.
“Everything I do is for both of us,” Ryan said. “It always has been.”
That was clearly the wrong thing to say, because Jasper snatched his hands back and scoffed.
“Yeah. I’m sure three hundred days of first-class travel, trainers, nutritionists, fame, and millions of dollars were all a huge sacrifice. I’m not sure how you managed.”
Ryan nodded. “Okay. I deserve that. But I’m home now. We can start over. I’ll make it up to you. Just, please—”
Jasper shook his head. “It’s too late for that. At this point, you being home is a break from my real life. You can’t fix that.”
“I can try.”
“Try all you want, but it’s not going to work.
When you’re here, it’s not like having my husband around anymore.
It’s like there’s someone in my space. Like I want to light something on fire when I deal with the cat’s incessant meowing from your rigid Calliope feeding schedule.
Or when I watch your eyes scan the sink for my breakfast dishes.
The patience I had for that disappeared at the same time you did. ”
Ryan stayed quiet, taking Jasper’s hand again. He didn’t pull away, and Ryan let himself hope until Jasper spoke. Softer this time, but just as cutting.
“You can’t pretend things aren’t different for you now. You can’t tell me your feelings haven’t changed. We barely see each other.”
“I’m not pretending. Despite what you think, everything I’ve done has been for us and our future.
Because I love you, and I have never stopped loving you.
I will never stop loving you.” Ryan squeezed his hand into a fist and closed his eyes.
“Please don’t do this, just give me a chance to fix things. ”
“I love you too,” Jasper said, squeezing Ryan’s hand. “You’re my family. But… I don’t think I’m in love with you anymore.”
If Jasper had cheated on him, moved to another country, or decided to live atop a mountain in a vow of silence, Ryan might have been able to accept it.
It would have hurt, but at least he could chalk it up to circumstance and a desire for different things.
But to hear Jasper say he wasn’t in love with him anymore was like getting ten thousand tiny cuts on the same patch of skin, each more painful than the last.
“So, what, that’s it, then?” Ryan asked, sniffling.
Jasper shrugged and wiped his eyes.
“Can you… Can I hug you, at least?”
Jasper huffed out a laugh, wet with emotion. “Yeah, you can hug me.”
Ryan wrapped his arms around him and held on tight, like he could keep Jasper from leaving by force alone.
Jasper made a small sound of discomfort and Ryan loosened his grip, shifting his hands to his waist instead.
He ran his hands over the body he’d spent the last fourteen years memorizing—tight strong muscles in his arms, a slim middle softened by age, an ass that fit perfectly in his hands.
He reached up to run his hands through Jasper’s wavy hair, shorter than it used to be, gray at the temples.
Eyelashes, dark and full, reaching out for his ruddy cheeks, speckled with stubble.
He took his time, ignoring Jasper’s half-assed attempts to escape. Anything to draw this out.
Eventually, Jasper’s arms, which had been pinned at his sides, lifted slightly, pulling their bodies together.
Ryan turned his head and pressed his face into Jasper’s neck, wetting it with his tears.
He sniffled and felt Jasper’s hands press against his back, fisting his sweatshirt as he pulled Ryan against him.
As Ryan pressed his lips to Jasper’s neck, he could feel his own heart beating in his chest, battling between overwhelming emotion and new, echoing emptiness.
He pressed his lips to Jasper’s neck again, this time in a soft kiss.
He did it again, with his lips parted, allowing himself to taste Jasper’s skin and the sweat from the stress of their fight, and again, to soothe them both as best he could.
Ryan shifted his stance to support Jasper’s now sagging weight.
Ryan wanted more. He wanted to beg Jasper to kiss him and touch him, even if this was the last time they’d ever feel the warmth of each other’s skin.
It would be worth it as a chance to say goodbye.
He raised his hand to the back of Jasper’s head and grabbed his hair at the root, pulling gently to give himself access to the curve of Jasper’s neck and that spot behind his ear.
Years of memories took hold. The first time they met. The first time they fucked. The first time they called something theirs. The last time they held their first cat. The last time they said I love you and meant it.
Ryan stopped being gentle then. He pulled back and wrapped his hand around Jasper’s jaw, kissing him hard.
It was the kind of kiss he couldn’t remember them sharing in months.
He thought back to the last time they’d been together and realized how right Jasper had been.
The signs were all there—Jasper pulling away, being gone more, making less of an effort to connect.
Ryan was an idiot. He’d been so happy the man he loved had created a life for himself, but he hadn’t realized it was a life without him.
But this kiss would save them. It had to.
“Ry,” Jasper said. It was just a whisper, so Ryan didn’t stop. He pressed his body into Jasper’s, moving them against the door. He could feel that Jasper was hard, and he was too, but he wasn’t sure what to do about it. Kissing was safer, so he leaned in again.
Jasper moaned softly as he raised his hands between them, brushing his palms over Ryan’s chest before moving down to reach inside his shirt. Even this felt new and exciting, which came with a hint of guilt. Had it really been that long?
“I’m sorry,” Ryan said against Jasper’s mouth. “Please forgive me. I’ll do anything.”
“Don’t do this,” Jasper said.
Ryan paused. He lifted his head and looked at Jasper, whose face was flushed—from panic, anger, or arousal, Ryan wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t kiss him again without knowing.
“Don’t leave,” Ryan said, pressing his hand against Jasper’s cheek. “Give me another chance. I’ll show you how good we can be.”