Footy

MARK (16)

Mark knew he had to tell Fiona about himself. So far he’d been unable to screw up the courage to do it. Yet he realized that the longer he postponed it, the more likely it was that the situation would blow up in his face. They’d been out four times already, each time over the weekend, and made love afterwards. He’d always stayed the night, and left in the morning, usually after they’d made love again. For the first time with a woman, he felt that the sex wasn’t merely getting his rocks off, but the full expression of a profound connection. He knew that she loved him, that she was happy with him. He was even more certain that he was in love with her.

If only things were that simple.

One evening, after they had been to the ‘Lambs Go Bar’, a pub in Brunswick, with live music and a large counter-cultural gay and bisexual clientele, he knew suddenly that he had to tell her.

“Fee, there’s something I want to tell you.” He sat down next to her on the sofa in her flat, and took both her hands in his.

Her hazel eyes looked into his, and he could see the immediate worry in them. “What is it?”

“Fee... ” He paused, deeply reluctant to continue. “Fee, I need to tell you that... ”

“You said that already.” Fiona was trying not to let the thud of her heart make her sick.

“Fiona, I’m bisexual.”

Fiona felt her skin start to tingle and a flush spread across her face. She could feel the tears pricking her eyelids.

Mark squeezed her hand. “I love you Fee. You make me happy. But I feel if I don’t tell you, it’s like I’m lying to you. And you’re too important to me to do that.”

“Have you, have you got a bloke?” Fiona gulped. Her attempts not to cry were unsuccessful. He put his handkerchief into her hands. She remembered how they’d met, his firm masculine common sense, the feel of his hands on her skin.

“Yes.” He looked away, his face awash with sorrow and guilt.

“Oh.” She was beyond grief now. Everything she’d hoped for was in ruins. She’d thought that she’d found someone to love, a man who’d cherish her always, who’d be by her side as she got old, who’d share the joys and sorrows of life with her. And she hadn’t. For he loved someone else.

Mark was crying too. He loved Fiona. All he could feel now was her pain, her loss, and it was as if it was his pain, his agony. The connection between them didn’t just share the joy and pleasure – it also made him aware of her suffering. “I’m sorry, Fee. I love you. Fee, don’t think I don’t. Oh God, I love you.”

Fiona wiped her eyes with his hanky. He wiped his eyes with his t-shirt.

“What’s his name?” she asked, not because she cared, but because it was something to say.

“Jasper.”

“Jasper Sutton?”

“Yeah.”

“The Jasper Sutton who was best friends with Ads at Montmorency College?”

“I didn’t know he was friends with Ads. He never told me.”

“Jasper Sutton is straight, Mark. He’s also a narrow, up-himself, chauvinist Eastern Suburbs prick.” Her anger had found a lightning rod, and its current flowed down it and burned. “How can you be in love with him? He’s such an arsehole! When Ads was in love with him he tried to ask me out. How could he?” She was no longer crying, her tears burnt off by her rage.

“He’s a lovely bloke when you get to know him. He’s kind and thoughtful and generous. He had a real problem coming to terms with being gay. It made him... hurtful and selfish. He’s through that now.”

“How nice for you both!” Fiona was furious.

“Fee, don’t... ”

“ ...Don’t ‘Fee, don’t’ me! You tell me you’ve got another lover. And I’m supposed to just accept it, and be happy?”

“I can’t help being bi, Fee.” His voice was so humble, so sad, that Fiona almost relented. But the tidal wave of her anger and grief was far from spent.

“You deceived me!”

He hung his head. Almost as if he was ashamed of it, he surreptitiously wiped his eyes with his t-shirt.

“Go! Just go!”

Without a word, he stood up and went to the door. At the door, he turned to look at her, then looked away helplessly. He shut the door quietly, with a finality that broke her heart. She heard his steps get further and further away. Overcome, she flung herself down on the sofa and wept.

At the Volkswagen, Mark leaned his head on the car roof for a long time, with his eyes closed. At last, he opened the door and got into the driver’s seat. For many minutes more, he sat there, staring at the minimal dashboard, as if he had never seen it before. He had thought he had found the right woman. He had wanted to be honest, because that was his nature. He knew he would always be bisexual. It wasn’t something he could choose. And he loved Jasper as much as he loved Fiona. He needed both of them in his life. Others would have advised him to select between them, but he didn’t see why he had to. He didn’t see how he could. He had enough love in him for two. He needed a bloke and he needed a woman. His life was incomplete without both. He felt as if part of his soul had been torn out of him.

