Chapter 4

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Chapter 4: Confession

I woke up about 20 minutes later, a fact I ascertained after stealing a glance at the bedside alarm clock. Wrapped up in the comforting circle of H.'s strong arms, I was reluctant to move or do anything that might disturb us, but I also knew staying together for the rest of the afternoon wasn't an option. It would raise too many questions with not enough satisfactory explanations. I resolved to wake H. up and let him decide how much time we had left together, but not before I took a precious few minutes to lie there soaking up his warmth, the feel of his skin against mine, the sight of his handsome, maturing face. I smiled as I remembered how much H. always resented looking more youthful than the rest of us, despite being only slightly younger chronologically. Where most of us were concerned with looking older, I was sure he was glad to finally be aging properly. It never mattered to me, but he did look especially handsome right then, his face relaxed and peaceful.

I woke him by tracing the scar on his forehead with my finger, pushing away the dark fringe so I could see the faint imperfection that he hated and I loved so much. He stirred and grumbled, then his lips curled into a smile and his arm tightened around me. He blinked his eyes open and looked deeply into mine as he sighed, "Ced!"

I kept my finger over the scar even as he pulled me closer and kissed me slowly and deeply. "It's not a dream. You're really here," he said in a mixture of awe and disbelief. "I missed you so fucking much!"

I moved my finger down over his lips to silence him, afraid of what he might say next. I didn't want to talk. Selfishly, I just wanted to enjoy the little time we had left together without thinking about the reality of our situation outside the walls of the hotel suite. It wasn't to be, though, and I should have known better. In moments he lifted his wrist to check the time and I watched worry flood his eyes.

"I need to go, Ced," he said, his voice filled with regret. I nodded my agreement. I needed to go as well. We dressed in silence. It was a deliberate choice on my part, not wanting to let words in to spoil the perfection of what had just happened. I imagined his thoughts followed a similar pattern.

When he was dressed he picked up the condom off the floor and flushed it in the en-suite bathroom. I heard the water running as he washed his hands before he came into the room again. He stared at me, opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it and closed it again. He strode towards me purposefully and pulled me roughly into his arms, kissing me forcefully, desperately, leaving me breathless.

"We have to go," he finally said when we stopped, still standing close together with his head resting on my shoulder.

"I know," I replied.

"You first," he offered, stepping back. I nodded, picked up my briefcase reluctantly walked to the door, H. following. I reached for the door handle, wishing so badly I didn't have to open it and let the outside world into our private sanctuary, but knowing that fantasy could not be. With one final look at him over my shoulder, I pulled the door open and stepped out into the corridor, hearing it close behind me. With a deep sigh, I headed for the staircase that would lead me down to the lobby and back out into the throng of Friday afternoon pedestrian traffic. I couldn't let myself think about the future, so I concentrated hard on what took place a half hour before, the memories so vivid they very nearly made me rock hard all over again. My recollection of the sheer pleasure I'd experienced was enough to chase away all negative thoughts.

I was still euphoric when I got on the tube. H. had held me and kissed me and made love to me, and it was just as good as it had always been. No one else knew my body as well as he did. No one could bring me to the edge over and over and keep me there until I was nearly mad with want and need, and then grant us release with his perfectly aimed thrusts. For all the time that had passed and all the shit between us, this felt like we had never parted, like we had just been together. It felt so bloody good and so right.

But it wasn't right. It had been so very, very wrong. I began to realize that as the train reached Gloucester Road and I stepped off onto the platform, propelled by the rest of the crowd up to street level and out of the station. I stared at the pavement as I walked to my flat. No, not my flat. Our flat. The flat I shared with Jasper, a man I professed to love. A man I did love, who loved me. A man who was willing to move halfway around the world to be with me. A man who I just cheated on with a married ex-lover.

He didn't know that, though, and he would never have to know. I knew he wouldn't be home for a while yet. I had time to shower and change, erase all traces of my indiscretion and just forget all about it and H. Go on as if nothing ever happened. It was just a one-off thing. H. was married. It could never happen again. Why should I let one instance of a bit on the side ruin everything I had going with Jasper. H. would never tell anyone so if I just kept my mouth shut no one would be the wiser and Jasper and I could stay as happy as we'd ever been. Happier. I would make this up to him somehow. I could take him out to a fabulous dinner, followed by a night at the theatre, or we could finally go to Hampton Court this weekend, like he'd been wanting to for weeks, or I could book Eurostar tickets and we could take a long weekend to Brussels to feast on escargot and mussels and chocolate, and then take a day-trip to Bruges. Jasper would love that, I knew. I could kiss him on one of the city's many bridges as canal boats filled with tourists passed below and tell him how much I loved him and watch him throw his head back, laughing, before his eyes would return to mine and he'd tell me he loved me too, so much. I could clearly see his windblown hair, his flushed skin, his bright blue eyes, his soft, pink lips, all mine. I could keep all that. All I had to do was forget this afternoon, forget the call that made me leave the office and go to the hotel, forget what I did once I got there. All I had to do was forget.

When I got home I tried to do just that. I took off my shirt, trousers, underpants and socks and shoved them down to the bottom of the laundry pile. I took a scalding shower, hoping the heat could burn off all traces of H. from my body and mind. I put on a shirt Jasper particularly liked and jeans we'd bought on a recent H&M shopping excursion that nicely showed off my package, at least according to him. I wanted to look my best for him - only for him. I wanted to remind him and me that he was the most important man in my life, the only one who mattered.

But as I sat in the living room waiting for him to get home, I faced the fact that I was a liar. I was lying to myself when I tried to convince myself that I no longer cared about H., and I would be lying to Jasper if I didn't tell him exactly what I did. I knew I couldn't keep up the lies forever. I might manage for a while - a month, maybe longer - but sooner or later the guilt would get to me and I would own up, and it would be so much worse down the road. I knew exactly how I would feel if I found out he'd been with someone else whilst we were together and withheld it from me, and I knew I couldn't ever do that to him. I'd been stupid and reckless. I'd made a decision that could potentially destroy my happiness. But I was a grown man and I had to accept the consequences, even if the ultimate consequence was losing the golden American boy who'd made me so happy these last few months.

In the utter hopelessness of the situation I burst into tears and could not stop. Curling up on the sofa, I wept for the utter fool and masochist that I turned out to be. I heard my phone ringing and, even knowing that my failure to answer would cause Jasper to worry, I couldn't lift myself off the sofa to get the phone. That's how Jasper found me when he came in from work, and his concern and tenderness as he cradled me in his arms and gently tried to quiet and comfort me only made it worse. I was in a full blown hysterics attack, clutching at him, desperately trying to hang on to a man I knew I didn't deserve. He kept asking me what was wrong, but I just shook my head and couldn't bring myself to speak the words.

Eventually, I calmed. I allowed myself a few dry sobs, but then quieted down. Jasper continued to hold me, smoothing my hair and rocking me gently. I knew when it came to it he wouldn't push me for an explanation, but how could I possibly leave him without one? There was no avoiding it now. I could lay there and think of some story, another lie, but that would just remove another piece from the foundation level of the house of cards that was my life. I didn't want to live like that, on the edge, waiting for that light breeze that would topple the whole thing over.

"Rick, you're really scaring me. What's wrong? Talk to me, please," he sounded so worried and helpless. I whimpered, still unable to speak, not knowing how to string together the words that were about to plunge a dagger into both of our hearts.

"If you don't want to tell me what happened, is there someone else you'll talk to? Let me call Greg," he suggested desperately and began reaching for his mobile.

"No," I rasped out, my throat suddenly as dry as a desert. "Don't. I'll . . . I'll tell you," I could barely get the words past the lump of fear and remorse that clogged my throat. I grabbed his arms to pull myself up to a sitting position, and kept my hold on them as I turned to face him.

"Jasper, I love you. You need to know that. I love you so much!"

"I know, Rick. I love you too. But you're not this distraught over our feelings for each other. What's going on? What happened? Please, it's killing me to see you like this."

I looked down to the floor. I could not look him in the eye as I confessed.

"I did something today, and I'm so sorry. I didn't plan it. I never thought . . . It doesn't change anything, Jasper. It doesn't change how much I love you and want to be with you."

I felt his body stiffen beneath my hands. Even though I was babbling and hadn't told him anything yet, I knew he understood.

"What did you do?" he asked quietly, wariness creeping into his tone.

