Title: Can’t Let Go…
Story Type: AU
Word Count: 3976
Warnings: Angst, Longing, Love
Beta Queen: Bigj52
Summary: Some loves you just can’t seem to let go…
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, plot, etc. are property of their respective owners, including, but not limited to Russell T. Davies, Cowlip, and Showtime. The author of this story is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended…
Can’t Let Go…
I’m standing over the recycling bin sorting my mail, half of which is junk mail. How the fuck do I get on so many mailing lists? Tossing my fucking credit card bills on the counter, the last envelope I come across is thick. It has a fancy gold scroll around the border. I know just looking at it, that it’s an invitation to some pathetic fags’ commitment ceremony, or worse, wedding. Standing in front of the liquor cart, I prop it up against the bottle of tequila, as I reach for the whiskey. Sitting in my soft leather chair, I feel the burn of the amber liquid going down my throat, while the envelope is screaming at me from across the room. I rack my brain, trying to think who might be tying the noose around their necks this time. Then my eyes flash for a brief moment to the return address, Brooklyn, NY. Fuck! No! It can’t be him…
Suddenly I can’t breathe, my throat is closing up and the pain in my chest is throbbing. I’m filled with dread and regret, as I know I’m right. My sweet, beautiful Justin is now truly lost to me. I know it’s been over a year since I talked with him, and even longer since I’ve seen him. But… this isn’t how it’s supposed to play out. We fight about the distance between us; he complains that he’s lonely. I tell him it’s just a matter of time. We agree to see other people. Then he comes for a surprise visit, and all the passion and love between us surges to the surface. When did he stop playing the game?
It sat there on the cart for weeks, until one night in a drunken stupor I tore the damn thing open. The honor of your prescence… Blah, blah, blah… FUCK!
Brad’s POV
I just returned from a shopping spree, down on Madison Avenue. After all, I’ll need new clothes to wear on our honeymoon. I’m searching for scissors everywhere, to cut the tags off my new designer jeans. Finally I give up and decide to just search Justin’s desk, even though I know he’ll throw a hissy fit. I don’t understand why he’s so territorial about his damn desk. Why should I care about his contracts from some unknown art gallery, or all the drama Daphne’s going through with her current boyfriend. The top drawer is filled with colored pencils, fine-point markers, and charcoal. There are hundreds of business cards, from museum curators, gallery managers, interior designers, and art supply vendors. The right top drawer is filled with lots of file folders, some with photos of his artwork, others are playbills from art and theater shows he’s attended. The rest is just financial stuff, contracts from his agent, and art shows he’s been featured in.
The top left drawer is filled with dozen of sketch books. Some are full, with drawings of people from Pittsburgh he doesn’t see anymore. Others are drawings of the friends he’s made here in New York, or places he likes to visit. There’s one that features drawings of me and our travels up and down the coastline. I smile, remembering some of the vacations we’ve spent together. Then there’s several sketch books full of Brian, some from when they first met, and others through this last year. I try not to let my jealousy rise to the surface, as I know Brian was a very important person in his life. I’m getting frustrated as I slam the drawer closed and open the next one. It’s full of photographs, with a few letters, and keepsakes mixed in. I can’t help but reach down to flip through a handful. Some of the people I recognize from the art shows he’s dragged me to. Of course, there photos of his mom and sister, and all the friends he used to know back in Pittsburgh. I spot a few pictures of those lesbians that live in Canada, and their little boy, who is kind of cute. Then there’s lots of him and Daphne, from childhood through the present. Amongst all this are photos of Brian, they sure made a beautiful couple. I still can’t believe that he walked away from him, knowing just how much they loved each other over the years. Damn! He sure is gorgeous, whether he’s dressed in his designer suits, or next to nothing at all. In the bottom drawer there’s a carved wooden box. I pull it out and I’m surprised that it’s locked. I shake it and hear something metal rattle around, and I assume that it’s his wedding ring from his almost marriage. I know that it’s full of personal things that mean so much to him. I can’t help wondering why there isn’t a box of mementos from our relationship, seeing just how sentimental he is. I hear him coming as I shove it back in, and close the drawer.
I turn to face him as he enters the room. He looks at me funny, then asks, “What are you doing?”
“Nothing. I was just looking for a pair of scissors.”
“There’s a pair right in front of you, in the pencil holder.”
“Oh… I didn’t see them.”
He frowns and lets it go, thank God. But all afternoon my mind keeps coming back to that locked box, and everything that he holds close to his heart.
