Page 24 of The Embrace of Evergreen
“Can I tell you something? I don’t really want to ruin our trip or make you uncomfortable with me or anything, but I just…I’ve never told anyone this, and I feel comfortable with you, and…” He trails off, and his hand trembles as he sets his small, floral cup back onto its saucer with a shaky clink. All I want to do is reach out and calm his distress by wrapping my fingers around his, but I don’t think that would be welcome.
“You can tell me anything.” How am I supposed to tell him no even though I’m terrified the next words he says might break my heart?
The green of his eyes appears paler than normal in the intense morning sunlight, closer to moss than pine, as they search my face for a long moment before heseems to steel himself to press forward, determined to say whatever it is that’s on his mind.
“I travel a lot. For work. Which you know. Of course, you know that; we’ve talked about it before.”
His fingernails are nervously picking at the soft wooden arm of his chair.
“It’s not just for work, though, I guess. Not if I’m honest. I just…it feels like something is wrong with me.”
I raise my eyebrow, and he glances down to watch his fingers as if he can’t bear to hold my gaze any longer.
“I don’t really have friends, and I know I’m not alone in that in some ways. I know that some people, like me, just aren’t very social, and I’m okay with that most of the time. Sometimes, I’m lonely, I guess, but when it gets too bad, I just focus a bit harder on work and it passes. Since I’ve met you and Gabriel, though, I’ve come to realize that maybe I’ve been lonelier than I thought. I honestly haven’t actively noticed that anything has been missing from my life for the most part. I thought I was just fine without friendships. But the thing is…” He clears his throat, but his voice remains quiet and shaky. “I don’t have relationships either. Romantic ones, I mean, and I’ve always wanted one of those.”
He glances up quickly, and I nod, making sure to keep a gentle smile on my face even though I have absolutely no idea where this is going, and my heart issimultaneously racing at the idea that he might be offering me hope while breaking for him more than just a little.
“I’ve tried. I’ve tried so fucking hard.”
The way his voice trembles tears at my soul, and I want to pull him into my arms until his face is buried in my neck and he knows that he’s safe and that he wouldn’t have to try with me. That even though I don’t know him all that well, I love everything I do know about him, and if he’d let me, I’d happily spend years learning everything else.
“I go on dates and…” He pauses and blushes deeply, and the freckles that pepper his nose seem to darken slightly. “I’ve gone home with a couple of people over the years, and it just never fits. It’s never…good.”
“I’ve had my fair share of really bad relationships, Ethan. I completely understand what it’s like to be hurt or…”
He shakes his head. “It’s not like that. Not really. I mean, I’ve never been actually hurt by someone intentionally or anything.”
I relax just a little at that. I don’t even want to imagine this sweet man in some of the situations I’ve found myself in during my own pathetic attempts at relationships.
“It’s like…there is no spark. Ever. There isn’t any world shifting on its axis, no fireworks-in-the-night-sky spark. There isn’t a sense of comfort or peace or familiarity. There is just…nothing. When I touch someone, there is just nothing.”
He shrugs, and his shoulders droop even further as he pulls a knee up to his chest and curls in on himself. This man is kind and gorgeous with his soft-spoken tone and quirky sense of humor and body that looks like a Roman Olympian of old. He’s as perfect as any man I’ve ever met, and it’s breaking me to watch the way he’s struggling with his self-worth.
“I just think I’m…broken.”
If he’s never felt a spark with anyone, if he’s never known a romantic touch that he enjoyed, maybe offering physical comfort isn’t the right move, but I slide my hand across the table to rest it, palm up, next to his cup in offering.
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you, Ethan. Everyone feels things differently. Maybe romance and sex just aren’t important things for you.”
He hugs his knee tighter and almost growls in frustration. “That’s the thing. I want them to be. I want them more than anything.”
“Have you ever felt anything for anyone?”
The red hue still gracing his cheeks deepens further.
“Yes. I fell in love once when I was a teenager. We grew up together, Jordyn and I, and then one day, he just felt…different…and I couldn’t get enough of him in ways I’d never realized were possible. We were young, only seventeen, and neither of us wanted to rush anything. We were also the only queer people we knew about in our town, so we kept things secret, but when we touched…when we kissed…when we were together, it felt like movie love. But…it didn’t work out.”
His tone shifts when he says it didn’t work out, and there is so much loss and pain in his voice that I want to pull him onto my lap and hold him as if that would somehow manage to lessen his hurt.
“There hasn’t been anyone since.”
He hasn’t taken my hand, and I pull it back into my lap so that I don’t make him uncomfortable, even though it hurts that he isn’t interested.
As I process everything he’s told me to try to figure out what it might mean for our friendship or the romantic relationship that I find myself so desperately hoping might develop, something dawns on me.
“Ethan…can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” He shrugs, sounding as dejected as a person can possibly sound.
