Coming Out with the Truth Ch. 01

"A quick clean break." She said bracingly. She hadn't seen me after that. When I'd had to go back to our apartment. Pack my things. There were whole days where I didn't remember a thing. The only reason I'd sobered up was because I'd run out of alcohol. And I'd had to finish packing up before the moving company arrived to cart my stuff away. I'd arranged for a moving company when I was still thinking about stealing all our furniture. They'd been a little weird when I'd told them it was just the boxes. One of them had been nice enough to make me rethink. That was how I ended up with my three pieces of furniture. "It'll get better." She told me warmly. "A cutie like you won't stay single for long, I'm sure." I tried to smile at her attempt to make me feel better, but I was not looking for a boyfriend. I didn't want to be single, but I didn't want a new relationship either. I just wanted Graeme.

I wanted Grae to have taken that time off for me, not for some woman he'd cheated on me with and left me for. I wanted him to come home and nag me to stop singing while I cooked since he was trying to work. I wanted him to schedule time in his Blackberry for us to be romantic, and buy me books to read in the vain hope I'd give him some peace. I wanted him to go out and play golf on Sundays while I went and did yoga and for both of us to tease each other because we couldn't stand the other sport.

What I wanted was my old life back. Even if it hadn't been perfect, I'd been happy. I thought we'd been happy.

I put the kettle on and ate another muffin. Now my stomach wasn't about to eat itself or rebel, they tasted really good. Sarah changed the topic.

She wasn't much like John, really. John had that whole strong and quiet thing going on. Sarah was friendlier than anyone I'd ever met, without being superficial. She would have been invasive if she weren't so damn nice.

Before she left she invited me to a barbecue at her house in a few days time. She said they were making the most of the weather while summer lasted, and that I should come and meet some people. I agreed, even though I wasn't entirely convinced it'd be a good idea.

I didn't want her to leave. Once she left I'd be alone again.

After she'd gone I finally got up the courage to go shopping. I think part of it was me needing to get out of the house. It was big, she was right. And I was there on my own.

I did a huge shop, got cleaning supplies and groceries and a couple of big bottles of rum. Just in case, I told myself. I didn't ask in case of what.

Back at the house I couldn't be bothered thinking about buying cooking equipment and making anything, so I ate the old pizza, which was possibly a health hazard by now, and considered the rum.

I pushed it away, despite its potential antibacterial properties, and wondered what Graeme was doing now. I wanted so bad to hear his voice despite everything. I couldn't. I didn't know his number off by heart and at some point in my drunkenness I had smashed my old phone. Probably, I thought, so I couldn't call him. It hadn't been a really smart idea, since the SIM card was still in one piece and I would still have his number- once I got around to buying a new handset.

It was another reminder though that my mum and sister would have no idea where I was. I needed to call them and let them know where I was and that I was ok. And that Graeme and I would not be getting married. I'd been putting it off long enough.

I went into town the next day and did another shop. Appliances and crockery and things this time. An esky and some ice for until I got a full sized fridge. They were just cheapies from the supermarket, but I figured I'd get around to replacing them with something I liked better eventually.

Then I tried to find a pay phone. In the end I found one right outside the cop station and called mum.

"Keith Draper!" she said when she heard my voice. "Where are you? No one's been answering at your place and you're not answering your mobile and we didn't know what to think!"

"Mum," I drew a breath to tell her everything, but the sudden tightness in my throat made it impossible.

"Keith?" she asked again, sounding far less outraged and far more worried. "Keith, what's wrong?"

"Mum. Grae and I broke up."

"Oh, honey." She said heavily. I closed my eyes. "I didn't think - Have you packed? Do you need me to come and pick you up? Where are you going to go?"

"I've already moved out." My voice was shaking. "I- I bought a house, mum."

"You what?" she said. "Where? Keith, what if you want to patch things up again? A house is a big deal. You should think about this some more, honey. You're not in the right state to-"

"We're not going to patch things up." I had to tell her. There was no chance. Even if he left me and then gave it a few months, would I take him back if he wanted me to? I didn't think I could. No matter how much it hurt that he'd left me, and in such a way, I didn't think I could ever forgive this.

"What did he do?" She asked suddenly, voice hard.

"Mum, no." I denied, trying to wipe my tears away. This would have been better if I had a phone at home. Then I could have screamed and cried as much as I liked.

"Where are you? I'll come over. Right now."

I told her the name of the town and there was a long silence.

"You moved out of the city?" she asked finally.

"Yeah."

"So... you quit your job?" Hm. How to tell her I hadn't been working for the last six months? She'd only ask why, and I'd have to tell her Grae suggested I take the time to write my book. And now I felt like the world's biggest idiot.

"Yeah. But I can still do some freelance work."

"Keith. What are you doing?" she asked finally. I knew what she was really asking. She was wondering what I was doing with my life, with myself.

I didn't know, and I was past the point of caring. I just wanted not to hurt anymore. "Mum, I'm fine." I asserted. "I'm going to go and buy some furniture and get settled in. It's fine. I'm ok."

"Do you need me to get anything from Graeme's?" she asked.