Justin’s POV
I‘ve been having second thoughts about getting married. It’s all happening so fast. We’ve only known each other for ten months, but he’s really sweet, and so good to me. We have a lot of fun together, and his family really loves me. We’ve gone away almost every weekend since we met, through all the little towns on the East Coast, but mostly to the Hamptons, as his family has a home right on the ocean. He loves to sail, and the seafood is to die for. He comes from money, his great grandfather was George Eastman; you know, Eastman-Kodak. He is the youngest of the children of his dad’s second family. His mother is twenty five years younger than his dad, so all his older sibling are my mom’s age. His dad’s aunt was Linda Eastman, ie Linda McCartney. It’s kind of crazy knowing that Paul McCartney is coming to my wedding.
Anyways, Daphne is coming next week and staying through the wedding. Oh God, I’m getting married in two weeks! I know I’m just feeling wedding jitters, but I can’t help thinking I should be more excited. I don’t have that ‘butterflies in the stomach’ thing that I had when Brian and I were planning our wedding. I know I shouldn’t let myself think about Brian. I know I’m still in love with him. But I keep telling myself that it’s that first love thing. You know, when you never really get over your first love. I just wish he had loved me enough to marry me, but he just isn’t the marrying kind of guy. I never should have pushed him into a relationship. I know he asked me, but then the article happened, and in the end he never asked me to stay. He never came to New York, and tried to bring me home. After a while he just never even tried to see me again. The truth is, if he showed up today, I’d run away with him in a minute. If he asked.
I toyed with the idea of inviting him to the wedding. Even though Brad and I have talked about my past, I would never want to make him feel uncomfortable. He’s always been so understanding and supportive when I have mentioned Brian to him. I doubt Brian would even come if I invited him. I didn’t invite any of the gang from Pittsburgh either, and I feel kind of bad about that. It’s just that Brad’s family is so different than them and… I don’t know, I guess I’m turning into a snob or something. My mom was surprised, but she supported my decision. She likes Brad; she thinks he’s good for me. But after everything I went through with Brian, she just wants me to be happy, even though I have a feeling that she loves Brian, and wishes that things had worked out. No one wishes that more than me.
The weird thing is that Brad and Brian are very similar in some ways. They both love shopping, and designer labels. They’re strongly opinionated, well-read, and well-traveled. And they both can be very charming when they want to be, and stubborn to the point of being impossible when arguing with them. I guess it’s not surprising that I’d be attracted to someone so similar to Brian. I wonder if I subconsciously sought out someone like Brian, trying to replace him, and never really letting go. I run my finger across his name on the invitation, before tossing it into the drawer. It lands on top of the photo of us from my first art show at the Gay and Lesbian Center. I stare deeply into those beautiful hazel eyes, and my heart gets giddy, remembering how excited I was that he even showed up. It’s been so long since I’ve felt that surge of excitement run through me, making me lightheaded, believing anything is possible. I glance at the one next to it, the one from our rehearsal dinner. I can’t help picking it up. I was so in love then, so close to having all my dreams come true. I hear Brad coming and I slam the drawer shut, shoving the picture into my pocket.
“Good, you’re dressed for dinner. I was afraid you’d still be wearing those ratty jeans and high-tops.”
I love my ratty jeans and high-tops. I hate having to dress in formal attire just to have dinner with his family. Brian would laugh, call them pretentious, conceited snobs…
“Justin! Are you coming? You don’t us want to be late, do you?”
I smile, as I move across the room, feeling the edges of the photo brush across my thigh.
~~~
Brian’s POV
I get home from work, and I’m exhausted, after having put in another ten-hour day at the office. But Kinnetik is really taking off, and I’m so glad Justin encouraged me to open up my own ad agency. I consider picking up the phone to tell him how great everything is going. Then I remember, we don’t really talk anymore. I miss sharing these parts of my life with him. I miss him calling, so excited about being offered to show one of his paintings at a local gallery. Hell, I just miss him… I toss the mail onto the counter and another elegant envelope falls to the floor. It’s identical to the first invitation to his wedding. I quirk my eyebrow, wondering why he would send me another one. I open it and see a hand-written note attached. ‘I know you probably won’t come, but I thought you should know that Justin is getting married. It still breaks my heart that you two were never able to work things out. I would have loved to have you as my son in-law. Love Jennifer.’
I smile, thinking of her, happy that the two of us have come to appreciate each other. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her. After Justin was gone we would often meet for lunch and catch up. It’s funny how people move in and out of your life. My mind shifts to him, and wonder why I let him slip away. Why didn’t I tell him how much I needed him? Why did I feel the need to stick to my old mantras? Why didn’t I go after him? I stare at the invitation, remembering him designing ours, and him fussing over the setting arrangement. I wonder if he still thinks about me.
