Page 2 of Back to You

Kelly Cluckson seemed to regard him curiously for a moment, then rubbed her head against his hand. Brandon once again wondered at his choices in life that had brought him here, in a coffee shop, petting a chicken.

***

Brandon closed and locked the door of Bean Bistro, pretty much done with everything. He’d been in a foul mood all day, even more so than normal. And that was saying something considering his general air of “fuck this.”

Why he’d ever thought opening a customer-based business was a good idea …

He trudged over to his car and got in, sitting quietly for several minutes before starting it up and heading towards home.

Really though, was there any point in going home at all?

Brandon shoved those thoughts away, knowing it did no good.

Pulling into the condo parking lot, Brandon felt his cell phone buzz in his pocket and the overwhelming sense of dread swamped him. Every time, he thought. Why do I bother?

He was afraid of the answer to that question, which plagued him more and more these days.

After parking the car, Brandon pulled out his phone and read the text.

Ethan: Sorry, I’m stuck at work a little longer. I’ll see you later!

Brandon stared at his phone screen, then started scrolling up through the message history.

[Yesterday] Ethan: I’m so sorry, I know we have plans, but there’s an all-hands meeting at 7 that I really should be here for.

[3 days ago] Ethan: Hey baby, I’ll be home around 9 or 10 tonight! Love you.

[5 days ago] Ethan: Tell Michelle I’m sorry I missed her and the kids, I’m stuck at work for another little bit. Just go on without me.

Scroll, scroll, scroll. Message after message reminding him how much more Ethan’s job meant than everything else in his life.

More than Brandon.

Three years together, and he was in second place to a law firm that never seemed to take time off.

Brandon heaved a sigh and hopped out of the car, heading for the condo he co-owned with the elusive Ethan. He paused a moment to change Ethan’s contact in his phone to Elusive Ethan, then headed inside where he was immediately set upon by a starving beast.

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Brandon muttered, scooping up the tiny black cat. “Stop yelling.”

Barnabus continued to yell. Brandon knew from experience that the yelling would only stop once food hit the bowl. Clearly the cat thought he was too stupid to remember on his own to feed him even though he’d done it every night for years.

“You act like we never feed you,” Brandon said as he carried the offended cat to the kitchen. “I know for sure Ethan fed you before he left.”

That was one thing you could say for Ethan — he was reliable for things like feeding the cat in the morning. Not so much for spending time with his boyfriend, but at least the cat got fed.

Not that Brandon was bitter or anything.

He fed Barnabus, then decided he couldn’t be bothered with food for himself. He went into their bedroom and changed his coffee-scented work clothes for pajamas, ready for another night of loafing on the couch in front of a TV he was barely watching.

Halfway through his umpteenth rewatch of a teen romance TV show — he liked sweet and sappy shows, sue him — Brandon had the thought that this wasn’t working. This life wasn’t working.

But what the hell was he supposed to do about it?

***

The next day, he was up at his usual godforsaken hour of 4 a.m. He glanced over to see Ethan sprawled out on his side of the bed. Lord knows when he’d come in — Brandon went to bed at 10 and Ethan still hadn’t been home. That was the case many nights these days, only seeing each other when one of them was asleep.

Hopping out of bed, he made quick work of his morning shower and dressing, all without waking Ethan. Both of them had grown accustomed to tuning out the other while they were asleep. He paused a moment and stared down at his boyfriend.

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