THE WIFE OR THE MISTRESS: BOOK II: CHAPTER 9- BROKEN CHANDELIERS Part 2

TED

Where to begin in all of this? Where to begin? I’m not used to talking about myself at all. In fact, when I have been called boring in the past, somehow I always took a little pleasure in it. To me, it meant that I was reliable; my life, predictable. 

And I was okay with that at the time.

But as I sit here thinking of where to start, I have to wonder when that stopped being enough for me. When did I stop being enough? Where did the discontent begin to surface, and why?  I could say that it was the night that Blake called the ambulance for me, and in part I would be right, since I’d heard the guys talking even in my unconscious state. But in reality, I have to admit that the feeling I was letting life pass me by began the night that Brian met Justin.

We were all coming out of Babylon. As usual, Brian had partied hard while the rest of us sat on the sidelines, commenting on Brian partying hard instead of doing the same thing. Of course, Michael was whining, as per usual, but it wasn’t the usual pitying sound it had been to date. As I remember it, it was more like he was complaining just for the sake of having something to say, while anticipating… I don’t know- the possibilities perhaps? 

Yeah, that was the difference. I should have taken notice of it when he was so eager to go get Brian from the backroom, but that always seemed to be his normal response. Like anytime there was a chance to see Brian’s dick was a great night in Michael’s book. And I suppose it was for many of the men of Liberty Avenue, but for Michael it was different… More sinister, is how I think of it now.

“What are you thinking about?” Blake asks me, squeezing my hand.

“I thought that my initial discontent started the night I almost overdosed on the GHB, but I’m just now learning that I was wrong.”

“And what have you discovered?”

Ordinarily, I would call him out on using his counseling voice on me while we’re talking. But I realize now, that like in most things, Blake knows just what I need, when I need it the most. And right at this moment, I need that almost-impersonal tone to get through this retelling of the events and situations I’ve never wanted to examine too closely. Although Barry is present, he’s opting to give Blake his head on how to pull the story out of me during this very difficult conversation. Ironically, I also know that when my husband needs to make an appearance instead of the addiction counselor, he’ll be here to catch me if I begin the falter. 

I feel that deep within my heart and soul, even as Blake continues to ground me to keep me from drowning in my memories.

“It began the night that Brian met Justin.” I tell him.

“And why do you consider that event as the cornerstone of you no longer being okay with who you were before then?”

“Because it’s the night I began to see that I was waiting for Michael to really see ME instead of just Brian.”

“But you had a crush on him for a long time before that night. So what made his lack of regard different that night?”

“It was the beginning of having to accept it,” I tell him quietly, realizing that it was the unvarnished truth. “Up until then, I’d always had some hope that he would finally notice me, but… well, it was seeing the same gluttonous gleam enter Michael’s eyes that others often get at the prospect of seeing Brian with his dick out that put it into perspective right then. Up until that point, Michael would look annoyed, yes, but never hungry to see Brian getting a blowjob. In fact, he reminded me of the way a wolf might look at a piece of raw meat. I honestly think that if Em and I weren’t watching him so closely, he might have licked his lips; he might have still done it while rushing off.”

“And it bothered you.” A statement of fact, not a question.

“Yeah, it did. But at the time, I would have- and did- chalk it up to me wanting to be the one Michael looked at like that.”

“And now?”

“I see it for what it really was. Disgust, but not at Brian. It was at Michael,” I say quietly. Straightening myself up, I push back whatever shame I feel at this moment. “Don’t get me wrong… we’ve all seen guys that we would like nothing better than to fuck for a lifetime of Sundays, but there is still a modicum of- I don’t know- respect about it all. Like we would still maintain some sort of boundary when getting what we wanted, but that was noticeably absent when Michael looked at Brian just then.”

Blake was silent for a moment, obviously mulling over what I’ve disclosed so far. He casts a quick look over to Barry, who gives a brief nod, before turning back to me and saying, “Ted, in keeping with that same train of thought, I’m going to say three things, and I want you to say the first thing that pops into your head without thought.” He stopped, taking a deep breath before allowing the husband tone- the sound I trusted in and which brought me comfort above anything and anyone else- to come through. “And no matter what, Teddy, don’t censor yourself. Can you do that?”

“Yes. I’m scared, but yes, I can,” I tell him, holding onto his hands just that little bit tighter in fear of what he might say next.

“Sap,” Blake says, and my response is immediate.

“Rapist.”

“Michael.”

“Rapist.” That last one, shocked me so badly that tears filled my eyes, realizing that I just grouped Michael with one of the most hated men of my acquaintance. But Blake wasn’t done...

