Page 28 of Sight Unseen

“Okay. I’m looking forward to it.”

“I’m gonna kick some butt out there,” Cody said in satisfaction. “You wait and see.”

He squawked as I shoved him. “Hey, you just pushed me over, bully boy.”

I laughed. “You’ll need better balance than that on your surfboard if you intend on kicking ass, surfer boy. Now go on, go home and get some sleep.”

Cody grumbled but he left. I managed to clean up our pizza mess, and felt guilty I hadn’t done any more homework. I went down the hall, washed up and fell into bed. I was already asleep when Jon came home, but the noise of his arrival woke me.

He smelled of cigarette smoke, aftershave that wasn’t his and sweat. He disappeared into the bathroom. The shower ran. My gut wrenched. Jon normally fell straight into bed after a night out. I knew what he was trying to hide.

After he’d toweled off—yeah, I could hear that, too—he slid into bed and immediately turned on his side. There’d been a time when Jon would come to bed and spoon against my back, his hand drifting around to my cock to tease and bring me to release so I could do the same. Not anymore.

I tried to sleep but Jon’s constant twisting and incessant fidgeting didn’t help. Finally, he sat up, and the bedroom lamp clicked on.

“I know you’re awake, Nate. I need to talk to you. About us.” His tone was both challenging and apprehensive.

Here it comes.

I sat up, drawing the covers up to my chest like a security blanket. I felt my watch face. It was two a.m. “It’s late. What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this anymore. I need to move out.”

Huh. Talk about frank speaking. I’d at least have thought he’d have led into it with the “It isn’t you, it’s me” speech. Except I knew that wasn’t the truth. It was me. It was about the me he no longer saw as a whole man but as a chore, a burden to be borne. Until now.

“It’s isn’t you, it’s me.” Ah. There it was. He rushed on, his voice cracking. “I’m not afraid to say I’m ashamed of how I feel. I know it isn’t right. But I need to be true to myself and say I can’t be with you anymore. I need someone who can be with me the way I need them to be.”

My throat tightened and my chest ached. “You mean someone who isn’t blind.” Despite the fact I’d been expecting this—hell, I felt relieved actually—my eyes prickled. Hearing someone you had cared about tell you he thinks you’re defective, hurt. A lot.

There was silence. Then, “Yes I know that’s the most selfish thing to say. I need someone who can see what I see, take pleasure in watching a great film, marvel at exquisite fashion. I’m a visual person, Nate. I need a partner who can share that with me.” He drew a deep breath and I felt him leave the bed. “I need someone who can see me, appreciate me. You can’t do that anymore.”

I clenched the sheet as his words hit home.

Sure, I’d been expecting this but I was fucking tired of him throwing me away because he thought I was damaged.

“So because I can’t see you anymore that makes you less? You think I don’t remember what I’m missing not being able to see you? See anyone? You think it’s easy for me facing life in darkness? Not being able to see your face when we make love, which is never by the way, or see the light in your eyes when you see something you like? You think it’s easy not being able to see my art, and realize I’ll never see it the same way again?”

Christ, you selfish bastard. It’s not that you’re leaving, I feel relieved about that. It’s the reason you’re going that pisses me off. Throwing away someone because you think they’re damaged.

The closet door opened and something was dragged out. The suitcase no doubt. I held my breath as the familiar sound of hangers being pulled off the rod assailed my ears.

“I know it’s tough for you, Nate. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. And I guess that’s the problem. I don’t believe continuing this relationship is good for either of us. I’ll grow to resent you every day a little more, you’ll retreat inside yourself like you’ve done and together we’ll become this toxic sludge. Believe me when I say after what we’ve shared together, I don’t want that to happen. I don’t want us to end up hating each other.” He gave a humourless laugh. “I know this will be tough. But in the long run you’ll thank me for being a selfish bastard and getting out of your life.”

“So where are you going?” My words came out clipped with barely contained hostility.

There was silence, then Jon spoke again, defiance in his voice. “You know where I’m going. To Caleb’s.”

The bed dipped as he sat down. A soft kiss was planted on my forehead. “He’ll take me in until I find somewhere to stay.”

I gave a strangled laugh. “Please. We both know if you move in there you won’t be moving out. Is that why you showered before coming to bed? Because you reeked of sex with him? I’m not stupid. Just blind.”

My acerbic response must have triggered something in him because Jon stood up, and huffed. “I’m going to go before we both say something we regret and end up despising each other. Despite all this, Nate, I still care for you. I’d hoped we could be friends.”

My gut churned. Temper flared and I didn’t even try to quell it. I deserved this feeling, deserved this emotion rising in me like an exploding roman candle. Because once again I was watching a person I’d loved walk out of my life.

Hadn’t it been enough I’d lost a whole family—been thrown away like fucking garbage because I didn’t fit in with my family’s idea of who I should be? That I’d never been able to nurture what Cody and I had the potential for all those years ago?

My eyes stung with the shame and the guilt of once again not being good enough for someone. Words poured out of me, all the frustration and hurt I felt coating them with bile.