"I...," I choked up and stopped, then took another deep breath. "I... I was with..."

"Who?" The question was so quiet it was almost a breath. I looked back up at him, frightened by his calm. His face was drained of color and even his eyes seemed to have paled. He stared at me, his face and eyes so cold.

"I'm so sorry, Jasper. It was a mistake. I don't know what . . ."

"Who?!" he nearly shouted. His face, transformed with anger, terrified me. I had seen him happy and sad, joyful and serious, but I'd never seen the fury that filled his eyes at that moment.

"It was H.," I replied tearfully. "I was with H."

Jasper tore out of my grasp and rose so quickly, I lost my balance and fell face forward onto the sofa. I put my hands out and pushed myself into a sitting position, looking back up at him. He had turned away, so all I could see was his back. I choked out a sob, then stopped. His ramrod stance was so rigid, so impenetrable. I instinctively knew that crying would not get me any sympathy.

"I thought you weren't on speaking terms. You said you hadn't talked in a year," his tone was once again detached and ice cold.

"We hadn't. I hadn't seen him since his wedding, until we ran into him and Ginny that night at the theatre. I certainly hadn't talked to him. I had no intention of talking to him. I was shocked when he called."

"He called? Why?" though his voice was still cold, it held a hint of interest. I didn't know if this was a good sign, but at least it was some emotion.

"He said he'd missed me. He said he hadn't even realized how much until he saw me the other day, and since then he couldn't stop thinking about me and the way we'd been. He told me he felt horrible about how he handled things before the wedding and how he treated me at the wedding, but that he had been scared that if he talked to me he'd back out, and he couldn't let that happen. He said he wanted to get together, just to talk, to apologize . . ." I paused. It had seemed like such an innocent, if unexpected, phone call, and his request was impossible to refuse. With as much as had passed between us, and as happy as I was with Jasper, it would have been petty to deny H. the opportunity to express his regret. I never considered that H. would want more, so I never prepared a response for what eventually happened. I so fervently wished now that I had taken some time to think, that I hadn't agreed to meet him then and there. If only I had taken some time, maybe everything would have turned out differently? But then, when it came to H., I'd never been able to act coolly and logically. In the past, when my failure to plan caused pain, I was the only one hurting. This was the first time I'd done something that would, had, hurt someone else.

The silence in the flat was broken only by the sounds of breathing. I looked back to Jasper to see that he hadn't moved or changed his posture. I realized that it had been a number of minutes since I stopped talking, yet he hadn't moved, hadn't said a word. I wondered how long he would let this continue if I said nothing? Somehow I knew it wasn't worth finding out. I knew that if I said nothing, eventually he would move, but it would be to leave. I might have been able to keep him with me by remaining silent, but only if I had never said anything in the first place. That was no longer a viable strategy. I took a deep, shuddering breath, and spoke again.

"I tried to put him off until next week, but he insisted that we meet right away, said he couldn't wait to talk to me, that everything weighed too heavily on him and he wouldn't be able to bear the burden for the whole weekend. I thought it would just be a drink and conversation, so I agreed. He asked to meet in the Coburg bar in the Connaught. I thought it was an odd place to meet, and even said so, but he explained that he was less likely to run into anyone he knew in a hotel bar. That made sense. He was always terrified of anyone finding out he was gay."

Jasper still hadn't moved or said anything. If not for the slight movement of his back as he breathed, he could easily have been a statue. There was nothing for me to do but continue.

"I was on my way to the hotel when he called my mobile. He said he caught a glimpse of someone he knew at the bar and we could not meet there. He said he checked into a room and asked that I meet him up there. I wasn't thinking, Jasper. I honestly did not think we would do anything beyond talking and having a drink. I don't know if he did either."

I saw and heard his snort of disbelief. I waited for a while, hoping for more of a reaction, but none was forthcoming. I was now reaching the hardest part of the story and I shivered with apprehension. With Jasper's history, I wasn't worried about my physical safety. I wasn't even afraid of being berated verbally, though I could imagine how painful that would be. It wasn't anything I didn't deserve, though, so if that was to be the consequence, I resolved to take it like a man. But what I feared the most was his silence. The same silence I was experiencing now. The horrible, paralyzing silence that told me I wasn't even worth a wasted breath.

"When I got to the room he'd already made use of the bar in the suite and had a few drinks. At first it was as I expected. We talked. Or, rather, he talked and I listened. He was so depressed, Jasper. So upset," I saw his hands curl up into fists and I knew I'd said the exact wrong thing. He didn't care about H.'s state of mind, and why should he? H. had been nothing to him until today, until I turned him into the other man. I knew I had to keep talking and get out the whole story, but I focused on being more sensitive as I did it.

"He said he hated his marriage, that he was miserable with Ginny, especially once she got pregnant. He said so many things. . . I told him that I wasn't the right confidant for him and I tried to leave, but he grabbed me and kissed me and ran his hands over me, and it was like someone else took over my body and I wasn't in control anymore. It was like I was in a trance. He was so familiar and everything he did to me felt so...” I stopped myself before the treacherous word 'right' escaped my lips.

"I came home afterwards and I thought about keeping quiet. I didn't have to tell you anything. But I love you and I can't do that to you, to us. It was a mistake, Jasper. The biggest mistake of my life. I would do anything to take it back, but I can't. I can only beg your forgiveness. I love you so much. I hate myself for what I did. I will do anything, anything you say, to make this right," I slid from the sofa to my knees and moved until I was next to him, reaching for his hand, pressing the balled up fist against my cheek and then to my lips. "Please, Jasper, please forgive me. I love you. I'm so sorry. I'll do anything to make this up to you. Just tell me what can I do?"

"Haven't you done enough?" his words were harsh, like sharp blades. "How can you even say you love me? It's meaningless. One call and you go running to him. One kiss and you lose control of your body to the point you can't say no? Do I look like a fool? Or is it that you're just such a whore that all it takes is a single touch and your response is automatic? Are you some fucking sex robot? It doesn't matter who flips the switch, once you're on you just do what you're programmed to do? You think I'd want to be with someone like that?" his voice was derisive as he pulled his fist away from me and stepped out of my reach.

"Jasper!" I crumpled on the floor, fresh tears flooding my eyes. "I've never done anything like this before, I swear. It was a mistake, a huge mistake. But I told you about it immediately. Doesn't that count for something?" I sobbed.

"Is that what you think? That being honest about it afterwards somehow cancels out the cheating?" He turned around to glower at me as he fired off his rhetorical questions. "It doesn't work like that. You fuckin' lying, deceitful bastard! You convinced me to move in with you. You told me you loved me. You asked me to move to England for you, for Christ's sake! Why? How could you lead me on like that? I thought we had something good, something special. I wanted to spend a lifetime with you. And all you wanted was a bed warmer to keep you entertained until H. came around again. You Goddamn asshole! I don't deserve this. And you, you don't deserve me."

"No, Jasper, it wasn't like that. I swear, it wasn't. I love you and I wanted all those things with you as well. I still want all those things with you," I rose to my knees and shuffled forward towards him, pressing my cheek against his thigh as I wrapped my arms around his legs. After a full day at work his scent was strong and wafted right through his trousers. My treasonous cock, once again having no regard for time, place and decorum, began to harden as I breathed in the powerful reminder of what I stood to lose as a result of my dalliance with H. "Please, Jasper. Please believe me," I said quietly against the fabric of his trousers. "It was just a dreadful failure of judgment. I fucked up. You're right. I am a bastard and an arsehole. I don't blame you for thinking any of those things. But please, give me another chance to show you how much I love you and how much I regret what I did."

"I can see how much you regret it," he acknowledged. His voice was softer now, calmer. I even thought I heard a hint of compassion. "But you can't possibly think this is something you just confess and I forgive and then we go on as if it never happened. I've always been the one who forgave things other people did to me in the past. It never made a difference. It was only a license for them to do things to hurt me again. We have a saying in the States. 'Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.' I don't want to be a fool anymore, Rick. And this isn't just you saying something you regret in the middle of a fight or somesuch. This is you deliberately meeting an ex-lover and falling into bed with him within minutes of being together. If you love me as much as you claim, how could you do that?

"I worked too hard and too long to stop being a perpetual doormat to be able just to forgive and forget something like this. I'm sorry too, because I really thought you could have been the man I would grow old with. But now, I . . ." his voice broke and he paused a moment before regrouping. "I need to go."