"No. No. He, uh.... He's gone away, so I got everything."

"Gone away? Keith, what happened?"

"Mum, I really really don't want to talk about it." I rested my head against the glass of the phone box. Wished I hadn't had to even resort to that line.

I told her about the house and the town, I tried to sound busy but I don't think she was fooled. She wanted to come and visit but I managed to put her off when I said that I didn't have any beds or even mattresses yet, and I promised to come and visit soon.

I hung up after promising to let them know when I had a phone.

I felt drained and exhausted, but I didn't want to go home and sleep. I went shopping again instead.

________

The morning of the barbecue I started cooking. I made a mountain of tiny bite-sized chocolate cupcakes iced with chocolate frosting. It didn't take me too long. The hardest part was finding my recipes in the boxes. I packed the cakes into a couple of my new Tupperware tubs, and then went upstairs to decide what to wear. It was a nice day and Sarah had said we'd be in the backyard, so I put on some shorts and a t shirt. The t shirt was slim cut and forest green. I liked the colour and I thought the cut showed off my shape. The shorts I selected were dark brown, so finely pinstriped you couldn't tell unless you were within a few inches of them, and showed off my butt nicely. I didn't think anyone would be getting close enough to see the stripes, although I did think of John.

I wasn't sure if it was an appropriate choice. I was still more than a little cut up about my partner leaving me, and here I was dressing to show myself off. But I was in a new town and I wanted to look good and I wanted to feel good about myself as well. And in the end I didn't think that was frowned upon.

John answered Sarah's door. He looked me over and I immediately felt a pull to him. He was truly mouth watering. He looked strong, calm. Safe.

I helped Sarah out in the kitchen and it was really comfortable. She was really easy to get along with, and I didn't feel guilty or secretive about anything since she already knew I was gay and recently single. The other women began to arrive, friends and family both. They were all really friendly. I don't know if they wondered why I was in the kitchen with them and not with the men outside, but it wasn't an issue. I didn't really expect John to cart me out there to bond with his buddies over a beer.

It was at dessert when I brought out the cupcakes I'd made that someone said something. I'd forgotten her name. She rolled her eyes when she ate the cupcake, which I felt was a little melodramatic, but then she put her hand on my arm and told me her daughter would snap me up once she found out I could cook as well as being so cute.

I noticed Sarah freeze on the other side of the group. "That's nice of you." I said carefully. "But I'm actually gay." That killed the conversation for a moment. It usually did. Even if people had nothing against gays it was generally a moment where no one knew quite what to say.

"I don't suppose," another older lady said to me with a smile, "you'd give me the recipe for those cupcakes, would you?"

"Oh. I- sure." I said with a shrug.

"Do you cook much?" another asked. I shrugged.

"I guess so." I hadn't been recently, but normally I did. It was something I enjoyed, and Graeme had said I'd been good at.

"I think you should come along to our cooking group. It's a bit CWA," she admitted with a smile, which I took to mean full of older ladies and cakes, "but we don't bite and we're always looking for new members with new recipes and ideas." I wasn't sure I should accept, but it might be nice to have some friends who didn't expect me to go out clubbing, who weren't interested in talking about sex, hooking me up for a night of fun to forget Graeme, and who weren't looking at me as a potential mate for their daughters. Who was I kidding? I wouldn't knock back any chance at making new friends.

"Yeah." I agreed. It might even be fun. "That'd be great. Thanks."

"Good. Well, give me your phone number and I'll let you know when we're meeting next."

It was then that one of the kids kicked a soccer ball off the side of his foot, right at the crowd of people. I stepped forward and headed it back to the kid. I didn't really mean to hit him, but he was perfectly placed to kick it straight out of the air and just didn't move. At least it didn't hit him hard.

Sarah and her husband Greg thought that was funny, but I felt bad when the kids started fighting about it. I took the opportunity of an awkward lull in conversation a bit later to head down and play with them for a bit. I hadn't played soccer for years, but it felt good. And it was just a bit of fun with the kids, so there was no pressure.

It was actually a really good day. I caught John watching me a few times, and while he spoke to me briefly he had a certain knowing look in his eyes. I didn't know quite what to make of it so I didn't mention anything. But I was more and more uncertain about him.

*****

I was singing as I unlocked the door and stepped into the hall with four bags of groceries. ABBA of all things. It had been playing in the supermarket and it was catchy. At least I knew all the words.

I shut the door with my hip and sashayed my way into the kitchen, singing louder as I dumped the bags on the bench top.

It had been a very good day.

"Keith?"

"Grae- you're home!" he appeared in the doorway, neat and immaculate, even dressed casually as he was. I was struck again by the differences between us.

"I've taken leave." He said. He'd been working late a whole lot recently. I'd noticed him becoming quieter and more stressed.

"Good." I said emphatically with a smile. It was. He'd be able to relax, we'd be able to spend some time together. It was still summer- we could go to the beach for a few days. That would be nice. We hadn't been away for months and months now. We could even go and visit our families.

"Keith." He said. "We need to talk." Graeme always liked to talk about everything he did. He liked to explain things, methodically go through the ins and outs of them, justify things. He talked things through. He always had and I imagined he always would.

