Page 97 of The Leaving Kind
“I’m still here.”
Was he imagining her grudging tone? “But we’re not in love.” As soon as the words left his lips, he regretted them because of course they were in love. Weren’t they? He adored his best friend and would be beyond devastated if he never saw her again. His world would end. “Oh, dear god. You’re not allowed to depart this earth. Ever. You hear me?”
“And we’re on schedule for your five-year freak out where you assume everyone you love will die and leave you alone and in pain for the rest of your life.” A definite note of weariness had crept into Tez’s voice.
Victor slumped onto the stool in front of the table. “You make it all sound so dramatic.”
“It is.”
“I’m not ...” A different hurt circled his heart. “I’m an emotional being. I always have been. You know this about me.”
“And I love this about you. I do. You are and always will be my best friend. My soulmate.” They’d long ago agreed that the concept of matched souls was always meant to uphold a platonic ideal because while each of them hoped one day to meet the person they were destined to have sex with until they grew old and, well, dry, they would always have each other.
Over the years, they’d adjusted their beliefs to accommodate various lovers who might have been The One. And still, they’d always had each other.
Tears beaded Victor’s lashes. “I don’t want to be in love with him, Tez. Not only because he’ll hurt me, but because it’s too much emotional investment. For both of us. I’m not ... I’ve had a difficult year. You saw how I moped after Tholo left, and I didn’t love him half as much as I do my cats. And the whole time I’ve been falling for Cam, warning klaxons have been sounding off in my head, all the way down a long tunnel. I can feel the end coming. I can feel a pit of despair opening up ahead and the ground sloping toward it. Sometimes I think I’m already sliding, and I’m not sure how long I can hang on.”
“Oh, Victor. Why didn’t you say something?”
“I’m saying it now.”
Tez was well acquainted with the currents of his moods. The highs and the lows, and the fact that every so often, to a timetable that could not be predicted—her quip about his five-year freak-out cycle not withstanding—a deeper swell would sweep through, bobbing him a little higher but with an awful consequence. Once the wave withdrew, he’d touch bottom. He’d be down there with all the grit and detritus of life, and so damn heavy, he’d lack the buoyancy to bob to the surface again.
A beat of quiet passed between them. Dexter had finally moved from his ass to his legs and was currently chewing one of the toes on a back paw. Tez breathed quietly into the phone.
When she finally spoke, her tone held caution. “Do you think you should call Sahar?”
Victor chewed on his lips. Thought about how Sahar might react when he told her he’d fallen in love and how terrible it was. About what she’d recommend. He’d made it this far without medication—well, not really, if one counted wine and weed as medication, but they only dulled his sense for a short amount of time, for when he needed to feel dull.
Oh, but he was tired of battling the pendulum. So very tired.
A shadow appeared in the open doorway, Sinister slinking in from the family room. He rounded the corner of the table and dumped a small, gray mouse at Victor’s feet. The poor critter had probably died of heart failure because there wasn’t a mark on it.
“Sinister brought me a gift.”
“Oh, dear.”
“I’m trying very hard not to take it as an omen.”
“Vic.”
He straightened the curve of his spine. “You know what? I’m actually feeling a bit better.” Not so much a lie as a false representation of the truth. He no longer felt as though he might fall off the top of a roller coaster and crash toward the ground, breaking every limb along the way. Instead, a numbness had started to spread through him. A sense of disconnection. Not exactly a good sign as Victor recognized it as his body and mind retreating from a decision. But he could operate like this. He could rest here for a while.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m going to pull out some of my old journals. Read over Sahar’s previous pearls of wisdom and see if that helps. If not, I’ll call her.”
“You promise?”
“Don’t make me promise. I’ll call her if I think I need her.”
“Call me too. If you need me. I’m always here.”
Victor exhaled sharply and felt the breath leave his chest. “I’m here too. If you ever need me. I know I’m the more dramatic member of this duo, but I’d crawl up from the center of the Earth to be there for you.”
“I know.” He could hear her smiling now and could picture her face. The softness middle age had brought to her cheeks and the always warm and comforting brown of her eyes.
It was little wonder he’d fallen for a man with similar coloring.