Page 4 of A Boy Called Lovesong

I reached for the door handle and pulled open the door.

And as I did, from behind me the entire room shouted, “Surprise!”

But in front of me stood not the man of my dreams… but a man and a woman in police uniform.

“Mr. Van Owen? Noah Van Owen?” the female officer asked me.

I glanced at Margot and saw a look of dread I’ll never forget wash over her face.

“Yes. That’s me.” My voice quivered.

“Do you know a Mr. Joel Matheson?”

“He’s… he’s my boyfriend. Is everything okay? It’s his birthday,” I muttered stupidly.

The female officer looked at her partner then back at me. “Mr. Van Owen, I’m afraid we have some bad news…”

My knees buckled before she could say another word.

Margot tried to catch me but I slipped through her arms and hit the ground hard.

My vision blurred…

The voices I heard all around me faded away…

Leaving nothing but the memory of a single word that would forever echo through the darkness…

“Surprise.”

PART I

DENIAL

CHAPTER 1

“Hey babe,just calling to say I’m gonna be a little late. I’ve got a letter I need to post in the mail, if you can believe that. Probably not. You’re probably laughing and asking yourself, ‘Who the fuck posts letters in the mail anymore?’ Well, apparently it happens. I got one from this applicant in Louisiana and I had to write back because, well, it’s the only contact details he gave me and I know you’re laughing even louder now because it all sounds kinda ridiculous and bizarre like I stepped back in time, but here I am… stepping back in time and looking for a fucking mailbox. Hell, maybe I should film the whole random experience and see if it goes viral, who knows, right? The world will forever know me as the guy who posted a letter. People will see my face and say, ‘Hey, that’s the letter guy.’ Oh yeah, everyone will remember this face. I will endure till the end of time. Until then I should probably stop talking to a phone and go find that mailbox… Oh wait, I see one just up ahead. I’ll be home soon. Love you.”

Joel made a kissing sound into the phone.

Sitting on the rug beside the coffee table, Chet tilted his head to one side, ears pricked as he uttered the tiniest of whimpers, wondering where the kiss went.

I sniffed and wiped my eyes, then pushed aside the tangle of blankets and pillows and patted the spot beside me on the couch. “You wanna come up? Fuck knows I could use a hug. Even one from you.”

Chet gave me a look that said I wasn’t the one he wanted a hug from, then got up and walked away. I heard him plodding up the stairs where he had spent most of his time for the last two days since the party… since the news… since…

I sighed, wondering how long it would be before I returned to the bedroom to sleep. There was absolutely nothing in me that had the strength to get back into that bed. It just wasn’t the same bed without him in it.

Hell, it wasn’t even the same house.

Who knew how long it would take for those feelings to disappear, if they ever disappeared at all.

I sat there on the couch for a while longer.

Not crying.

Not even thinking really.

Just weary.

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