Chapter 12 #2
“Oh my God,” Jasper said from behind the hands pressed against his face. “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t know anyone could see us.”
Shawn laughed. “I tried to make you guys stop! That’s why I asked if you were ready to go. From, you know. Far away.”
Jasper groaned another apology and Shawn laughed even harder. “I’m not worried about it, Jasper. You’re an interesting guy, but clearly you have some things to work out.”
“I didn’t plan on that happening. I swear. I just… you know. I saw him go outside and I just felt bad, and—”
“You don’t have to explain yourself any more than you already have. And hey, the night wasn’t a total loss! I got that barrel size jar of jelly beans from the gift exchange. I’m gonna go home and eat a lot of them.”
Jasper nodded, but he was so busy running over the evening in his head that he couldn’t even think of anything to say. He bit his lip and stared at the house, his hand refusing to reach for the car door handle.
Shawn seemed to take pity on him, offering more facts to buy some time.
“Hey, speaking of jelly beans, did you know all jelly beans have a slightly different shape? The coating on the outside is made of multiple layers of sugar, so they can get lumpy in different places. Like a candy fingerprint,” he said, flexing his index finger between them.
“I didn’t know that.” Jasper smiled, grateful for the short-term distraction. He hummed thoughtfully. “I think the only jelly bean fact I know is that they’re made of beetle poop.”
“Poop is an oversimplification,” Shawn said. He glanced at Jasper for a moment before looking up at the house in silent encouragement. “But that’s okay. You’re kind of right.”
“Thank you for the ride.”
“You’re welcome. And if things don’t work out, and you decide no strings sex is your next goal, feel free to reach out.”
Jasper laughed briefly. “I will. Goodnight, Shawn.”
“Goodnight. Don’t do anything stupid in there,” Shawn said, nodding towards the house.
“No promises.”
Jasper got out of Shawn’s car with his heart lodged high in his throat. Ryan was inside, but why?
He walked through the door and dropped his coat in the mud room before entering the kitchen, spotting small signs along the way that confirmed Ryan was there.
His shoes were inside the door, a jacket was draped over the chair at the kitchen table, there was a toolbox on the counter next to a recently opened bottle of whiskey taken from the bar cart.
A pair of pants was crumpled in the hallway.
The lights were on in the far rooms of the house.
The living room and office, but not the bedroom.
At least Ryan respected one boundary, he supposed.
Jasper walked towards the yellow glow, readying himself for the confrontation he was sure would result in one of two things: a huge blowout fight, which he was hoping for, or nothing at all, because they chose not to talk.
Jasper wanted to fight. If he fought with Ryan, he didn’t have to deal with the fact that he missed him. If he could get Ryan to fight back, Jasper could feel confident he’d made the right decision in leaving. And if he felt confident in his decision, he would stop hurting. Maybe they both would.
The couch in the living room faced the doorway, and as Jasper approached, he saw Ryan sitting alone.
The TV was off and there was no music on.
He didn’t even appear to be looking at his phone.
As Jasper stepped closer, he confirmed it.
Ryan was doing something much sadder—staring at a photo of Jasper at the dinner celebrating his promotion to principal.
Pity stirred first. But then Jasper remembered the empty seat at the table that night, how humiliated and lonely he’d been, and pity turned to hurt.
To see Ryan upset about his own behavior now, years later, peeled back the protective layers Jasper had wrapped around himself just to survive that memory.
“You were invited that night,” Jasper said, putting the watch on the coffee table between them. “You couldn’t make it.”
Ryan turned slightly, his eyes glassy from alcohol. He sniffled, and Jasper felt another quick jab of guilt, but it disappeared just as quickly.
“You didn’t drive here like that, did you?” he asked.
Ryan sighed and turned back to staring straight in front of him. “Of course not. I didn’t have anything to drink at the party. And I haven’t had that much now, I just—”
“Good.”
“I’m not a bad person,” Ryan said.
Jasper wanted to say that was questionable, but he didn’t want to be the bad guy in this fight. He wanted this to be a closing chapter on all the ways he’d been hurt by Ryan. But before Jasper could think of anything else to say, Ryan spoke again.
“Well, maybe I am. Or was. I don’t want to be. I’m sorry I missed this dinner. I’m sorry I missed… God, so many things.”
This wasn’t what Jasper wanted at all. He’d come in coiled tight like a rattlesnake, ready to strike, but Ryan’s apology, should he choose to accept it, left nowhere for his fangs to land. He pushed through. “Take your pity party elsewhere.”
