“Oh.”His hands clenched into fists as he brought them down to the table, willinghimself to not gnaw the skin right off his bones.
Icouldn’t stand it anymore. “Stevie, what’s going on?”
Therewas a long, dangerously painful silence. At the sight of his knuckles turningwhite, trembling slightly with the tightness of his grip, I can honestly say Ihave never been that worried in my entire life. In all of our five years ofbeing a couple, I had never seen him act that way and it scared the absolutehell out of me.
Thewaiter brought over the bottle, hastily filling our glasses before leaving thebottle in the center of the table, and promptly walking away—a skilled masterat reading the room. I grabbed my glass, and just as I was about to bring it tomy lips, I noticed Stephen’s trembling bottom lip and the big fat tear rollingdown his annoyingly smooth cheek. His hands—bleeding cuticles and all—shotacross the table, gripping my free hand and squeezing tight. I had to put myglass down, making the assumption that I didn’t need it after all, and withboth hands, I squeezed back.
“Oh,Stevie.” I stroked the palms of his hands with my thumbs, allowing myself tosmile just a bit. “I love you so much, you know that?” Of course he knew that,and as he nodded, a few more tears slid down and onto the table. “It’s crazyhow many memories we have here, right? Remember our first date? You brought mehere, and—oh God, remember you ordered the most expensive wine on the menu becauseyou wanted to impress me but you had no idea it was five-hundred dollars, soyou had to put the whole dinner on credit? You were so broke back then. It tookyou months to pay off onefreakin’ date.”
Ismiled warmly at the memory, reminiscing momentarily on how far he had come insuch a relatively short period of time. He had only been with his graphicdesign company for a few years when we had met. It had just barely taken off,but after five years of a lot of work and an equal amount of luck, the list ofcelebrity clientele had grown significantly and so had his paycheck. It wasmore than I could say for my own growth atTeen Queen, after working astheir advice columnist for nearly ten years, but it was going places. I couldjustfeelit. Together, we were well on our way to being considered oneof those power couples. I just needed to catch up a bit on my end.
Stephen’sgentle crying had built up to a steady blubber, and okay, yeah, he was startingto embarrass me a little bit. I mean, it was sweet that he could be thatsensitive, but the guests inside were starting to look at the sobbing man inthe nice suit …
“Stevie,please stop crying, baby. I know you’re nervous, and that’s okay, but—”
“Wait,you knew?” Stephen’s watery eyes widened and he finally released my hands towipe the tears from his face. A sob wracked through his body, and I hoped itwas the last one.
Finally,able to gaze lovingly into his eyes, I said, “Of course, sweetie. I’d have tobe a complete idiot to not realize what’s going on here.”
Histears were drying, thank God, but I couldn’t detect even the slightest hint ofa smile. “Holly, I’ve been wanting to do this for so long. I just … I didn’tknow how to even bring it up. I’ve beensuchan asshole …” His voicetrailed off as his eyes dropped to that damn candle again. I was ready to blowthefreakin’ thing out.
“Well,that’s alittleharsh,” I muttered. I mean, he certainly dragged hisfeet, but I’m not sure I’d call him an asshole for it. He shook his head inresponse, staring off beyond me. I released his hands and took a gulp from mywine. After downing half of the glass, assuming I was going to need it, Ireached over the ever-appealing candle and stroked Stephen’s smooth cheek.“Honey, don’t beat yourself up for taking so long, okay? Sometimes these thingstake time.”
Heswallowed hard and cleared his throat. “I really appreciate how understandingyou’re being about this, Holly. I …” His eyes flitted over my face for a few briefseconds. What was he looking for? I casually picked at my teeth with afingernail, just in case. “I just don’t know how you could possibly know. Ithought I had hidden it pretty well.”
Ilaughed, because let’s be honest, he had. I hadn’t the slightest clue there wasany possibility he was going to propose to me until earlier that day when mydelusional mind forced those pieces together.
“Ijust don’t understand one thing.” Stephen downed his glass in two swift gulps.The wince reminded me that he was never much of a wine drinker. “Why haven’tyou said anything? Hell, why aren’t youmad? You—You should be mad.”
Igawked at him with a laughing smile pulling at my lips. “Stevie, whywould I bemad? I mean, I’ve wanted you to propose foryears. Youknow that. And yeah, maybe it’s takenwaylonger than I wanted it to,but—”
Withhis eyes widening to the size of golf balls, Stephen held up a hand to stop mefrom continuing any further. Once my voice had trailed off, he covered his faceand began a mantra. “Oh God, oh God, oh God.” Over and over again.
“Holly,I’m not proposing to you.” His voice was so flat, so matter-of-fact, and if Ihad known better, I could have sworn my heart had dropped right out of my bodyand onto the floor. His face remained expressionless and he was facing me, buthe wasn’t really looking at me. I’m not sure he even saw me there. I guess hedidn’t want to really see me when delivering thenewshe was about to drop down on top of my damn head.
Andthat’s when I understood his grim demeanor.
Thiswasn’t a beginning. It was a funeral.
Isunk into my chair again, finally removing the blanket that had been coveringmy eyes. Stephen took the bottle of wine from my hands and filled my glass likea good boy before continuing with his eulogy. Yet, there was no amount of winethat could have numbed me against the bomb that was about to hit.
Stephenscooted his chair around the table, sitting directly next to me, and I felt hishand gently touch my knee. He hadn’t even broken my heart yet, and his touchfelt wrong. Poisonous, even. “Holly, I love you so goddamn much, and I neverwant you to forget that. I willalwayslove you and no matter whathappens here tonight, you will always be my best friend.”
Bestfriend.
“But?”I whispered through the tears that had already begun to fall.
***
Andyou know, the mind is a really funny thing. It has this way of protectingitself from horrifically traumatizing and upsetting experiences. It tries sohard to make us forget the moments that hurt us, and you know what? That momentin which Stephen broke my heart is one big blur.
Ofcourse, that may or may not be due to the two very expensive bottles of wine Idrank mostly by myself.
Icantell you there were tears—many,manytears. Ithinkthere was some yelling. I mean, it’s pretty safe to assume there was, but Icouldn’t begin to tell you what was said. Theremighthave been a fewbreadsticks thrown. There could have been a few sympathetic diners that camerushing to my aid when I threatened to impale myself on a sugar spoon (or soI’ve been told).
Butreally, I can’t be too sure about the course of events that night. There wasonly one thing I was absolutely certain of.
Stephenwas gay, and he was in love with somebody else.
