JFT #37/Dream On
JFT #37
Dream On
I had it all worked out. What to say. What to do. Things were going to be
different. Only sorta the same. The same part being me and Jack together
again.
Things have a way of not working out the way I planned.
For one thing, when I was thinking up what I was going to say, Curt Wild
wasn't in my bed. With Jack.
"I was going to use my key to let myself in, but the door was already
open. Guess I should've knocked."
"Arthur!"
"Oh, sorry, Brian, didn't see you hiding in the corner. You got a
threesome going or are you just watching?"
Curt jumped out of bed, and that's when I realized that he was still
completely dressed. "Arthur, you have no idea how wrong you are--"
"My flat, my rules, isn't that what you said, Curt? So shut the fuck up!"
I yelled.
I never yelled. I never raised my voice above a whisper before I met Jack.
Now I had everyone's attention. Including the quivering red-haired man in
the middle of the bed.
"Jack..." I heard my voice break, and I thought, that's not going to cut
it, I've got to be firm.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I whispered.
He moaned and opened his eyes slowly. He was so fucking pale, not a trace
of the familiar color I associated with Jack in his face. Except for his
eyes. Bloodshot, swollen, tear-soaked eyelashes clumped together.
Now that I knew what I was looking for, it was obvious. I couldn't figure
out how I missed it. The preoccupation, the inattention, the fatigue.
"It's not what you think," Brian protested.
"It never is," I said sadly. It wasn't any good trying to harden my heart
against any of them. I loved all of them, in spite of their flaws. But
what really and truly hurt was that all this time, I thought I was one of
them.
And I wasn't.
Otherwise, someone would have told me.
"Your doctor called, Jack. Looking for *Curt*. To tell *Curt* all about
how sick you are. To tell *Curt* that you belong in the fucking hospital."
I saw Curt's eyes widen in surprise. That puzzled me. But only for a
moment. I was too hurt and too angry to worry about the details.
"Why, Jack? Why him and not *me*?"
"I didn't want you to know."
"That you were sick or that you were fucking around?" I snapped.
I saw a blur out of the corner of my eye and whipped my head around. It
was Brian. Trying his damnedest to hold Curt back. That was okay. Curt
could kill me. Right after I got Jack into hospital.
"You don't want to do this, Arthur," Curt growled.
"Don't tell me what to do, Curt. Not anymore," I whispered. Tears burned
my eyes, but I had to finish.
"I thought this meant something to you," I said, touching the wedding band
on my left hand. "I thought *I* meant something. But I guess I was wrong."
I tore the ring off my finger and threw it at Jack. It hit him in the
shoulder, and he crumpled in a heap.
"He's dying, you little fuck," Curt wailed. Brian squeezed his eyes shut
and held onto him, and I could see their pain was real. So. They didn't
know. Any of them.
"You should've stuck around when the doctor asked you to, Jack. You're not
going to *die*. You've got pneumonia. You belong in hospital. They can
treat *that*."
"You're going to live, Jack. But not with *me*." I swiped at my eyes, and
I could feel the absence of the ring that defined my life for over a year.
"I can never trust you again."
*****