Suffocate (9 page)

Chapter 19

Stuart

Thankful that I beat my parents to my apartment with enough time to grab a quick rinse off, I hustle down the stairs tucking my shirt in. Opening the door I’m not surprised to see the picture perfect campaign moment waiting for me.

Heaven forbid they go anywhere not looking like they are ready for a fucking photo op. While my blonde hair and blue eyes come from her, my stature resembles his. It’s almost like a perfected mixture of their physical genetics.

“Stuart,” my mother coos placing a hand on my face, a kiss on my cheek.

“Mother.” I reply before extending my hand to shake my father’s.

Once he does, he looks around at my apartment. “Not the dump I was expecting.”

I clink my tongue ring around in my mouth to fight the urge to respond, which causes my mother to scold, “You still have that? I thought we discussed you taking it out. I hate that thing.”

Another reason I keep it.

“Well the house you are moving into in Maryland is fantastic.” My mother waves a hand around. “Oh look you’ve even begun packing.”

“House?” my voice questions following her into my living room that’s filled with boxes. “What do you mean house? I’m renting an apartment, the next city over from yours.”

“Unacceptable,” my father states his head high in the air as he continues ripping apart everything he hates in my apartment in his head. “You’re not raising a baby in an apartment like some sort of welfare parent.”

Running a hand down my face to gain my composure I nod. “I can’t afford a house.”

I can. They don’t know that though. They think I don’t make anything as a photographer and I’m happy to let them think that.

“Which is why your mother and I are giving it to you as a baby gift.”

Most people get diapers or bottles. My parents decide to give me a house I don’t fucking want. Two thumbs up.

“Lots of space to move Sara in,” my mother hums heading towards my windows. “At least you have a beautiful view here. Not as beautiful as the one in Maryland, but not hideous.”

Blowing out a stern breath I declare, “I’m not living with Sara. I’m not marrying Sara. I barely wanna have a baby with Sara. So please drop this notion you have that I’m going to whisk her off her feet and ride off into the sunset with her.”

Quickly my father warns, “Watch your tone.”

“Why not?” My mother turns to me and pouts. “I worry about you.”

She knows. I know she knows even as she stares me in the face right now and pretends not to. A mother knows when she introduces her son to a brother and sister and he eye fucks the brother and can’t be bothered to even look at the sister. What? I never claimed I was that subtle about it. It wasn’t until after getting jumped at 17 that I started to hide it like the plague.

“Because she’s not my type,” I say meeting her gaze until she has to look away.

“It’s not about type son,” my father’s voice drags my eyes to him. “It’s about status. Money. Your reputation. Your responsibility to keep our good name a legacy.”

“So love factors in there between which part?”

“Watch your attitude,” he sternly demands putting his hands in his pocket.

Holding my tongue I fold my arms across my chest. “I have to get ready for work.”

“Speaking of, I found the perfect job for you. High paying. Long hours.”

“And how can I be a good father working long hours?”

“Are you telling me I wasn’t a good father?”

I’m not touching that one.

“Let’s not have a fight now,” my mother crosses the room to be beside my father.

How she chooses to stand by a man who cheats on her and would disown his own blood at the possibility of it being same sex interested is beyond me.

“Not before my spa appointment. And more importantly not before your banquet tonight dear.”

He mumbles something to her and she nods in agreement. As they reach my front door, I plant my hands on the back of my sofa. “I’ll see you for brunch tomorrow before your flight.”

“Please make sure you put on something worth being seen in.” She points to my dark jeans and navy blue button down. “Especially since Sara’s coming.”

Unhappy, I grip the back of my couch tighter, nodding at her. Once she shuts the door behind her, I drop my head forward and let out a sigh, death grip still on the couch.

I can’t drag Luke into this shit. I mean, I can barely live in it without suffocating to death. I have to leave him out of it. I have to just make a clean cut now. No calling him back this time. No more intimate moments. It’s what’s best for him. And I know I’m a selfish dick, but I’m going to do the right thing for him. And for my son. Though, if it counts for anything, I think Luke would make a much better parent than Sara or I ever could.

Chapter 20

Luke

Is it just me or did that feel like goodbye sex? Well you can’t feel it, but did it seem like goodbye?

Tossing in my bed for the millionth time that still smells like him, I throw the sheets off of me. Frustrated from the lack of sleep and awkward ending to one of the best nights of my life, I hop in the shower to start the process of getting ready for work.

After I shave, shower, and have squeezed into my scrubs I head down the stairs to grab a wake up cup of coffee to see Kellar stretched out on the couch.

“You do know you don’t live here anymore right?” I grunt stopping midway down. “Or did you finally take a blow to the head that blocked out that part of your brain.”

“My wife is bitchy. My son is bitchy. Please don’t be bitchy too,” he yawns rolling over onto his stomach.

“Your wife has spent about eight months growing your seed in her belly. She gets a pass.”