~~~
Daphne’s POV
I was supposed to come last week, but I needed more time studying for finals, Medical school’s a bitch. I feel a little bad not being here for Justin this last week. He sounded frazzled by all the little last minute details being thrown at him. He seems so grateful that I’m here now as we escape, walking through the gardens surrounding the estate.
He just needs to relax, and enjoy the scenery. I have to say this looks more like a garden he’d paint, than one he’d actually spend time in. He looks sad, and I can’t help feeling that maybe he’s making a mistake. Maybe he’s rushing into this marriage, unsure if this is the future he really wants. It’s like he’s met Prince Charming, and he’s being whisked off to Never, Never Land. To live a life of endless dinner parties, hobnobbing with the upper crust of society. Nightly cocktail hour with the family, formal dinners, sea cruises, and European vacations. Yeah, I guess that sounds pretty fantastic, actually. So why does he look so unhappy, like he wants to cry?
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I… I don’t love Brad. I like him, I’m in deep like. But I’m not madly, deeply, passionately in love with him.”
“Does he know how you feel?”
“I don’t know. I tried to talk with him, but he says it’s just pre-wedding jitters. That I’m just feeling overwhelmed by all the pomp and circumstance.”
“What do you think?”
“I’m not sure you really want to hear what I think. But I can understand being dazzled by high society, ocean front cottages, endless champagne, and let’s face it, Brad is handsome.”
“It’s not me. It’s not the real me, although it’s been like a dream. Being swept off my feet, showered with gifts and weekend getaways. Brad couldn’t be nicer, he says all things that I so long to hear. He says that with time I’ll grow to love him; that marriage isn’t always about love. It’s more about making a contract, an agreement to secure one’s future.”
“It sounds more like a business arrangement. Have you read the pre-nup?”
“No. I don’t even care about the money. I mean, yeah it was hard being a starving artist. But it was like a rite of passage, and I was starting to be successful. I now have an agent, and my work is being recognized. I was even offered a solo show next spring.”
“That’s great! Oh my God! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Brad said that it’s the same month his family always vacations on the French Riviera.”
“So… What does that mean?”
“He expects me to be there with him. He says there will be other shows. He doesn’t think I need to spend so much time focused on my painting.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“He sees my career as more of a hobby. That I barely make enough money to pay my rent, and that he’s giving me a better life.”
“Are you comfortable with that? Maybe it’s not a bad thing, painting when you feel inspired. Not feeling pressured to pay your bills.”
“Maybe you’re right. I just need to relax; everything’s going to be alright.”
~~~
The receptionist looks up from her desk and smiles at the messenger, thinking he looks better than any messenger she’s ever seen before.
“Yes, may I help you?”
“I have a letter for Mr. Kinney.”
“I’ll sign for that.”
“No. This is personal, not business. It needs to be signed for by Mr. Kinney only.”
Irritated, she smiles, and excuses herself to see if Brian is still in a meeting. Returning, she escorts him into Brian’s office, saying he’ll be just a few minutes, he’s finishing up with his presentation. Ten minutes later, Brian returns with a smile on his face, having just landed another nationwide account.
He’s surprised to see someone waiting for him. He asks “What can I do for you?”
“I have a letter for you that needs your signature.”
“Oh…”
Brian takes the clipboard, and signs it. He then takes the ornate envelope, opening it to reveal matching stationery. He sits on the edge of his desk, as he unfolds the beautifully embossed letterhead. From the desk of Bradford Eastman… He’s not sure he wants to read this, but he can’t help his curiosity.
Dear Mr. Kinney,
May I call you Brian? I feel as if I already know you from the way Justin talks about you. I’m not sure if you know that Justin and I plan to marry this evening, but I thought that you should know. Even though I love Justin dearly, and know that we could have a great life together, I also know that I’m not the love of his life. As much as I love him, I don’t want him to spend his life with me, wondering what his life could have been being married to you. I would always wonder, if the timing of your relationship was different, would it have changed the outcome of your nuptials? I know letting him go will surely break my heart, but knowing that he’s happy is more important to me. I can see it in his eyes that he still longs for the love you two shared.
I’ve enclosed an airline ticket, and have arranged for a car service to bring you here tonight, should you choose to rekindle the love I have no doubt still exists between the two of you. The service is set to start at 7 pm. I’ll assume that should I not see you here, you’ve moved on from your relationship with Justin. Then Justin and I will marry, and I hope with time to make him as happy, as he obviously was with you.
