Chapter Eighteen
THEY DON’T get the divorce paperwork filled out.
They do have sex again.
Lewis is coming over again on Friday. Tad swears to himself that this time, they’ll definitely finish the paperwork. Hopefully Lewis won’t think he’s using the forms as bait to get laid.
In the meantime, he hangs out with Hetty, works, goes to the gym, scrolls mindlessly through social media, and deletes the occasional dick pic from his Grindr DMs. On Friday, they make some progress with the forms. Good thing, because Tad’s leaving the next morning for the week in Watertown. There are frequent breaks for kissing. They have to reward themselves, right? And Tad has to stock up on the feeling.
Also, Lewis brings a toy for Hetty—a little shrimp filled with catnip. “She reminds me of a shrimp when she’s sort of half curled up on the floor, but her legs are sticking out, you know?” he explain sheepishly, like Tad’s going to think he’s stupid.
Tad doesn’t think he’s stupid. Tad has to summon every drop of his willpower to not shove Lewis up against the wall and kiss him to death for being sweet and thoughtful and adorable.
Hetty saunters into the living room during one of their make-out breaks, which they only notice because she leaps onto the back of the sofa and lets out a rusty metal “Mrow!” Even though Tad’s used to it, he jumps. His knee comes perilously close to crushing Lewis’s balls, permanent sterilization only prevented by the fact that Lewis jumps too, which gets his junk out of kneeing range by a couple inches.
“Hetty-bo-betty,” Tad groans.
Lewis looks gleeful. “Oh my god, I cannot . You’re so cute. Hetty-bo-betty. Jesus, Tad.”
Tad flushes. “Sorry, I usually don’t call her all my dumb pet names when people are around.”
Not that anyone’s around anymore. There’s his problem. He’s out of practice biting down on the more ridiculous nicknames he calls his cat.
God, he’s sad, isn’t he? No friends, no boyfriend, just a cat and a guy he’s hooking up with who explicitly told him he’s not looking for a relationship.
Lewis smoothes Tad’s hair back from his face. “Sorry? Don’t be sorry. I love it.”
“Yeah, sure. Sad gay nerd’s best friend is his cat—more at eleven.”
Lewis laughs and pulls Tad down into a kiss. With a groan, Tad settles between Lewis’s legs again. Lewis arches up to meet him and their dicks press together. The first hot, grinding contact makes Lewis gasp. He pulls Tad down on top of him, one arm locked around Tad’s back and the other stroking through his hair.
“ Mrow! ”
They break apart. Tad cranes his head over his shoulder to look at Hetty. She grumbles and settles into a loaf, staring meaningfully.
When Tad looks back to Lewis, Lewis is grinning. “Think she knows I brought her a present?”
“Maybe she’s trying to keep us on task,” Tad sighs.
Hetty’s still staring unblinkingly. “I’m gonna get her toy,” Lewis announces.
He takes the shrimp toy out of the packaging and holds it out to her, and Tad feels like he’s racing down a slope that keeps getting steeper and steeper—and at the bottom is a cliff. He can see it; he knows he’s headed over if he can’t stop his momentum. The only way to stop is to fling himself on the ground and use the friction of his skin against rock to slow down. He’d scrape himself raw, but maybe, maybe , he wouldn’t fall.
Lewis lets Hetty sniff the shrimp toy, and Tad knows it’s too late to stop the fall.
SINCE TAD couldn’t bring himself to lie about having other plans for Thanksgiving, he sets out for Watertown the next morning in a rental car. Mom always wants him to buy a car, because then he could visit more. His excuses about the exorbitant price he’d pay for a parking spot and insurance for a car he’d barely use have the benefit of being true.
The idea of having to visit Watertown even more makes him viscerally ill. Isn’t it enough to spend a week there in November and December?
His only lifeline during the upcoming week will be texting Lewis. Tad stumblingly asked him not to send any suggestive texts, especially not dick pics. (“Wait,” Lewis said, “should I have been sending you dick pics?”) Then he went through the rest of the rules: don’t text too much, don’t call, don’t use pet names, don’t say I miss you .