He tried to take a step back, but I tightened my arms around his legs and pressed myself harder against him, making it impossible for him to move.

"Rick," his voice was at once regretful and exasperated. "Surely you don't mean to bodily restrain me? Sooner or later you're going to have to let go."

"If you really meant to leave, I will not stop you," I assured him. Although he didn't sound fearful and I was pretty sure he knew I would never actually use physical force, his words were a reminder of the problems he'd faced in his past relationships, and I never wanted to be lumped in that company. "I can't explain what happened in any rational terms and I know how it looks, but I also know that I love you. You have to believe me. I love being with you, I love the way you make me feel, I love the way we fit together. I realize I betrayed your trust and I know I can't just apologize that away. But I will wait as long as it takes and do whatever it takes to regain your trust and make you believe in me again. Give me a second chance and name your terms. You call the shots. I will do anything. Just please don't leave me, Jasper," I almost whispered as I looked up at him tearfully.

I held my breath as I watched him consider my pleas. I had never done this before. I'd never done anything to anyone to warrant begging their forgiveness. I could tell by looking at his face that he was surprised at the intensity of my request, and I was surprised as well. I never would have believed myself capable of being this contrite, of making myself so vulnerable and flinging myself literally on my knees at someone else's feet in an effort to apologize and regain their approval. Then again, I also never would believe myself capable of this kind of betrayal. Faced with losing the man who had made me so happy in the past few months, there was little I wouldn't do to keep him at my side. I had no room for pride or self-respect. I'd given up my right to those feelings when I accepted H.'s demand to meet him and then succumbed to the temptation to make love with him one last time.

Because I was studying him so carefully, I saw the instant there was a change in his expression. It started with his eyes, which warmed up and softened somehow. The muscles of his face followed and relaxed, the hard set of his jaw was gone, and suddenly he no longer looked so distant and guarded. He moved his hands to my head and ran his fingers through my hair, then over my face, trying to wipe away the tears that were still flowing and spilling, even as I felt the first glimmer of hope.

"Rick," he whispered in a sigh. He closed his eyes and shook his head, then looked down at me again. "Come on, get up," he urged, bending and moving his hands to my upper arms to pull me up. "Let's sit."

I rose to my feet and together we walked back to the sofa. We sat down side by side, our thighs touching. I didn't know what to do. I needed him so badly: his touch, his embrace, his kiss. But I had no right to demand or even ask for anything. I had to wait for him, and accept whatever scraps of affection he was willing to bestow on me, if any. I almost regretted moving here. At least when I knelt before him he had been soothing me with his hands. Now I felt bereft again, especially as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on this thighs and his forehead on this clasped hands. I could no longer see his eyes or much of his face, and I had no idea what he was thinking. Imagining the worst, I began to cry again, first softly then, as my fear grew with each passing second, harder, until my chest was heaving again with choking sobs. It was probably the movement more than anything else that brought Jasper back from his deep thoughts.

"Jesus!" he exclaimed, turning towards me. His arms reached for me automatically. Of course I offered no resistance as he pulled me forward, falling against him eagerly and gratefully. Even as I leaned into his chest, seeking his warmth and comfort, I wondered when had our roles reversed, when did I become the weaker one and he the pillar of strength. I knew it shouldn't be like this. After what I'd done, I should have been the one comforting him, not the other way around. And yet there we were and I, despite having caused all the problems between us, was the one being helped by him. "Shh, Rick, come on," his voice was calming, as were the strokes of his hand over my back. The whole thing was reminiscent of how this whole evening began, when he'd walked into the flat to find me devastated on the sofa.

"I'm sorry, Jasper," I managed to choke out through the tears. "I'm sorry for everything."

"I know, Rick. I know that. But crying isn't gonna change or solve anything. You have to calm down. We have to talk."

I nodded against his chest and willed myself to slow down my breathing. Although he didn't say any more, he didn't let go of me either, and being in his arms was enough. It took a few minutes, but eventually the sobs and tears ended. Only then did he release me, leaning back to look into my eyes.

"Are you all right?" he asked, eyeing me carefully.

"No," I answered honestly, shaking my head for emphasis. "But I'm done with the crying. At least," I modified, "I think I am. I know we have to talk. Just say whatever you need to say and ignore me if I start again. Just keep talking. I promise I'll be listening."

"All right," he said with another sigh. "I'm not even sure where to start."

"Start wherever makes sense for you. It doesn't matter. I want to know what you're thinking," I encouraged him. I needed to know what was going on inside his head. As long as he kept talking to me, he was still here and there was hope.

He took a deep breath. "Okay. Well, I guess it goes back to that New Year's Eve you came out to New York. We made a resolution back then, remember? And we both ended up breaking it. And we both suffered for it, a lot. I guess I thought that we both learned from those mistakes. I have done everything I could to put Edward Cullen behind me. He came back to see me too, in Rochester, about six months after I left. He was all apologies and promises and it was the hardest thing I ever had to do to send him away. I was so tempted, Rick. I almost agreed. But then I remembered how much he had always manipulated me and I knew I could not allow that to happen again. So I said no. Even though it hurt like hell, even though for three days afterwards I couldn't even eat or get out of bed and my best friend had to watch over me to make sure I didn't completely wither away, I still said no. I couldn't just let him waltz back into my life and set the terms and watch as everything I'd built without him fell apart.

"When you and I started talking about H., I heard the same pain in you, and I really thought I heard the same resolve as well. I thought those similar experiences, those similar victories over guys who had always ruled our lives, gave us something in common, a bond others simply couldn't understand or share. I thought it would make us stronger. But I didn't consider that your resolve hadn't really been tested. I don't know why I didn't pay attention to that. Maybe I didn't want to think about it because everything else with you had seemed so right? But now, here we are. You've been put to the test and you've failed. And I don't know what to do with that. How to wrap my head around it? How to forgive it? Before today, if you'd asked me what would happen if Edward showed up on this doorstep and begged me to take him back, I would have told you in no uncertain terms that I would send him away. That I would choose you. That you were my future. But now?" he shook his head. "I don't know what I want anymore. You introduced doubt into this relationship and I don't know if it can ever be removed. If you're not strong enough to resist H., even after he behaved so wretchedly to you, got married and even went as far as impregnating his wife. If all that and having me in your life wasn't enough to make you be able to resist him, then how can I be sure I wouldn't do the same thing?"

I grasped his hand, because it was killing me that I'd made him doubt himself. Of all the possible damages caused by my lapse in judgment, this was one I never considered, and this one was hard.

"Jasper, what I did today, it's me, it's my weakness. It's like you said, you'd already been tested and you made it. You made it without me or someone like me in your life. You were able to resist even when you were alone. This doesn't change anything for you. It's all me. I was weak and stupid and unable to resist. I fucked up."

He looked down at his hands. "And that's the other side of the coin. You did fail that test. I wasn't enough to make you resist him. And if I forgive you this time, if I decide to give you a second chance and we continue this relationship, and I move here, and I build my life with you, what will happen if the next time he calls you do the same thing? I don't know if I can face that. I mean," he turned his head and looked me square in the eyes. "Can you guarantee me right now that if he ever calls you again, if he ever says he needs you again, that you will tell him no and turn him away? Can you swear that?"

I stared at him, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. I should have anticipated this most reasonable and basic question, yet I had no ready answer. I should have said yes; most emphatically, definitely yes; I would never, ever go to H. again; never place our relationship at risk like that again. But the part of me that caused me to tell him about this in the first place, the stupid honest part, stopped me from speaking.

Chapter 5

Click here to read Disclaimer and Warning.

Chapter 5: Fallout

"Rick? Can you swear to me that the next time H. calls you'll just ignore him?" Jasper asked again, his voice filed with incredulity at my lack of response. I could see his anger rising to a simmer underneath the surface. If I waited much longer or answered this wrong, I was certain it would boil over. And yet...

"H. has been a part of my life for so long, Jasper, and he's not just a casual fuck. I would never do this again, of course, but if he needed me, as a friend..."

"What?" he nearly shouted again. "You have to be kidding me, Rick? You are kidding, right?" He stood up and started pacing. "You mean to tell me if he called you and said he desperately needed to talk and there was no one else, you'd go running to him again? Isn't that how today started as well? He just wanted to talk to you as a friend? Look how well that worked out. Fuck!" he ran his hand through his fringe to push it back off his forehead. "I can't do this," he said, almost to himself. "I just can't."

