Page 17 of Splintered
Evan pulled out his earbuds from his pocket. Ben shivered, recoiling as if the earbuds were the source of everything that was wrong.
“Ben?” Dr. Kao’s attention shifted to him. “Are you all right?”
How the hell did he answer that? He tried to breathe, tried to inhale. The simmering inside of him bubbled over, boiled, turned to a volcanic eruption faster than he could prepare. He gasped, choked. Pitched forward.
“No!” he shouted, one hand over his mouth. “No, I’m not! I didn’t knowanyof this! He didn’t tell me anything! Why didn’t you tell me this?” He glared at Evan, Evan’s distraught expression warped by the tears welling in his own eyes. His vision fractured. “I don’t know what’s happening to him! I don’t know what’s happening to us! What is this? Whathappenedlast night?”
Dr. Kao passed him a tissue box and waited as he wiped his eyes, his nose, as his sniffles and sobs eventually calmed. “I’m sorry, Ben,” she said softly. “I’m sorry you’re hurting. Let’s talk about last night. In detail.”
They each went through their version of events in excruciating, agonizing detail. The sights, the sounds. The scream that turned Ben inside out. The slick feeling of fear that spread inside of him, that had filled every corner of the house like black tar. The arch of Evan’s back, the curve that seemed to defy science, the way he kept seeing Evan stuck like that every time he closed his eyes. How Evan had looked at him, his hazel eyes gone ink black, and how Ben had thought he was about to fall into an abyss of terror.
How he believed Evan had died, that he was lying dead on the couch. That he’d died in front of Ben.
When Ben finished speaking, silent tears poured down Evan’s cheeks, mostly hidden behind the hands he cupped over his mouth. His shoulders shook.
Ben wanted to run to him and to flee from him, storm around the room, pace from one end of the mahogany walls to the other. He wanted to cling to Evan and kiss every inch of his face, swear to him that everything would be all right, that they would get through this together. He wanted to shake him, scream, askwhy why whyuntil his vocal cords cracked and split in two.
Dr. Kao took her time, waiting out the currents in the room, the eddies and whirlpools of thrashing anger and anguish. “It seems like there are some deeper issues between you as well. Relationship struggles. I’m hearing pain from both of you when you describe your relationship.”
Something dark slipped into the room, like mist seeping under a doorframe, or a shadow walking past a window. Something invisible and heavy, cloying, sliding down Ben’s throat. For a moment, he was back in the night before, reliving the sickness, the panic. His lips pressed together.
He wasn’t going to say it. He wasn’t going to be the one.We’re breaking up. We’re falling apart.He’s leaving. He’s leavingme.
Evan wiped his eyes, his nose. “I just didn’t want him to worry,” his said softly. His voice was like sandpaper running over broken glass.
“That didn’t work out well, did it?” Ben snapped. His nerves danced on bitter ends.
“All right,” Dr. Kao said patiently, holding up a hand. “Let’s keep everything constructive. Anger often leads to a desire to lash out, but giving into that anger is the fastest way to destroy relationships built on love.” Her warm eyes flicked between them. “Can you tell me how you both met?”
Evan smiled as he looked down, a flush rising on his cheeks. For the first time in months, Ben heard happiness in Evan’s voice, a tendril of it, wistful and yearning and so different from the one-word answers or the sharp tones he’d lived with for days and nights since they’d first heard of New York.
Evan told the story as Ben’s eyes slipped closed and as the tears built behind his eyelids. They overflowed and burned trails down his face.
They’d both been vacationing in Cancun, in Mexico, and had met poolside at their resort by chance. Lingering looks turned into drinks, and then kisses, and then invites back to each other’s rooms. Ben had thought he’d won the lottery, someone as rugged and handsome and vivacious as Evan lasering in on him at the pool. Hours later, when they came up for air, Evan had kissed his collarbone and said, “If I could snap my fingers and the embodiment of my exact dream type of guy appeared, he’d be you.”
Ben hadn’t expected much, not even after that, not daring to hope. Evan’s invite to meet for dinner that night turned into drinks at the beach bar and then back to Evan’s room, and then brunch in bed. A day at the beach together.
He’d held his breath, wondering when Evan would cut him loose and decide to play the field again, enjoy his vacation and search for willing men to enjoy the days and nights with. That had been Ben’s plan for his ten days of hedonism.
Day after night after day, they grew more inseparable. Learned they both lived in the San Francisco Bay Area on opposite sides of the Bay. Learned about careers and families and pastimes, dreams and hopes and desires. Ben’s suitcase ended up in Evan’s room and stayed there. Eventually, they learned they were checking out the same day. At the airport, they were on the same flight. Evan switched seats with the guy sitting next to Ben, giving up his first-class ticket to spend another four hours side by side. And then they landed in San Francisco.
Evan’s city apartment was closest. They spent the next two days there until Ben finally had to return to his real life.
“Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow?” Evan had asked. “I’ll come pick you up. What time?”
Ben had never looked back.
“I moved in with Ben three years ago,” Evan said to Dr. Kao. “It’s his family house where he grew up. We’ve been redoing it together. Making it our home.”
“Sounds wonderful. Is that something you both enjoy doing?”
Muted nods. “It’s been hard sometimes,” Evan added softly.
Ben’s lips seemed fused together. Evan’s happy recollections had run dry. Silence stole the oxygen from the room again. They’d run right up against the crater that had landed in their lives, the impact that had launched them to opposite sides of the divide.
A gentle alarm on Dr. Kao’s wall chimed, a single deep bell. “We’re coming to the end of our time together today. I’d like to take the next few minutes to wrap up and plan next steps. Evan, we need to explore what you’re experiencing, try to find answers so that you—and you, Ben—can have some peace. Our first steps are to look for physiological explanations. We want to make sure you’re healthy. The symptoms you’ve described, the headaches, the nightmares, the nausea, insomnia, blurred vision, missing time, anxiety, and auditory hallucinations can show up in multiple pathologies. I’m going to refer you to St. Ignatius hospital for some evaluations.”
“What kind?” Ben asked.