Okay, Tad didn’t actually manage to get that last one out. It seems super presumptuous.
Not that he doesn’t hope Lewis misses him. Because fuck, Tad misses him, and they saw each other this morning. Lewis volunteered—volunteered!—to stay in Tad’s apartment to take care of the plants, so he spent the night and they woke up together, kissing and touching languidly.
Now he’s driving up 81 with the radio set to scan because his cell signal isn’t good enough to stream any of his playlists, and he’s a gross mixture of sexually frustrated, anxious, sick to his stomach, and bored.
He pulls into his parents’ driveway just after three. Hetty lets out a happy chirp from her kennel in the back seat when he turns off the car.
Tad stretches his arms over his head and cracks his spine. “I’m glad one of us is happy to be here,” he says, looking back at Hetty.
She has her sweet little face mashed up against the bars and a paw stretched through them. At his attention, she starts purring. “I know, little girl. It’s a long drive. And you’re really good. Want a treat?” He keeps them in the front seat so he can feed them to her during gas and bathroom stops, and she takes them delicately from his fingers when he offers them through the bars.
Can he just sit in his rental car and hang out with his cat for the next week?
With a sigh, he checks his phone.
There’s a text from Lewis.
Tad’s face nearly splits in half, he grins so hard.
Which is exactly the kind of response he can’t have to Lewis’s texts. Walt will want to know why he’s smiling at his phone, and Mom will start asking him if he’s seeing someone, and Dad will look quietly relieved, and—
He wants to cry.
The text from Lewis is from ten minutes ago and says: I haven’t killed any plants yet
The urge to cry recedes a little and Tad lets out a little laugh. You haven’t *watered* any plants yet , he texts back. I know the schedule, remember?
Just thought you deserve an update on the watering situation
The next thing to come through is the water droplet emoji, which Tad has personally used to refer to a couple different bodily fluids, but not actual water.
Um omg I didn’t mean to send that!!
Shit
Ignore
Ignore
Omg I swear that was an accident, my phone suggested it and I hit it by accident
Now I’m repeating myself
Wow I am a disaster, I swear I’ll do a better job watering your plants than texting you about *water droplet emoji*.
Fuuuuuuuuuuuu
Tad laughs so loudly that a squirrel nosing around the front yard jumps and runs halfway up the big maple. Lewis is totally making his gaffe worse, but he’s funny and adorable and fuck, Tad misses him so much. This is so not good.
Snickering, Tad sends back: the peach, eggplant, and water droplet emojis.
There’s some typing, then some more typing. Then the three dots disappear. Then they’re back. Tad’s smile fades. Did he do something wrong?
Did you just break your own rule?
Yup
Ok because it’s just… I’m in a tight spot
You have me bent over
A barrel, that is
Things are getting hard here
I guess I asked for it?
That’s what he said
Adjadja;dk;ahddfj LEWIS
Ok I’ll stop, sorry. Are you taking a break from driving?
I actually just got here
Omfg I’m so sorry
I mean not that you’re there!
I’m happy you got there safe!
I’ll stop texting you now
A lump lodges in Tad’s throat. He almost forgot where he was and that he has to spend the next seven days pretending to be someone he’s not.
Thanks for taking care of everything while I’m gone , he texts.
Then—fuck it. He’s feeling reckless. Before he thinks better of it, he sends one more message, a red heart.
He puts his phone on silent. The wedding band on his left hand has to go, at least while he’s here. Unhappiness spears his chest, but he pulls off the ring and stows it in the glove compartment. He should get used to it being gone.
He gets out of the car. Hetty settles into his arms, purring, when he lifts her from her kennel. Dropping a kiss on her head, he whispers into her fur, “It’s okay if you stay in my room the whole time. You don’t have to be social if you don’t want to be, okay?”
Her purring is so loud that Tad can feel it vibrating in his chest.
He kisses her again, snuggles her closer, and rings the doorbell.