He turned and walked out of the living room, headed for the front door. I was up and nearly sprinted to follow him, grabbing his arm just as he reached for his keys and wallet.

"Wait, please," I pleaded. "This can't be it. Let's keep talking."

"I think I've heard enough," he retorted bitterly.

"Jasper, I didn't mean it the way it sounded."

"Really, Rick? I'm sorry, but I don't believe you. I watched you and I know you meant every word. Oh, yes, I know it would only be a friendly meeting on your part. That would be your only intent. But I saw the other truth in your eyes too. If the same thing happened again, if he pushed you for more again, you wouldn't be able to deny him any more than you were able to today, would you?" Would you?" he shouted when I didn't answer the first question. I trembled under his withering gaze and said nothing. I couldn't say anything, because I wasn't one hundred percent certain he was wrong. God help me, I wanted to be certain, but deep inside, I knew the scenario he painted was a possibility. Even now, even after all this, I still couldn't be sure that I'd be able to resist.

Jasper reached for the handle and yanked the door open.

"Where are you going?" I asked desperately.

"To think," he answered coldly.

"When are you coming back?" I was proud of myself for managing to ask when, rather than if he was coming back at all, which was what I really feared.

"I don't know," he said even as he made his way down the stairs. "I suppose when I've figured out what I want to do next," his bitter words carried up from the stairwell, even though I could no longer see him. I leaned against the door frame and slid down to the floor, my eyes overflowing with tears again. I vaguely wondered if there was a limit? Did one ever cry so much that the tears simply ran out? I had a feeling I was about to find out.

Eventually I crawled into the apartment and shut the door behind me, reaching up to flip the deadbolt locked. I leaned back against the door and continued crying, having no energy to move elsewhere. A good amount of time passed, I didn't know how long. Eventually the tears did stop and my stomach rumbled rebelliously, reminding me it's been forever since I ate. I was hungry, but had no appetite, so I dug out a box of dry cereal and chased it with a beer. I desperately wanted to drink something stronger, something to knock me out and put an end to the pain, but I needed to be sober in case Jasper came back and wanted to talk, so I stopped with the one beer, which in itself hit me harder than it normally would, given my empty stomach.

After I ate and drank I went back to the living room and lay back down on the sofa. I didn't turn on the lights. There was no point. I didn't need to look at anything. I sat in the dark waiting for Jasper. I didn't think I'd be able to sleep at all, but eventually I dozed, though the slightest noise would jolt me awake. Each time I hoped it was a sign of Jasper returning. Each time I was disappointed. I worried about him. He wasn't new to London any more, and he had people to stay with or could find a hotel room if need be, but without knowing exactly where he was, my mind came up with all sorts of horrific scenarios. I shouldn't have let him go when he was so angry. I should have done something to stop him, or else I should have been the one to leave. After what I did, I didn't deserve to be home, safe and sound, while he was out there somewhere.

The break of dawn brought light into the room, but not to my thoughts. From what Greg and Jasper told me about what happened with Edward, Jasper had a history of running away. Was that what he was doing now? Would someone turn up later today to pick up his things and he would simply disappear from my life never to be seen again, the same way he handled things with the last asshole he was with? The thought made me as angry as sad. I felt I deserved more than that, but then he deserved more than he got from me too.

For lack of anything better to do, and because I needed the distraction, I made breakfast and ate, alone, at the bistro table, looking out the window but seeing nothing, just waiting for the click of the door. After I was done and had sat in place for a good half hour, I washed up and put away the dishes. I didn't know what to do with myself next. I watched the clock, feeling the unbelievable weight of every second as I waited for the minute numbers to change, one by one. I finally closed my eyes, and though I would have sworn I would not be able to fall asleep, when I opened them again it was nearly an hour later, though the apartment was just as silent and empty as it had been when I nodded off. I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. I couldn't do this much longer. Another half hour and I would call Greg, to see if Jasper had gone there. It was the most logical thing for him to do, though if he hadn't I'd have to explain to Greg what happened, and I could not imagine anything I wanted to do less.

I was nearly picking up the phone to make my call when I heard his key in the lock. I stood up, instantly alert, and faced the entryway. I had no idea what to expect or what was expected of me. The most important thing would be to find him safe and in one piece. I figured we'd wing everything else.

He was wearing the clothes he left in and he hadn't showered, which meant he hadn't stayed with Greg and Viktor. If the clothes hadn't been a dead giveaway, the smell would have been. He reeked of cigarettes and cum. I felt bile rise in my throat as I instantly knew how he'd spent the night. My first thought was that I hadn't figured Jasper for "an eye for an eye" kind of chap. My second was a memory of him threatening me if I did anything to get between Greg and Viktor. That Jasper could give as good as he got, and then some. And here he was in person. I had gone out and fucked an old lover. He'd shown me that two could play that game, and he didn't even need someone waiting in the wings.

"You should have called," I complained, unable to keep the accusation from my voice. "I was worried."

"Yeah, maybe," he brought his hand to rub the back of his neck. Normally I loved that gesture. He only ever did it when he knew I was right about something. It was a completely unconscious tell on his part. My own little Jasper secret that even he didn't know about. It gave me no pleasure to see it this morning. "Sorry. I wasn't thinking."

He might not have been thinking, but it was clear that he had been doing, and exactly what he had been doing too. The only question was who, and even that hardly mattered. I knew it was none of my four closest friends, paired up and exclusive to each other as they were. As far as other men went, one was as bad as the next.

"I'm gonna take a shower and change, and then we should talk, yeah?"

I very nearly asked him if he wanted company. It was such an instinctive thing to do, especially when I too needed to shower and change. I bit my tongue back at the last second, nodding silently, my stomach in knots over how this morning's conversation would be different from our last. Now that he had gone and fucked some random stranger, were we on a level playing field? Was this what he needed to do to be able to forgive me? And did I have any right to get angry when, in essence, I drove him to do what he did by hooking up with my ex? I had loads of questions and no answers.

He showered and changed quickly, and was back in the living room, albeit with damp hair, within 10 minutes. We looked at each other, fidgeting uncomfortably, not knowing what to do. The scent of his shampoo and the sandalwood cinnamon soap wafted over, filling my nostrils and soul with longing. He was within arm’s reach, yet he seemed miles away.

"As you probably guessed, I wasn't alone last night," he finally said. I nodded, the knot in the pit of my stomach growing with his confirmation.

"I want you to know that I didn't leave here last night with the intention of doing that. I just needed to get away and have something to drink. I needed to be away from here and away from . . ." he paused. I wanted to tell him he needn't have done that, as we both knew what he was going to say. He needed to be away from me. He'd made no effort to hide his contempt for me during his tirade the previous evening. "But I certainly didn't go out looking for a hook up or imagine that I'd run into anyone I'd want to go home with."

"But you did." It hurt to say it, but we needed to have everything out in the open.

"Yes," he didn't elaborate. I couldn't decide if this was a good or a bad thing. I had a morbid need to know every detail of the seduction and the aftermath, but enough sense to realize that the pain that would follow would be excruciating and permanent. I left the decision to him. "I know it's hard to believe," he finally offered, "but it wasn't about revenge or evening the score. That's what I realized this morning, when I could think straight again. What you did put me in the right place at the right time and allowed me to be open to the possibility, but what I did last night wasn't about you or us, it was purely about me."

I stared at him, not knowing how to take what he was saying. If what he did wasn't about me cheating, then had he been thinking about it? Had he been unhappy in our relationship? The previous evening, as he was berating me about H., was he really thankful that I had been the one to take the first step on a road he wanted to follow anyway?

"I thought you loved me," I choked out past the pain in my heart. Even as the words tumbled from my lips I realized the unfairness of what I was saying, a sentiment brought into sharp relief by the resentment that momentarily appeared on his face.

"I did, do love you, Rick," he countered. "In a way. I suppose it's the same way you love me, unless . . . Well, I know you haven't been lying to me about that."

"No," I protested, but then looked down in shame. I loved him, and yet I betrayed him. And now he'd betrayed me too.

"We love each other, but it's a different kind of love, a lesser love. We're comfortable, but we're not devoted to each other."

I furrowed my brow, trying to understand what he was saying.