"Ok." I agreed, followed him into the lounge - dining room. Usually we sat at the table for his discussions. And I say 'his' because often I didn't even have to do much other than listen as he made his points and his counterarguments. I didn't even have to play devil's advocate.

He took the single couch. I took the sofa, pulled my legs up and sat cross legged. He could scorn yoga all he wanted, but I was a whole lot more flexible than he was. And he did secretly appreciate it, I was sure, because I sure liked the difference it made when it came to sex.

There was a bag on the floor beside him. A large overnight bag.

"Is everything ok?" I asked, my stomach suddenly dropping. Was his mum sick again? "Are we going north?" It was as close to asking if she was alright as I could come. He shook his head. He would, of course. He wouldn't want me to worry. Grae was like that. He was very thoughtful. Very considered in all of his actions.

"I've been seeing someone else." I blinked. He'd said- what?

Cold goose bumps broke out over my skin. Odd. The air conditioning wasn't that strong in here was it. And anyway, that couldn't be right. I must've heard that wrong. That was... absurd. Impossible.

I cleared my throat softly and looked at him sitting perfectly still with his hands folded together comfortably. "Sorry. Say that again?" I said blankly.

"I'm seeing someone. I'm in love with someone else." Love. That was the word that did it. My whole world dropped out from underneath my feet even as I wondered at my sudden sense of complete incomprehension. He'd- he'd fallen in love? With someone else? How?

"Grae-" This was not happening. I refused to believe it. A slight ringing in my ears and a sharp pain in my chest told me it was.

"We've been seeing each other for three months." Each word was a destructive force in itself. Combined, they were lethal. Three months? He'd been seeing someone else for three months?

"Stop." I said, shaking my head. I had the most ridiculous urge to put my hands over my ears and sing loudly so I couldn't hear him. As if that would make it untrue. "Don't. Grae, just don't." I didn't quite recognize my voice anymore. I couldn't breathe.

"We're in love. We're going away for the week."

"No. Grae, you can't." The coldness over my skin was seeping into my bones. This was an arrow through the heart. This was a deathblow. "What? I don't ..." the ringing was increasing. My ears hurt. This couldn't be happening.

"I'd like her to move in with me. So if you could move out before we get back, then-"

"Her?" I interrupted, sick at heart. There was the kick in the guts. I couldn't breathe.

"Yes." He looked at me calmly, even with a hint of curiosity in his gaze. He looked sorry for me. But he didn't look like this was even just a little bit difficult for him. Not in the slightest. And my heart felt like it had been torn from my chest, ripped to pieces and shoved back in again.

"Grae. No. You can't mean it. Why? Why would you- we've been together for- for six years. How can you-... you can't leave me." My speech was broken into bite sized pieces by my breathing, harsh gasps for air. I couldn't control it. I was cold all over with pure terror.

"We get back on Sunday. You can mail your key back or leave it in the letterbox."

" Grae. Please." I choked. "Please..."

"I'm sorry." Graeme said quietly. He got up and picked up his bag and looked at his watch. The expensive watch I'd bought him for his birthday. I'd thought it was boring, but he'd so desperately wanted it, and all I'd wanted was to make him happy... "The taxi will be here soon." He said.

"Stop, please." I followed him into the hall. As if not seeing that terrible calm in his eyes freed my voice again. "Why? Why are you leaving me? What did I do? How can you be in love with someone else? Graeme... I..."

"I didn't mean for it to happen." He offered quietly. "But it did."

"So that's it? You're leaving me for someone you've been seeing for three months? When we've been together for six years? Does- does she know?"

"No." He said coolly. "And she won't know."

"Have you fucked her yet?" I demanded. He couldn't do it, could he? He couldn't have. He didn't answer, but colour climbed in his cheeks. "You've fucked her." I gasped. He'd done exactly what my friends had warned me about."You prick. How could you? You waited this long to tell me? You thought that if it didn't work out then you'd just come back here like nothing had ever happened and we'd...?" Grae looked away. All the strength left me. In all likelihood, that was probably exactly what he'd thought. It was so practical, so rational. So very Graeme.

"This is my apartment." He said softly, and he was already so distant, so very unreachable. "Be gone by Sunday."

I stood and stared at him, watched him open the door.

"Graeme." I said on a breath, once more. My voice was thick, choked by tears. He didn't meet my gaze. Didn't look at me. He closed the door behind him.

I wondered vaguely what he'd have done if I hadn't come home yet. If he'd have left without saying a word.

I stared at the closed door, reeling, still gasping for air. This couldn't be happening. I was dreaming this, wasn't I? Except I couldn't have even imagined this to dream it...

I turned and walked slowly back towards the kitchen, distantly aware that I was shaking. I looked at the groceries on the bench. I'd been going to make us dinner. Like I had most nights for the past six years.

Cold sweat broke out across my forehead. I only just made it to the bathroom before my stomach rebelled. I was sick until there was nothing left inside me. I felt hollow, empty.

Graeme was leaving me.

I lowered my clammy face into my hands and finally began to cry.

And I corrected myself.

He'd already gone.