“Better than that, we landed earlier than planned and I’m at the hotel. I’m on my way over to you. I thought I could see where you live before we head out,” he says, excitement clear in his cheery tone.
“That's good for me. Is Noah coming?”
“That would be a no. He’s not social, but he’s fine with me going out because it's you.”
“I give him twenty minutes before he hunts us down,” I say, and I’m not joking. The co-dependency between them is frightening. Chase just laughs, but doesn’t respond and tells me he’ll be with me in the next twenty minutes.
I rush around the kitchen, putting all the empty takeaway packages in the trash, cleaning the counters, and stacking the dishwasher. I don't want Chase to think I have let go of my life completely. I’m glad he’s coming here first, as it will give me the chance to explain about Ivan.
Before I know it there is a buzz at the door, and I rush over to let my brother in and wait at the door in anticipation of seeing him again. Hoping he has all the answers to my life. The elevator dings and out walks Chase. He jogs down the hallway to my apartment and he looks amazing. He’s tanned, dressed in black jeans and a thick black coat with a dark blue scarf. His hair is a little longer and the curls more defined. I’ve never seen him this happy. The miserable Noah has done this, and that's why I tolerate him. Chase, out of anyone I know, deserves the best.
“Ty,” he says before I pull him into a bear hug at my door. Family. Home.
“So happy you’re here,” I say into his hair. He pulls back and pats me on the arm.
“Me too. Come on, I want to see where you live and catch up with what's been going on.” In typical Chase style, he ignores me and barges past me to show himself around, and I await the pity and judgement. I walk in to find him looking around my living room, much like Ivan did. Can I go a second without mentioning Ivan?
“Tyler, why haven't you unpacked yet? You’ve been here for weeks now. Are you moving again?”
“Err no. I just…I’ve been busy with work, and to be honest, I haven’t been feeling like myself. I don't see this as my home.”
“Well yeah, because you have nothing of yours around you. Do you need me to stay and help?”
“No. Thank you. I’ll get around to it, but I’d prefer to talk. I have a few things I need to tell you before we leave.”
“Okay, now I’m worried, are you sick? Has something happened?”
“You know, for a therapist, you’re very bad at this.”
“I’m sorry, I worry about you. It makes me protective.”
“And I love you for it, but can we just sit down?”
We move over to my one sofa and we face each other on each end.
“I’m just gonna say what I need to say, and I don't want you to interrupt or say anything until I’ve finished, otherwise I’ll clam up.”
“Fire away.”
I clear my throat and take a deep breath.
“I’ve started seeing a guy, but it's not what you would call a normal situation. I’ve known I was bisexual since high school, and I did fool around with a couple of guys in college, and I’m sorry for never saying anything. But I never met anyone who made me want to take it further, so I stuck to dating girls, which is why I didn't think it was worthwhile telling you.” It all comes out so rushed, I wonder if I’ve made sense.
I take another breath. Chase is wide eyed but he remains quiet and watches me intently.
“The problem I have is not that I’m dating…if that's the right word as I’m not sure what you'd call it. He’s different. I met him at work, he’s a family member of the client.”
Another breath, you can do this Tyler.
“And that family is the Kozlov family that Noah warned me about when I visited you in France. He’s not a good guy, Chase, and I’m so conflicted. I mean, he's good to me but not in his job. Fuck…I don't know if I’m explaining this right. But, I needed you to know as you're meeting him tonight. At a bar. His family bar. Just outside town. And his family might be there, and a few of them are weird and intense, but so nice. Oh god, I’m fucking this up. You can talk now.”
I avoid looking at Chase as I don’t want to see the shock and disgust on his face.
“Tyler, look at me.”
I look up at my brother, who smiles at me. My kind, understanding brother.
“Thank you for telling me and I’m not angry. It’s your decision when to share something so personal.”