"When I was with James, I desperately wanted someone who wanted me and would care for me, and I thought that would manifest itself by my partner taking almost complete control. That had been a colossal mistake, one I couldn't afford to repeat, so when Edward showed signs of the same behavior, I had to leave. Afterwards, after therapy, intellectually I knew I shouldn't be with men who tried to control me and shape me to their will, but I didn't trust myself not to be attracted to those kinds of men. For a long time it was easier to be alone. Then I met someone who showed me a different way, and I made progress. Since then I've had emotionally healthy experiences with other gay men. But until now, until you, I never experienced thorough happiness in a longer-term relationship of equals. I loved this, Rick. I loved us together. It's been brilliant. I wanted it to last forever. When you asked me stay in London, I actually saw that forever stretching before us. I saw us growing old together, as comfortable in our relationship fifty years into the future as we were in that moment. I thought that was love."

"And now you think differently?"

"I'm not explaining myself very well," he grimaced. "I'd only really begun to put all this together this morning," he sounded apologetic. "My vision is one kind of love. I suppose if you didn't know different and didn't think about it, it would be enough. To be happy and comfortable together. But that kind of love is not enough if your heart craves someone or something else, the way yours obviously does. You and me, we are good together in a lot of ways. We are good friends, we are good lovers, good roommates. But we lack that one piece that joins all the separate good things together into a cohesive whole. That one piece that would mean that there is no one more perfect for me than you and for you than me."

"Jasper," I started, though I had no idea what I really wanted to say.

"It's me as much as it is you, Rick. I mean, if I thought you were the only one for me, I don't think I could have done what I did last night. Like I said, it wasn't revenge or even a desire to be on common ground. I just met another attractive man, we had a great time over a few pints and I wanted to go home with him. It had nothing to do with you or what you did, and everything to do with my desire to see where the night took us."

I swallowed, though my mouth was so dry there was barely any moisture to go down my throat. Did he realize how painful it was for me to hear him say these things? Did the fact that I cheated first give him the right to be so callous?

"I'm sorry, Rick," he said then, as if reading my mind, lifting his piercing blue eyes to look at me from beneath his long, wavy blond fringe. "I'm sorry for hurting you like this and I'm even more sorry for everything I said to you yesterday. I felt angry and betrayed and I didn't think about you at all. When I think of how self-righteous I sounded," he looked down again.

"It's okay, Jasper. I understand why you were angry, and I deserved it. I don't know how to respond to you this morning, though. You say you didn't do what you did last night out of the need to get even, but that is the final result, isn't it? So can we now put it all behind us and move forward together. Work on our relationship?"

He looked up at me, surprised. "Haven't you been listening, Rick? We don't have it. That desire, passion, devotion, bond - whatever it is that makes two people so in love they are inseparable and can't imagine life without the other? We do not have that. And I don't think it's something we can work on. Not when you've already given it away to another man. I don't blame you," he said quickly when I opened my mouth to protest. "I just wish you had figured it out before I became involved with you. Then again, I suppose we did have some great times together, and this doesn't have to spoil those memories. And if this had to happen, better now than later, after I moved here."

"So what does all that mean?" He was dancing around it without coming out and saying anything directly.

"I'm gonna move back in with Greg and Viktor for the rest of the time I'm here," he stated, and this time there was no room for misinterpretation. "I forgive you to the extent there's anything to forgive. I hope you can do the same with me. I'd like to think some day we can be friends again, but right now it just hurts too much, so I would kindly ask you to keep away and not try to contact me before I go back home. I think that would be best, for both of us. And now I'd better go pack. Greg and Viktor are coming over to help me take my stuff back to their place," he said as he stood up.

"You told them?"

"I had to. They deserved an explanation for why I was asking to crash with them."

I buried my face in my hands. I had been concentrating so hard on the impact of what I did on my relationship with Jasper, I didn't even think about my other friends. I could already feel the weight of Greg's disappointment and Dré's disapproval. Viktor and Vince might try to remain neutral, but I knew they would be disappointed in me as well. Fuck! One mistake, one stupid afternoon. No matter how glorious it had been, it wasn't worth all these repercussions. This entire life that I'd struggled so hard to re-build after H. crushed me the last time just crumbled all around me and I was left sitting in the rubble.

Jasper left me in the living room. I could hear the sounds of him opening and closing drawers in the bedroom, but I couldn't bring myself to get up and help or even watch. I just kept thinking about what he'd said about me giving away my devotion to H. I didn't know If he was wrong or right. I never thought about it in those terms. Had I truly bound up my heart with H.'s so much that I couldn't fully give my love to another man? If so, it was the most pathetic thing I'd ever heard. I shuddered as the reality of my life finally hit me with full force. Jasper was in the other room packing. He was leaving. He didn't want anything to do with me, at least in the short run. I'd taken everything he'd ever felt for me, every beautiful moment of happiness we shared, and ground it to unrecognizable pile of fine dust, which he'd just blown apart with a single huff. I stared around frantically, fully cognizant of how empty the flat and my life would be without him in it. I couldn't just let him go without a fight.

I rose and walked to the bedroom. For a moment I stood in the doorway, watching him stuff clothes into his duffel bag. Before he could turn to grab another pile, I strode up to him and grabbed his wrist.

"Jasper, it doesn't have to be like this. I think you have it all wrong. I think you were trying to get revenge and don't want to see yourself that way so you came up with this whole theory to justify leaving, but you're wrong. This is wrong. I fucked up and hurt you and you went out and hurt me right back and I get that. I deserved that. But that doesn't have to mean everything's over between us. I still love you. I think you still love me. Why isn't that enough?"

"You tell me, Rick. We loved each other before you slept with H. Why wasn't it enough?" he barked sharply, pulling his wrist from my grasp. The calm Jasper who confronted me earlier was once again gone. "I tried to give you an answer. If you don't want to accept that, fine, but it's the best theory I've got. Maybe you're right. Maybe it's not that H. is so wonderful. Maybe I'm the one who just wasn't right enough, and you need to keep looking for that perfect man. Whatever it is, you're the only one who can figure it out. And I need to move on. I need to figure out what the hell is wrong with me that I keep getting suckered in by men who claim to love me. Guess I still have some learning to do."

I winced. It hurt to be lumped in with the men who had hurt him before. It hurt even more that I'd made him question himself, that I'd chipped away at the self-confidence it had taken him so much time to regain.

"I wasn't just claiming to love you and it was never my intention to sucker you into anything. I wish I could make you understand how much I want to be with you. How much I want to make up for what I did. How much I still love you and how painful it is to imagine even a day without you."

"Imagining a whole day without me might be painful, but you did just fine for an afternoon, didn't you?" his voice was thick with sarcasm.

"As did you for the night," I took the bait and instantly regretted it. This back and forth sniping wasn't helping anything. I spoke again, in a calmer, more conciliatory tone. "Look, we both gave into temptation, whatever our motives were. Neither one of us is perfect. Can't we just acknowledge that and go forward?"

He didn't respond for a while and I could see that he was thinking about how to answer, which gave me hope. At least he didn't reject the idea out of hand. But hope died with the first word of his eventual response.

"No, Rick, we can't. I was willing to throw my life into an upheaval before and move here for you, but now, with what just happened, I can't justify making that kind of a change. And I don't think either of us is foolish enough to believe we can make a transatlantic romance work, not with what just happened. Let's just cut our losses and say goodbye, and with time maybe we can salvage enough out of what we had to be on friendly terms again. Now please, Greg and Viktor will be here any minute. Let me pack before this all gets much uglier than it already is."

Defeated by his calm and his logic, I tucked my tail between my legs and went back out to the living room while he continued packing. A few minutes later there was a knock on the door, and I unlocked it to let Greg and Viktor in. I stood aside as they entered, watching them warily. We didn't hug, as we normally would in greeting.

"He's in the bedroom," I finally said to break up the awkward silence. "He should be almost ready."

"Are you all right, mate?" Greg asked, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You look like shit."

"That's basically how I feel," I confirmed.

"Jasper called to tell me what happened, but I didn't want to believe him. I told him surely there was some mistake. You misspoke or he misunderstood. Please tell me you didn't really . . ."

I gave him a dark look that answered his question.

"Damn, Rick," he said in that disappointed tone I'd heard so many times before. "What were you thinking? Why?"

I shrugged. What could I say in my own defense? That I wasn't thinking. That being with H. seemed to rob me of my ability to reason? That my body responded to him in ways I could not control? None of that would be helpful.

"Hey guys." The three of us turned at the sound of Jasper's voice from within the flat. "Thanks for coming over. I think I'm all done and ready to go."