“That’s why I’m complaining to you and not her.”

Glad to see someone else as miserable as I feel, I finish traveling down the stairs. “What’s going on?”

Groaning he shuts his eyes. “Maxx is having extreme trouble sleeping and apparently having me in the bed isn’t helping, but she doesn’t like sleeping without me, so it’s I’m fucked if I try to get out of the bed and fucked if I don’t.”

“A Catch 22.”

“I haven’t caught anything.”

Yeah. He’s that bright.

Washing my favorite coffee mug I question, “What’s wrong with the Kid?”

“I had to ground him for getting a D on his English paper.”

“A D?” the bewilderment in my voice is apparent. “Are you serious? That’s like Maxx’s second language.”

“Another reason she’s bitchy. She’s pissed about it.” He sits up and looks over the couch at me. “She chewed him out for almost twenty minutes before he fought back.”

“He fought back?” I start my coffee machine. “That’s...new.”

“Yeah.” He shakes his head. “You’re telling me. He started yelling and then she started yelling and then I started yelling. Before I knew it he stormed off and shut himself in his room.”

“Hormones?”

“I don’t give a fuck what they are. No one should disrespect their parents like that.” Kellar shakes his head again. “He was out of line. He’s been doing that a lot lately. I’m worried.”

Glancing at my cup that’s filling, I shrug. “Well, it could be his hormones. The chemicals in the brain—”

“No.” He flops back down on the couch. “No medical talk please. Not enough sleep.”

“There’s never enough sleep in the world for you to understand it,” I mutter. Speaking louder as I grab my cup I state, “It could be a girl.”

Kellar shoots back up. “What do you mean it could be a girl?”

“I mean, he’s 16 and his brain is nestled between his legs. If there’s a chick clouding his judgment or encouraging him to act a certain way, that could explain the sudden change too.”

After a moment Kellar lets out a heavy sigh and flops backwards once more. “So basically you’re saying I’m going to have to be a parent and have a talk with him about his behavior.”

Approaching him with my mug I reply, “Precisely.”

He groans and grumbles, “Fine. But can I at least nap here first? I need some peace and between Maxx’s frantic phone conversations with Tony over the banquet she’s hosting tonight and the Kid’s need to slam every fucking thing he can in a dramatic way, I’m not getting sleep.”

“Go ahead.” I relocate to the recliner.

Kellar rolls over to look up at me suspiciously. “What’s wrong with you? You don’t have your normal snippy thing going on.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Closer.” He smugly smirks.

Jackass.

“What’s bothering you?” I open my mouth to speak but quickly blow on my coffee instead. “Come on Luke. You’re always expecting to hear our problems, for once, tell me what’s up.”

“Why do people keep saying that?” I lean forward.

“Saying what?”

“That I don’t share my problems.”

“Because you don’t.” When I scowl he shrugs, “You can Death Ray glare me all you want, but it’s the truth. I mean, we come to you and bitch almost every day—”

“Every day some weeks.”

“Because it’s you. You’re the voice of reason. Our own little Jiminy Cricket.”

“I do not appreciate being compared to a grasshopper.”

“A cricket.” He corrects me with another smirk. After receiving another dirty look from me, he asks, “So what’s wrong?”

Crossing my legs I raise my cup to my lips and blow again. “Stuart and I...well we’re...”

“Hooking up. I know.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve got a radar.”

Prepared to respond I think twice.

It’s weird because I’m fairly certain that he does. Sex radar. Wow. That can’t possibly be real right?

“Anyway, it’s just so...hot and cold. One minute we’re on fire, the next he’s so cold you’d think we were in a goddamn blizzard.” Shaking my head I have a sip of my coffee. “I don’t get it. There’s no consistency and I just...I don’t know what to do.”

“Well he’s not afraid of commitment,” Kellar starts.

Not exactly true. But true enough.

“Have you thought about just asking him?” Another sarcastic scowl comes across my face and he snaps, “I get enough of that bitchy look from the gorgeous mocha ice cream cone I married. I don’t need it from you too.”

With a scrunched face I fuss, “Why? Why describe her that way?”

“For that reaction.”

Dickhead. See why I don’t talk to him.

“Seriously though.” He clears his throat. “After that shit Maxx and I went through in the beginning, and in the middle...then again a little later on...I’m just saying don’t assume anything. Especially because what we assume tends to be the worst. Do yourself a favor, swing by his place and let him know how you’re feeling. Talk it out. Don’t wallow in your own self-doubt.”

On a heavy sigh I lean back in my seat. “How’d you get that smart?”

“Oprah.”

“Really?”

“No genius. You,” he yawns and shuts his eyes. “Now if you’ll excuse me. There’s two hours of sleep that has my name tattooed on it.”

Having the first sip of my coffee I redirect my attention to the front door.

I know Kellar is right, but something deep inside is telling me that he’s wrong. That whatever it is that’s got Stuart running two different temperatures is much worse than I am imagining. What do you think?