“It’s not a pity party,” Ryan said, turning again. He held the photo up. “I’m apologizing for being a dick three years ago.”
“I’ve only had that job for two years.”
“Oh,” Ryan said. “Okay, well, you’re the one who brought someone to the party tonight. The sacred Christmas party where we met.”
Ryan held up another photo then. One Jasper hadn’t looked at in years. Stevie had taken it at the Christmas party the year after they met—Ryan wearing a Santa hat, Jasper holding mistletoe above their heads.
Jasper glanced at Ryan. “Those were simpler times.”
Ryan nodded, his face softening. “Remember how you bet me five dollars I wouldn’t wear that hat all night?”
Jasper laughed briefly, which annoyed him. “You couldn’t do it. You never paid me.”
“I think I’ve made up for the five dollars by now.”
There it was. Jasper could pick a fight about the suggestion that Ryan’s money was the solution to any thoughtless act. “Why are you here, Ry?”
“The party.”
“What about the party?”
“You had a date. I came here to get my stuff and go home so I never have to see you again and you can live happily ever after with Shawn, the weird facts guy.”
“That’s what you want?”
“No, but it’s what you want. And that’s fine. Maybe he can tell you about the history of people leaving their partner of fourteen years with no warning. Also,” Ryan said before hiccupping, “you should know that I don’t think he washed his hands after using the bathroom.”
“Really?” Jasper asked. He thought back, but all he could remember were all the times he was searching for Ryan.
“Yeah, and I wash my hands every time. So that’s just… your choice, but something to think about.”
“My choice, huh?”
“Yeah. You could have me, or you could have the dirty guy who had a million weird facts up his sleeve.”
“Leave Shawn out of this. He didn’t do anything to you. He was there with me because I wanted him to be.” Or, perhaps more accurately, Stevie wanted him to be. But that was unnecessary information.
“Oh,” Ryan said. His face fell.
Fighting wasn’t going well. Ryan was too pathetic for it to feel even.
They sat next to each other on the couch for a while, not speaking, while Jasper worked through a rolodex of different relationship failures he could bring up to antagonize Ryan.
There were certainly enough of them to leave poor Shawn alone.
“I am sorry about what we did on the deck,” Ryan said. “Shawn doesn’t deserve that. I won’t tell anybody, so you can just keep it a secret if you want. If you guys get married, I promise not to say anything about it in my best man speech.”
Jasper laughed unexpectedly. “You think you’re my best man at this future wedding?”
“I’d like to be,” Ryan said, his gaze shifting to Jasper’s.
“I’ve spent a lot of time lately wishing I’d never have to see you again, because I’ve convinced myself that would make my life easier.
But I think… that would make my life so much worse.
If you let me be your friend, I think I could be happy again. ”
A weaker man might hear surface-level-sweet words like that and be moved by them.
But Jasper wasn’t. He heard something else—him being responsible for Ryan’s feelings, with no regard for what Jasper actually wanted.
Jasper didn’t want to marry Shawn, and he didn’t want to be friends with Ryan.
He wanted to go back in time so he could figure out how to get Ryan to stay on the indie circuit, or maybe never meet him at all.
Anything to prevent this outcome, where Ryan was moping on their couch, expecting pity after edging him on a deck, all because he was hurt, angry, and confused.
Well, Jasper was hurt, too. And humiliated, after he showed Ryan—and Shawn, apparently—his willingness to let his guard down if it meant being touched again. “I didn’t realize torturing people and leaving them blue balled in the cold was something friends did with each other.”
Ryan lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I said I was sorry.”
“You did,” Jasper said. He licked his lips before standing. “God, did you turn the heat up when you got here? It’s so hot.” He took off his sweater and dropped it on the ground, then moved away from Ryan to escape his body heat before settling back into the corner of the couch.
“I didn’t touch it.”
“You know what I think?”
“What?”
Jasper removed his shirt next, dropping it on the ground near his sweater. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ryan’s eyes locked on him. “I think if we were actually friends, you wouldn’t have left me like that. I think you did it because you were mad at me.”
“I was angry with you. For seeing someone else and giving away my watch.” Ryan shifted in his seat. “What are you doing?”
Jasper looked at Ryan, then down at his bare chest. “Taking my shirt off. It’s hot.”
“It’s not hot. I’m wearing a sweater,” Ryan said.