Viktor went up to him and drew him into a warm hug, making it easy to see who had his sympathies. "Come," he said, leading Jasper to the bedroom. "We get bags."

"I don't know what to say," Greg floundered. "You and Jasper had such a great thing going. You seemed so happy. . ."

"I don't have an explanation for you, Greg. Not one that will make any sense."

Viktor and Jasper came back into the hallway. Jasper had his messenger bag slung over one shoulder and was carrying a small gym bag. Viktor had two larger duffel bags.

"Here, Vik, I'll take one of those," Greg said, reaching out to his partner. Viktor handed him the smaller of the two bags.

"I'll call you later, alright?" Greg said on his way out. I just nodded my agreement, grateful that at least I haven't lost him completely, at least not yet. Viktor walked out without a word, making me wonder if he would ever speak to me again. Jasper was last. He paused beside me and looked up at me, his blue eyes swimming with unshed tears.

"Jasper, please, stay," I made a last ditch effort.

"Thanks for being such a good host," he said, ignoring my plea. "I wish this could have gone differently. I only took my clothes. I left all the things we bought together - they really belong here in the flat. Goodbye, Rick." he walked past me without touching me. I stood and watched him go until he disappeared down the stairs. I didn't close and lock the door until I heard the front door below slam shut and I knew for certain that all three of them were out of the building.

Slowly walking back to the bedroom, I surveyed the scene he left behind. At first glance, it was hard to notice the difference. With all the drawers and wardrobes pushed shut, it was hard to notice anything missing. The first thing I saw was his key, left behind on the dresser. The second was the picture frame that once held a photo of the two of us on the millennium bridge, the imposing industrial facade of the Tate Modern in the background. The picture was gone, leaving only the gaping emptiness in the center of the frame. I was surprised that he took the photo and momentarily hopeful, thinking it might be a sign that he still had feelings for me. Then I looked in the bin and saw the shreds that remained of the photo. He had meticulously torn it up into such minuscule pieces it would take a forensics team to put it back together. I was sure he remembered that it was a digital photo and that I could re-print it any time. The destruction wasn't about the picture at all. It was all symbolism of how he felt about our relationship, and I got the message loud and clear. Our relationship, just like the picture, had been torn apart beyond repair.

Chapter 6

Click here to read Disclaimer and Warning.

Chapter 6: Regret

After Jasper left I couldn't stay in the bedroom, so I collapsed on the living room sofa and eventually fell asleep. There were no more tears. I must have used them all up before. Instead, I was left with a feeling of extreme emptiness and lack of worth. I'd so carelessly thrown away a man who loved me and made me happy, all for a single afternoon fuck. No matter how it may have felt at the time, it hadn't been worth it. But I deserved everything that happened afterwards, and I had no one to blame but myself.

I spent the rest of the Saturday and all of Sunday on the sofa, except for a few bathroom breaks and trips to the kitchen when hunger became too difficult to ignore. Following my mom's advice, I made a pot of tea to feel better. When I'd drained that without obtaining the desired results, I switched to gin, then vodka, then whatever was left in the various bottles in the house. Waking up Monday with a throbbing headache and a violent need to hug the toilet without the ability to make it there fast enough did not inspire me to get ready for work, so I called in sick instead. My head felt as though someone was pounding rail spikes through it and light stabbed my eyes. The stench in the living room would have been enough to make me throw up again, but the dry heaves indicated I really had not quite eaten enough over the weekend, which was just as well. As further punishment, I forced myself to clean up the mess, then take a lukewarm shower before drying off and collapsing naked on the bed. I slept off and on all day, waking up from various nightmares only to drift off again. I ignored the phone by jamming a pillow over my head when it began to ring incessantly. Whoever it was and whatever they wanted would just have to wait until I managed to recover.

Sometime later I woke, feeling a warm hand resting on my back. I tensed, then threw the pillow off my head and turned to look at the hand's owner.

"Bloody hell, Rick. You're a fucking mess. What the fuck have you done to yourself?"

"Go away, Greg," I groaned. "You shouldn't be here."

"You're probably right," he admitted, "because you acted like a complete shit to one of my good friends, and from everything I've heard you don't deserve any pity."

"Don't want your pity," I mumbled.

"Yeah, well, guess what? You're my best mate and have been forever and if I want to pity you I damn well will, with or without your permission. Now, are you really sick or were you just too pissed to go to work?"

"Both," I said, "but I don't need a minder. I'll get better eventually. I always fucking do, don't I?"

"Yeah, you do," he acknowledged. Silence descended on us like a heavy cloak. It felt stifling, oppressive. As uncomfortable as I was beginning to feel, going back to sleep was impossible. I shifted nervously, changing my position, suddenly self-conscious, wondering what he was thinking. Losing Jasper was terrible, but it was a just punishment for my crime. I never considered, however, that my decision might cost me all my mates as well. Greg had come, but if I pushed him away now would he ever return or allow me back in his life?

"You know, I really would have thought doing stupid shit that gets you to a point this low would have gotten old for you by now," his voice, though quiet, startled me. "And I would have thought you'd realized long ago that any interaction you have with H. eventually gets you to this point. I failed to consider that maybe you enjoy this. Maybe you're just a glutton for punishment who can't stand to be happy. And if that's the case, I guess I won't interfere with your wallowing," he lifted his hand off my back and I felt him rise off the bed. I panicked. Losing my group of friends would hurt, but of all of them, he was the only one who really mattered. Greg had been there for me through thick and thin, and while I never acknowledged as much to him, he was absolutely vital to me. Now he was leaving, and as disgusted as he sounded with me, I feared it might be for good.

"Greg, don't go," I pleaded, turning my head to look at him. "Please stay. I do need to talk. I do need a friend," I watched his face as he considered my request and I could tell he was struggling. "Please?" I added, and this seemed to tip the scales. He gave a resigned sigh and straightened to his full height.

"All right, but let's do this right. I'll brew up some coffee while you get dressed and we can talk out there," he tilted his head towards the living room. "Think you can handle that?"

I gave him a nod and watched as he left the bedroom before I stood up and retrieved a fresh shirt and jeans out of my chest of drawers, scrupulously avoiding the drawers that had been Jasper's, and would now be empty. I stopped in the bathroom to relieve myself and grab pills for the headache before heading into the living room. I didn't see Greg, but my nose told me he was in the kitchen, cooking. My stomach grumbled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten in over a day. I followed the delicious scent and found Greg frying up eggs and bacon.

"I know it's not morning, but I figured you'd be hungry, and this was the easiest thing to make. Hope you don't mind," he said.

"Hell no, it smells great. And I'm starving. What can I do?"

"Get yourself a plate and a couple of mugs for our coffee, yeah? Everything is just about ready. I put some toast in for you and I have tomatoes warming," he pointed to the covered saucepan on the stove and gave me a small smile. I felt myself choking up. I didn't deserve a best mate as good as him and told him so as I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my chin on his left shoulder.

"All right, now. Don't be melodramatic," he said with a chuckle as he lifted his left hand up and back to pat my head. "You'd do the same for me."

I wished I could definitively say that was true, but it really hadn't been the case in the past. Of course, before he met Viktor I was the one who caused the most man trouble for Greg, so he couldn't exactly come to me with his problems. I supposed I would do better now. Still, of the two of us, he was by far the more selfless one. I realized I would have to do something to show him just how much his friendship meant to me.

I released him and took the dishes out of the cabinet, filing the mugs with hot coffee and doctoring it up the way we both liked. When it was ready, I retrieved the toasted bread from the toaster and passed the plate to Greg, who filled it with the eggs, bacon and tomatoes. He reached into a drawer to grab utensils and carried the food out to the bistro table in the living room, while I followed with the coffee.

"Eat first," he said, setting the plate in front of me. "Then we'll talk."

I was much too hungry to protest. Silently I tucked in and, like a talented magician, made the food disappear in almost an instant.

"Thanks, Greg," I said gratefully when I finished. "That was brilliant."

He nodded and sipped his coffee, watching me carefully. I took a large gulp of the hot beverage and swallowed, perversely satisfied with the way the liquid burned my throat, feeling like it was the least I deserved after the pain I caused Jasper.

"A scalded throat isn't going to make anything better," Greg observed insightfully. "Hurting yourself now won't change anything."