He drove very slowly, his whole body hunched over in sorrow. Without realising it, he found that he had driven to Adam’s flat, as he so often used to when they were still lovers, and even after, when the passion had cooled and they’d become good friends.

He climbed the stairs, feeling suddenly old, aware all at once that the unspoken automatic assumption he’d held – that he would be happy, one day – was false.

At Adam’s door, he almost turned away when he heard the voices inside. He was ashamed to spoil their happiness with his own troubles. But he had nowhere to go. He couldn’t go to Jasper. Not about this. Not yet, maybe never. Adam was his friend. Adam was Fiona’s brother. Adam would make it right. Yet, afraid, he knocked so softly and half-heartedly that he almost wasn’t heard. He had started to turn away, his courage failing, when Adam opened the door.

“I thought I heard something.” Then he saw Mark’s face. “What? Mark? Love, what’s wrong? Come in.” And without letting go of Mark’s hand, he drew him into the flat. “Tom, pour Mark some brandy.”

Tom glanced at Mark’s face, and without a word went to the small kitchen. In silence, he opened the cupboard and Mark heard the clink of glasses and the glug of liquor being poured. He came back and put the glass into Mark’s hand.

Adam took Mark over to the sofa, and sat down next to him.

“Tell us.”

The simple command opened the floodgates. Gulping, Mark said, “She threw me out.”

“Who, Markie?”

“Fee.”

Adam looked at Tom. As they lay in bed the night before, sated with love-making, Adam had told Tom what Jasper had said. He’d grieved for Fiona’s pain. Jasper had told him that he was afraid that Mark would tell Fiona. They’d been waiting for the axe to fall. It had happened unexpectedly quickly.

Tom came and sat on the other side of Mark. “Tell us, mate,” he said. He took Mark’s hand in his big hands, his fingers laced through Mark’s. Adam felt a surge of love for and pride in his man, that he could care and not be scared of showing it, that his strength was there for others, to make the world a little happier, a little better.

“I’m, I’m in love with F-F-F-Fee.” Mark was weeping freely now, and it would have been hard to follow his words if they hadn’t already known the gist of the story. “And I-I-I love J-J-Jas too. And I told Fee I was bi-bi-bisexual. Oh G-G-G-God, Ads, I love her so. And I love him too. And she was so up-up-up-upset.”

Adam met Tom’s eyes over Mark’s bowed head. “Shall I talk to her, Markie?”

Mark just nodded, unable to speak.

“Come on then, buddy, we’ll go right now.”

Tom stood up, and gave the keys of the BMW to Adam.

“Aren’t you coming too?”

“It’s a family matter, Ads.”

“You’re family, Tom. We’ll need your common sense. And she’ll be angry with me.”

“Why? Oh, because... ”

Adam nodded.

Tom drove. Mark sat in front, and Adam sat in the back. As they drove, Adam stroked Mark’s hair and neck and shoulders, trying to furnish comfort in the only way he could.

******

Only a few minutes after Mark left, Fiona heard a knock at the door. She expected it to be Mark. It was Jasper. He looked terrible. She felt a pang of pity, then hardened her heart. She was the hurt one here, wasn’t she?

“Why?” she asked, her tone hostile.

He looked at her without hope, his face drawn into lines of sorrow and loss, before staring away from her, unable to meet her eyes. “He’s told you, then.” He sighed. “Can I talk to you?”

She didn’t want to talk to him. She wanted to be alone with her heartache. “All right.”

He came in and sat down without being invited to. She watched him wring his hands. She had never seen anyone doing it before, and it fascinated her. The verb had made no sense to her, but suddenly she understood exactly what it meant. When she lifted her eyes from his hands to look into his face, she saw that he was staring at her, and his own eyes were wild with grief.

“Do you love him?” he asked.

“You’ve got a cheek... ”

“Do you fucking love him? Just answer me.” Jasper was fierce, his face reflecting his determination, his eyes harder than she’d ever seen them. He didn’t look, now, like the spoilt scion of an upper-class family. Her memories of him as a fun-loving playboy didn’t at all match the courage and resolution in his face.

“Yes. I love him.” Fiona spoke softly, suddenly worn thin.