Sincerely, Brad
Brian hates feeling his eyes water as he holds back his tears. He wants to hate Brad, wants to think that he’s an arrogant, pompous prick. But the truth is he’s truly stunned by Brad’s gesture, and the love he feels for Justin. The fact that Justin’s happiness means so much to him, that he’s willing to let him go, is reminiscent of his own gesture when Justin left for New York. He’s been handed a second chance, one with an expiration date with just hours to spare. He hesitates for a moment, then realizes that this is it. It’s now or never. It’s time for him to put away his foolish pride and ridiculous mantras. It’s time to make that commitment that’s frightened him for so long. To let go of his self-doubt and to once again take a chance on love.
~~~
Justin’s standing in front of the mirror, straightening his collar and tie, remembering the last time just before his wedding. How Brian looked deeply into his eyes and told him how beautiful he was. He can’t help the tears that well up in his eyes, as he questions once again if he’s doing the right thing. His mother notices and comes to reassure him that it’s natural to question his decision, and she’s sure it’s just pre-wedding jitters. He remembers that he had no doubts about marrying Brian, and then it all fell apart. Lindsay had stood up during the ceremony and questioned him about moving to New York, and throwing his career away. He almost starts crying again, but then grins and pulls himself together. Brad is great; fun, intelligent, kind, gorgeous, and let’s not forget, rich. Then his mind flashes to the wedding invitation still in his desk drawer, never sent. Would it have made any difference? Does Brian still think of him. Could he still love him? He’s brought out of his internal rant when he hears knocking on the door. His mother answers, flustered, as she gestures to Justin that Brad wants to speak with him alone.
“Brad, you shouldn’t be here. It’s bad luck to see each other before the wedding.”
“You’ve always been superstitious.”
Justin thinks, ‘yes I am, remembering the last time before he took his vows.’
“Listen, I’ve been thinking…”
Justin’s heart sinks. Nothing good ever follows ‘I’ve been thinking.’
Justin nods, just waiting for his stomach to drop.
“Maybe we’re rushing into this?”
Justin’s heart starts to race. “Are you really doing this? Are you really dumping me at the altar?”
“I prefer to think of this as saving each other a lot of pain and heartache.”
“You think you’re not breaking my heart right now?”
“I think you need more time to resolve your feelings for Brian.”
“Brian?”
“Yes, I think you’re still in love with him. Your eyes light up and sparkle when you talk about him. Yet, I’ve never seen you look at me that way.”
Justin’s at a loss for words. He knows what Brad is saying is true, but it still hurts hearing that your lover wants to ends your relationship.
“What about all the guests waiting in the formal gardens? What about your parents?”
“Don’t worry about any of that. It will be just another fancy dinner party at the Eastman estates.”
“Brad…”
“Sure, my mom will be disappointed, she really likes you. I really like you. I love you. But I know it’s not right. I know you love me, but you’re not in love with me. I’m sorry, I really don’t mean to hurt you. I know this sounds clichéd, but I hope we can remain friends, good friends. I’m pretty sure that’s all we ever were.”
“I can’t believe you’re doing this.”
“I think you know in your heart, this is the right thing to do.”
Stunned, Justin looks out into space…
“Here, why don’t you go and sit in the east garden. Relax and compose yourself, take all the time you need.”
“Alright…”
“Oh, here, I almost forgot.”
“You’re giving me a parting gift?”
“No. It’s not from me.”
Justin goes and sits on a bench in the rose garden, trying to collect his thoughts and emotions. He holds the box, wondering what it could be. Someone sits down next to him, a little too close.
“I found a florist in Manhattan that specializes in exotic flowers. I figured it must be meant to be, when they actually had golden gardenias.”
Justin’s tears are running down his face, as he turns and looks at Brian. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“Well, when I received a third invitation to your wedding today, I realized that I had better declare my love for you before you married the wrong man.”
“I never sent you an invitation, I thought about it, but…”
“I figured the first one was from Daphne, she always was a true romantic at heart. The second one was from your mom. I think she always thought we’d marry eventually. Surprisingly, the third one was from Brad, with a very heartfelt letter, expressing his doubt that our love had ever really ended. He made me realize what a fool I’ve been, and how much I need you in my life. How much I hope you’ll forgive me for not listening to you, when you told me you weren’t happy in New York. I’ve been miserable without you. I’m still willing to prove to the person that I love, ‘That I’ll be anything, do anything, to prove to him just how much I love him.’”
“Oh, Brian…”
He moves to embrace him, when he realizes he’s still holding the florist box. He opens the box, grinning like a fool as Brian leans in to kiss him. They both inhale the scent of the fragrant blooms as it fills the air. Setting the box aside, Brian takes Justin in his arms and kisses him passionately. They can feel their rapidly beating hearts, as they both know they’re finally ready to make the commitment they’ve waited so long for.
The End…