I nodded and took a smaller sip, which I allowed to cool in my mouth before swallowing. Silence fell around us for a moment, before I finally broke it.

"How's Jasper?" I probably didn't have the right to ask, but I needed to know.

"Surprisingly all right, given what's happened. He's moody, mostly. Sometimes he's angry, sometimes sad, sometimes he's all sorts of Zen and peaceful, accepting..."

"Sometimes he's happy?" I interrupted with a question, not wanting to hear the statement from his mouth. Greg looked at me sharply.

"No, I haven't seen that," he shook his head as he spoke, "and I don't think I will anytime soon. He loved you, Rick. That kind of emotion doesn't go away just because the other guy fucks you over."

"You think I, of all people, don't know that?" I asked bitterly. He looked away.

"I know you know it. What I can't figure out is why you'd do to someone else what has been done to you, knowing damn well how it feels."

I set my mug down on the table and buried my head in my hands. If only I had a good answer to his question.

"I don't know how it happened, Greg. I wanted to resist him, but it was impossible. It's like we're two magnets. If we get too close, it becomes impossible not to connect."

"That's bullshit, mate," he said scornfully.

"Is it?" I lashed out. "Why did you keep hanging around me after everything that happened with H. when we were younger? Why couldn't you let me go?"

He narrowed his eyes, then took a deep breath. "Because there wasn't anyone better around, and I was too fucking scared to be alone. But as soon as I found Viktor, I did let you go. You're still my mate, and I love you, but those old feelings are long gone. Viktor's my world now. And Jasper should have been yours."

I hung my head, knowing he was right.

"I don't get it," Greg said quietly. "I've tried, but I can't. He left you, he got married, I was there and I saw what that did to you. It was the most gut-wrenching thing I'd ever seen. I know I'll never forget it. How could you?"

I shook my head. How could I offer an explanation for something that was even beyond my comprehension.

"You were happy with Jasper, Rick. You were in love. And he was in love with you too. Christ, he was going to move here for you; leave everyone he knew behind, for you! You had this great thing going and you made it all go to cock. I don't get it," he repeated.

"I thought I was over H.," I said bitterly. "He called and said he wanted to apologize and I thought I could just go to hear him out, get closure, and that would be the end of it. I never imagined anything like what happened. I never would have thought him capable of cheating on Ginny."

Greg laughed a mirthless laugh and narrowed his eyes. "That's right, we can now add cheating to his repertoire of destruction. Although he cheated on you with her, didn't he? When he first started seeing her and told you nothing until he was already engaged? The bastard. I feel sorry for her. I bet she hasn't a clue what kind of a man she married."

"She's a money grubbing, social climbing bitch," I spat out, recalling H.'s complaints.

"Really?" Greg raised his eyebrow as he spoke. "I suppose he told you that, and you believed him? Because he'd been so honest with you in the past? Because he'd never lie to manipulate you and get his way?"

I didn't bother to defend H., because Greg was right. H. had been dishonest and manipulative. I didn't want to think about it too much, but I wouldn't have found it hard to believe that he set the whole hotel scene up too - that there never were any colleagues in the bar, because he never had any intentions of meeting in the bar at all. But then he didn't put a gun to my head or force me to stay. If he was a shit, I was one too. A perfect match. Did I really care if he was lying about Ginny? Would it make a difference if she was a complete innocent - the perfect wife and victim in all this? Thinking of her as a social climbing Harpy made what I did slightly more palatable, but only just.

"You're right," I finally admitted. "I don't know if what H. told me about Ginny is accurate or not, and what we did was wrong regardless of her personality. I had no idea I could be this much of an arsehole. Honestly, I never meant to hurt Jasper. I'd do anything to take it all back. I'd do anything to get him to forgive me. Could you talk to him for me, Greg? We didn't really have a chance to talk Saturday morning. I mean, he came home and basically told me he was moving out. He'd made the decision. There was nothing I could do or say. I think he was too hasty. I think it was just the pain talking, and maybe now that he'd had a little distance and time to cool off..."

Greg shook his head. "I'm sorry, mate, but Jasper's a friend too and it's his choice. I can't take sides. I'm already out on a limb just being here. Viktor's not exactly happy with me right now. I never told you, but the guy he was with just before me cheated on him, numerous times. Viktor broke it off as soon as he found out, and then took the job with Arsenal to get away from his ex. So obviously he sympathizes with Jasper in this situation, especially since he also saw what H. did to you at the wedding and was there to help you get through that. He sees what you did not just as a crappy thing to do to Jasper and Ginny, but also as an insult to our friendship."

"And you? How do you feel?"

"I'm here, aren't I? I'll tell you the same thing I told Viktor. Obviously what you did was wrong, and I hate that you hurt a mutual friend in the process, but I'd be a lousy man if I was never able to see past my friends' mistakes. I know better than anyone how irrational you are when it comes to H. The way I see it, it's when you stumble that I need to be here for you the most."

I snickered a little and he bristled. "What?" he growled.

"Nothing," I was serious again and reached to grasp his hand, suddenly fearful that I may have alienated the best and possibly last friend I had. He arched his eyebrow in a way that made it impossible for me not to reveal my thoughts. "All right," I gave in. "What you said reminded me of that footprints thing. You know, that thing where a guy walks on the beach with God and during the hard times there's only one set of footprints because that's when God carried him?"

Greg looked at me incredulously, then burst out laughing. It was my turn to ask "What?" In response, he hummed the opening riff from a Depeche Mode song. I groaned.

"So I'm your own personal Jesus, huh?" he asked eventually, still laughing.

"If the bare feet fit," I said with a shrug. Slowly Greg became serious again.

"So now what, Rick? Have you given that any thought?"

I shook my head. "Guess I just try to go on, do the best I can, same as I've always done. I'm sure I won't see H. again anytime soon. Do Vince and Dré know?" Greg nodded in response. "And what did they have to say?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Surprisingly little," Greg admitted. "I suppose it wasn't a surprise that Vince didn't say anything, but Dré keeping quiet was unexpected. We met up with them Saturday night. Jasper stayed home with Lena, but insisted that we go without him. We figured he needed time alone, so we met Dré and Vince at Molly's. I fully expected Dré to be his usual sarcastic self, but all he said was that H. was a fucking lying coward and that it would serve him right if we outed him."

"Greg, he wouldn’t, would he?" I asked, alarmed.

"No. You know Dré. He likes to hear himself talk, but he would never do that to another bloke, even H. It's almost funny to see how much his opinion of H. has changed over the years. In the beginning they were rivals, remember? And then they became friends, and Dré even defended H. for a while," Greg shook his head. "I never understood that. And then later still he slowly started to change his mind again and now seems to be back in full on hatred mode."

"Brilliant," I said darkly. Dré could be a right miserable bastard when he hated someone. "He'll be a joy to be around."

"Yeah," Greg grimaced. "And you may have to handle him yourself. Well, you and Vince. Jasper told us that he doesn't want to interfere with our friendship, but he also doesn't want to see you. Viktor was beside himself at the suggestion that we go out with you instead of him. So for a while, at least until Jasper returns to America, you probably won't be seeing much of us."

"Viktor is really angry with me, huh?"

"He feels people who cheat on their partners cannot be trusted, and he doesn't want to be around people he can't trust."

I winced. I definitely understood where Viktor was coming from. But was one lie that was immediately confessed enough to mark me a liar for life?

"Doesn't the fact that I told Jasper immediately count for anything?'' I asked Greg. "I mean, I know I fucked up. I know confessing can't take that away, but fuck, it's not like I murdered anyone. And Jasper got his own back immediately, didn't he? I mean, Jesus, one fucking mistake, one moment of weakness..."

"Viktor will come around. I'll work on him. It's just hard for him now, especially when he knows our history and I'm insisting on staying friends with you. He's worried about what kind of influence you'll be. He's worried about what you might try."

I sat back in my chair in shock.

"He thinks I'd try to get you to sleep with me? To cheat on him? Is he crazy? First of all, I respect you way too much to ever try that, to put you in that position. And second, do I look like I have a fucking death wish? I know damn well if I ever got anywhere near you like that he'd feed me my cock and balls for dinner. Not to mention what Jasper would do."

"Jasper?" Greg, who started to smile when I talked about Viktor, became puzzled.