“Darius.”

“RAPIST!” 

My breathing accelerated, and I began to bolt up out of the seat, but Blake wouldn’t let go of me. He just… he just… I tried again, only for Blake to straddle my lap as he had done so many times before. Laying his head on my shoulder, he whispers into my ear, “I’m sorry I had to do that, Teddy; sorry that I couldn’t give you a warning that I was going to mention his name.”

I nod, as I continue to listen to his soothing voice as I try to control my breathing. I finally have enough breath to ask, “Why did you? Why did you?”

He sits up, his strong legs still draping mine to hold me in place. “Because if I didn’t your mind would still continue to separate the characteristics which Michael shares with the other two men. Physical or emotional, they are all rapists, Teddy. It doesn't matter that Michael's weapon of convenience was emotional blackmail; it was still a violator designed to make you feel powerless. The only thing that really separates Michael from Sap and Darius is that he hasn’t gotten physical with any of you that we know of, but he wanted to with Brian, AND Justin although for different reasons. And yes, he would have used any means necessary to do so, as evidenced by the revelations that were exposed yesterday. So now, tell me what happened, Teddy...Please, tell me all of it.”

“I… I…” I brought his body even more flush with mine, holding him tighter than I ever have. “Don’t leave me,” I begged.

“Never,” he promised. “I’m right here, Ted. I’m right here where I want to be.”

Part of me struggled to believe him; call it a remnant of all the things that led to my addiction in the first place. But as Blake moved and shifted against me, settling himself deeper into my lap, I was put a bit more at ease, knowing that he meant what he said. His quiet breath fanned across my Adam’s apple, lulling me further into doing what needed to be done. The pain in my chest was still there, but somehow the hold on my heart wasn’t as tight, and all because of the man nestled in my arms.

“The discontent in my life continued to grow and fester as I watched Brian and Justin. It wasn’t so much jealousy as it was that I couldn’t figure out what was so wrong with me. To my mind, at the time, Brian was mistreating Michael. It never dawned on me that he was trying to break free from him, even though I noticed- hell, everyone noticed- how clingy and territorial Michael was regarding Brian. It wasn’t really until Emmett pulled me aside and advised me to watch.”

“What did he want you to watch?”

“Mainly the difference between how Brian treated Justin, as opposed to Michael, who he tended to handle with kid gloves. Then he told me to watch how Michael treated David, as opposed to Brian, who was really beginning to care for Justin. Then he said that I should watch how Michael treated the two of us, especially since you entered my life. I don’t think I ever realized how ignorant and sanctimonious he was before then. I mean, I cringed every time he would refer to Justin as ‘Adopt-a-Trick’ but I noticed it was never to Justin’s face, just like the things he said about you weren’t to yours. But then, as if overnight, something changed within Michael where he could no longer hide that second ‘Mean Girl’ face he’d kept hidden behind his boy-next-door persona. I realize now that it was because he was losing his supposed influence with Brian, which ironically extended to me and Em, too. It wasn’t that David was turning Michael into a snob, the way we all thought. It was that being around David’s snobby friends gave Michael permission to be as nasty as he wanted, knowing that Deb and David would protect him from the fallout.”

“So knowing all of that now, what led to your addiction?”

“In short, I got tired of always being looked at like the nice guy who finished last. Oh, I know now that it wasn’t rational, but it’s how I felt. After you left the first time, I ended up going out with a man named Roger. He was nice enough, but he was so self-deprecating that it was almost like being with a shorter, balder version of me. My final words to him were that maybe both of us should find a way to see ourselves differently. The funny thing was that where I was still stuck in a rut months later, Roger had finally given a man who had been trying to date him a shot. 

“Turns out that the man, who really loved and admired Roger all that time, was the one man he’d always seen as out of his league. They are married and happy now. Roger gave up his job at CMU to travel the world with Gregory, who is one of the most famous food critics in the world. So what ultimately led to my addiction was wanting that kind of excitement; the thrill of trying something so far out of my comfort zone, and the hope that when I looked in the mirror I wouldn’t just see good, old boring Theodore Schmidt- everyone’s second choice. I wanted a George Clooney on the Golden Girls type of vibe…”

“You wanted to make middle-aged women horny?” Blake asked in mock-surprise.

I couldn’t help but snicker, and lightly tap him on his ass. “No, just hot young thangs like the one in my arms.” I kissed the top of his head, as we fell into a peaceful silence. I know that it can’t last, because we have to talk about Darius and what led there, but for now… I can do this. 

I can just keep breathing…