“I know I’m not worth much. With you he will have children, be a good husband, maybe be happy. Tell him... tell him I’ve found someone else.” He stood up and turned towards the door.

It took Fiona a few seconds to understand what Jasper was offering her, and she was horribly tempted to just accept. But a picture came into her head, of Mark’s pain when he found out what Jasper had done. And then she realized that though Mark might perhaps accept it as a fait accompli at first, later on he would certainly resent her for it. And if he was bisexual, maybe he would be drawn to other men. If Jasper walked out of Mark’s life in this way, their own relationship would founder.

Jasper’s hand was already on the doorknob when she cried out, almost choking, her lips dry, “Wait!”

He turned to look at her, his expression impatient. “What? Let’s get this over with!”

“Do you love him?” She knew the answer, of course. But she needed to know just how much.

They stared at each other in silence. Jasper turned round and came back into the room. He fiddled with the pictures on her dresser, went and stood against the window staring out into the darkness, then looked at her for a long time.

“I love him so much I want him to be happy, even if it kills me. He loves you. He needs you.” He stopped, and went to look out of the window again. With his back to her, he said, so softly she almost didn’t hear, “I’ll find someone else.”

Fiona knew that he was in as much pain as she. Her anger at Mark returned. How could he?

Jasper was still looking away from her, staring out of the window at the warm autumn night. Yet, as if he knew what was going through her head, he said, “Don’t be angry with him, Fiona. He can’t help being what he is. You love him – I love him – for what he is, every part of him. The way he combines his masculinity with tenderness and a generous spirit. The way he cares. You can’t just pick and choose what aspects of him you want.”

“Why are you leaving then?” Fiona resented the way her compassion had been engaged. Why wasn’t she like others, who merely grabbed what they wanted, without caring who or how much they hurt in the process? “It won’t help.”

“It’ll help him now. I didn’t know he would tell you tonight. That was unlucky timing. I dunno – I was going to introduce myself as a friend, find out what you felt, then if it was obvious you really loved him, just tell him it was over. And it might help. He’ll get over me.”

“What if he doesn’t?” Fiona knew this was vital. Her anger had gone. And she knew, beyond doubt, that she cared about Mark’s suffering. Damn the man – she cared a bout Jasper too. But what about her pain?

Jasper shrugged, his helplessness obvious. “I don’t know what to do, Fee.”

Fiona noticed the diminutive and felt a jab in her heart. Jasper was also Adam’s friend. And although she didn’t think they were as close as they had once been, Adam had loved Jasper once, very deeply. Jasper had treated Adam abominably – yet, all the same, he’d been very close to him. Thinking back on it, she wondered that she hadn’t noticed the way Jasper had looked at Adam, instead of being misled by his behavior and what he’d said.

“Why did you treat Ads so badly, Jas?” Without conscious thought, she too slipped into the pet names they’d used for each other when they’d hung out together.

“I loved him, Fee. I was half in love with him. I was so dumb. Jeez – he loved me. He cared for me, about me. But because I felt so much for him, I was frightened. I hurt him. I was a stupid, selfish bastard. I don’t deserve to be happy.”

“What has ‘deserve’ got to do with things?” She was angry and bitter – at him, at life, at Mark. She was silent for a while. At last, she asked, “Does he know all this?”

“Yes. I told him yesterday morning. He’s gotten stronger, Fee. And he’s still as kind and generous as he always was. He was mega pissed off at me.” He smiled, wryly. “But he’s forgiven me. He’s happy – really happy, for the first time in years. I’m so glad he met Tom. I wish them... I hope they’re always happy together, that their quarrels are short and their love long.” He sighed. “Ah well, I’d better go.”

“How long have you two been together?” Fiona didn’t want him to leave, not like this.

“A year.”

“So I’m the one who should go, then.” Fiona was trying not to cry.

“He needs you Fee. He loves you.”

“He needs you too. He loves you too.” Fiona struggled to be fair. It seemed important.

They stared at each other in silence, reassessing each other in the light of what they had just shared. Someone knocked at the door. Fiona, unwilling to have anyone here until she’d sorted everything out with Jasper, ignored it. The knock came again, louder.

“I’ll just get rid of whoever it is,” she said, walking over to the door. She opened it.

Mark, Adam and Tom came in.

<<Chapter 15

© 2009 Nigel Puerasch. All rights reserved.
Romantic m2m novels and short stories