"Yeah. You don't know, but Jasper can be quite intimidating when he wants to. Remember when we met up with him in New York? You and Viktor had just started dating and I'd broken up with H. again. I may have mentioned something to Jasper about regretting not seeing you that summer, when H. and I were apart, and wondering if I should see if there was still something between us. He told me in no uncertain terms that if I ever did anything to come between you and Viktor he would make sure I suffered. And you know what? He was deadly serious and I totally believed him. He was damn hot too, with that icy, threatening demeanor. And he was right about you and Viktor. But his threat aside, you have to know I would never do anything to mess up what you have with Viktor. In fact, if staying friends with me is too much of a strain, I'd rather lose you than be a point of contention between you."

Greg smiled. "You don't have to worry about me and Vik. If I ever had to make a choice, I would choose him. But this is not that time. Viktor is a little shook up, but deep down he knows he can trust me. Just like I have to trust him. And that's not always easy, especially when he's away with the team. Fans throw themselves at him and the other players all the time. He has to refuse a lot of temptation."

"It's not like you don't have temptations while he's gone," I pointed out. "All those guests that come on the show. I mean, that's how you met him, right?"

Greg chuckled. "You sounded just like Vik just now. He teases me like that, but he knows how hard he had to try to even get me to go to dinner with him, never mind sleeping with him. I'm not the philandering type."

"Neither is he," I pointed out. "I've never seen anyone more devoted to their partner, except maybe Vince to Dré. For Viktor the sun rises and sets with you, you know that."

He gave a small smile, acknowledging the truth of my statement.

"It's the same for both of us with each other. We're very lucky."

"Yeah, mate, that you are. And I'm glad you found each other. You deserve a man like Viktor."

Greg did deserve someone who would love him the way Viktor did, not someone who would see him at best as a consolation prize, the way I always would if we'd gotten back together. Form the moment we met H. had always been the one for me, and maybe my willingness to ignore all his faults meant that I deserved what I got as well?

"You deserve a good man too," Greg said as though he read my mind. "Don't let H. or anyone else, including yourself, tell you different."

I looked down at the table without comment. I feared his advice came much too late. Whether I liked it or not, H. had my heart. Apparently him marrying a woman and me finding a wonderful loving man weren't quite enough to extract it from his hold.

"Fuck, Rick, I wish I knew how to break this hold he has on you. It's like he's some sort of a wizard who put a spell on you or something."

I chortled at that a little. "A wizard, Greg? That's so ridiculous, I can't believe you'd actually said it out loud. And what would that make me? Sleeping Beauty? Rapunzel?"

He laughed with me. "Yeah, all right, it does sound ridiculous. Still, Rick, it makes no sense that you keep going back to him time and time again. It never made any sense. There is no shortage of great, good looking guys who would be thrilled to be with you. Hell, you had one living with you under your roof."

"But he didn't really love me, did he?" I challenged. "He said so himself. If he had, he wouldn't have been able to spend Friday night fucking some stranger he'd just met at a pub."

Greg frowned. "That surprised me," he admitted. "Viktor too. But Rick, he was probably devastated. I can only imagine if I found out Vik had gone back to have sex with his ex. I wouldn't have my head on right either. No telling what I might do. It's a big blow to find out a man who tells you he loves you decided to fuck someone from his past. Maybe he just needed to feel wanted. He didn't really want to talk about it with us, other than to say that he didn't do it to hurt you or to get revenge."

I squeezed my eyes shut. Greg wasn't telling me anything I didn't already know, but hearing that Jasper might have slept with another man because he needed to feel wanted was another punch in the gut. I thought back to how Jasper told me about the other guy. At the time his matter of fact description of what happened felt like he wanted to hurt me, but now I knew there were far more effective ways for him to make me feel like a total shit. He'd opted for a way that put most of the responsibility on him, not at my feet, where it belonged. After all, it didn't matter if he was seeking revenge or comfort, he wouldn't have been in that pub if I hadn't betrayed him first.

"Rick, was it because Jasper's a bottom?"

I opened my eyes, startled by the question.

"I know you switch, but you never did with H., did you? You always bottomed for him. And I know Jasper doesn't top. So was that it?"

"That would be a bloody awful reason to cheat, wouldn't it?" I asked bitterly, disappointed that he could think so little of me. "If I just needed someone to fuck me, I wouldn't have had to wait for H."

"So that wasn't it?" Greg looked at me searchingly.

"No. I mean, it would have been great if Jasper switched, but we talked about it and I knew he wasn't interested in that soon after we started seeing each other. And I was fine with that. I don't know how to explain it, Greg. I know I made fun of you before, but when I'm with H. it is a little like I'm under a spell. I try to think rationally, but everything becomes fuzzy. There's a connection between us that I can't explain, because it makes no sense to me, much less anyone else. It's like we're bound together."

He shook his head. "You need to find a way to break that bond, mate. He's like an anchor pulling you under, drowning you. He's only thinking of himself, always has. You need to do the same. You can't change what happened this time, but don't go back to him, Rick. It's wrong for you and wrong for Ginny and this child she's carrying. You can live without him. You've demonstrated that every time you've been apart. You just need to be firm and say no the next time he calls or comes around."

I nodded, knowing he was right, and knowing too that it was a lot easier for him to say than it would be for me to do. "I'll try," was the best I could promise.

I felt better after my talk with Greg, well enough to get a good night's sleep and return to work the following day. I accepted my co-workers' sympathies on the food poisoning I made up to cover my absence, and otherwise hid behind the closed doors of my office, catching up on the backlog of e-mails and projects. When my phone rang, I didn't even think before picking up the receiver, certain it would be yet another inquiry about an analysis delayed by my "illness."

"Hello, Rick," his voice, while quiet, was unmistakable. "Are you feeling better?"

"I am, much, thanks," I launched into my standard response before I had a chance to think. Then, realizing the surprising nature of the call, I became suspicious. "How do you know I haven't been well, H.?"

"You weren't answering your phone yesterday, so I stopped by your office, hoping to see you. The receptionist said you were out ill."

"What? You were here yesterday? Why?"

Silence stretched as he contemplated how to answer a question that he surely should have anticipated.

"I wanted to talk to you about Friday," he finally said. "When you weren't answering your phone, I thought you might be avoiding me. I went by your office hoping you wouldn't refuse to see me in person."

I was stunned. Calling me, as he had been doing all of last week and this week, was out of character enough. For him to actually come by my work place, where someone might recognize him, was unprecedented.

"You could have called me at home," I pointed out. "You know my mobile number."

"I didn't know if he ever answered your phone."

My heart clenched at his mention of Jasper. We never had a hard and fast rule about phones. Practically speaking, either one of us could have answered the other's phone if the other wasn't around to do so himself, but neither one of us ever did. And now neither of us ever would. The realization prompted a surge of bitterness.

"It doesn't matter now. What did you want to talk about? Don't worry. I have no intention of telling your wife what happened, nor will I bother you now or try to keep in touch. I understand we made a mistake, but there's no need to dwell on it. We can just forget about it and go on as if nothing happened."

There was another long silence and I would have wondered if he had severed the connection, except I never heard a dial tone.

"If that's what you want," he finally said, speaking so softly I could hardly hear him. My breath caught and I sat very still, the weight of the conversation suddenly overwhelming.

"I wasn't aware I had a choice," I told him.

"I can't pretend it didn't happen. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it, about you, since you walked out of that room Friday afternoon. It was so good to be with you. I can't stand thinking it was the last time for us."

"What are you telling me, H.? You're gonna divorce Ginny and come out? You're finally ready to be with me, publicly and officially?" I held my breath again, hoping against hope, even though I knew an affirmative answer would have been the equivalent of riding a unicorn to the end of the rainbow to accept a pot of gold from a smiling leprechaun. Not surprisingly, neither happened.

"I can't do that, Rick. I just can't. You know that. But I can't live without you either."

"You can live without me, H. You have lived without me since before your wedding. You made your choice. You can't have her and me both."

"Is it him? Are you worried about how hurt he'll be if you leave him?" H. asked, sounding desperate and slightly manic. "I understand, Rick. I always loved how compassionate you are. I won't lie to you, I hate the thought of you with another man. He'll never love you the way I do, and he'll never make you feel the things I make you feel. But you don't even have to make a choice. You can stay with him like I'll stay with Ginny, and we can get together from time to time, maybe once a week. Neither of them has to know," he urged.

For a moment I was too stunned by his suggestion to respond. Then slowly, as if someone else was guiding my hand, I placed the receiver in its cradle.