Chapter 21

Stuart

Sealing another box with clear tape, I’m surprised to hear a knock on my door. I stand and toss the tape on the kitchen table quickly hustling to answer it.

Lord have mercy on my soul. I can’t take another visit from my parents today.

When I open the door I’m shocked to see Luke standing there in his pair of dark blue scrubs. Playfully I say, “Quickie before work Nurse Man?” The moment he scowls I widen the door for him to come in. “Now’s not a good time Luke.”

“We really need to talk,” he insists as I shut the door behind him. “We really need to—are those boxes?”

I fight the urge to snap with sarcasm in my foul mood. “Yes.”

“Why do you have boxes?” My mouth opens when cuts me off again. “Are you moving to another apartment?”

“Technically yes.”

“What the hell do you mean technically yes?” I try to respond when he snaps again, “Are you leaving the city?” My mouth drops when he continues, “The state? The country?”

“Would it kill you to shut up for a second so I can fucking answer?” I bitterly bite.

Offended, Luke purses his lips together making me feel like an even bigger dick than I already felt.

Shit. This isn’t going to end well at all.

My hands scrub my face. “I’m sorry. I just—”

The frantic knock on my door causes us both to turn our attention at it.

Seriously? I’ve lived here for almost a year and this is the most fucking attention the damn thing has received in one day. This is not Heaven’s door. No need to keep knocking.

I hold up a hand to retreat to answer the door, disgusted by what’s on the other side. Not opening my door all the way I shake my head. “Now’s not a good time Sara.”

“It’s never a good time for you.”

“In things that involve you, this is true, but now is
really
not a good time.”

“Why?” She smugly smirks. “Because your boyfriend’s in there and you don’t want me to see?” Without waiting for further invitation she shoves hard against the door and barges in. “Ding. Ding. Ding. Looks like I was right. I mean I knew I was going to be right, but damn it feels good to be right.”

Luke looks confused and concerned as he glances over her.

Today she chooses to wear a form fitting dress that reveals her baby bump clearly? This feels like a set up.

“Who are you?” Luke’s voice breaks.

“The mother of his future child. And you must be his butt pirate partner,” her remark forces my hands to grip the back of my neck in an attempt to control my anger.

In a sharp gasp he questions, “Excuse me?”

“Don’t like the language? Maybe you shouldn’t suck cock in your sex life then,” she sneers.

Harshly I snap, “Sara!”

“Oh fuck off,” she chomps back at me. “You broke the contract—”

“What contract?” He tries to innocently ask.

“Luke and I are just friends—”

“Now we’re just friends?” Luke whispers hurt.

Oh this gonna be so much worse than I saw it going in my head. I should’ve told him yesterday when I had the chance.

“Save the bullshit.” Sara waves her hand on my face. “I’ve got fucking proof!”

“What?” I bellow.

“I should go,” Luke says shaking his head as he tries to walk past me. Instinctively I reach out to stop him. Yanking his arm away he says coldly, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Luke—”

“Don’t call after him,” Sara bosses me around and pulls my attention back to her instead of my front door that just slammed.

“What the fuck is your problem!”

“You!” She screams back. “You are my problem! You climbed between my legs and ruined my life! I have been counting down the fucking minutes until I could do the same to you because guess what Stuart Ducane, when you make choices you only think about your fucking self!”

“That’s not fucking true!”

“Obviously it is! All you had to do was not fuck any dude until your son was born! That’s all you had to do! Keep your goddamn cock unused for a few months and I would willingly share joint custody with you! I would keep your dark closet secret from your parents! I wouldn’t tell the world that you would rather take it up the ass than put it in a pussy! But no! No! You couldn’t just keep it on lock for the sake of your own life and everyone else’s because you are a selfish bastard who only cares about you!”

“I care about other people!”

“But always Stuart Ducane first! That’s why you came to my door that night. It wasn’t really to see if I was settling in okay. It was because Stuart needed somewhere to go to forget his problems, damn who was gonna have to live with the aftermath of it all. Well you selfish prick, it’s over for you. Your boyfriend just dumped you, your parents are in town for me to see the look on their face when I tell them their son is a raging queer, and our son is now
my
son.” Sara pulls out an envelope from her purse and shoves it against my chest. “You can keep this one. I’ve got the files saved on my computer and a flash drive. In just a little less than a day the entire world is going to know your filthy fag secret.” My jaw clenches tightly as I feel my lungs constrict. Backing up towards my front door she evilly smiles. “Nice to see your life upside down. Make sure you tell C.J. he’ll be hearing from my lawyer first thing in the morning.”

She slams the door behind her at the same time I tear the envelope open seeing a picture of me kissing Luke from this morning on his doorstep. From when I let my guilt push me into a careless choice. Livid I toss the photo at the front door and bury my face in my hands.

My life is completely fucking over. And I deserve it.