Page 35 of Splintered
And one square velvet box.
His hands shook as he reached for the box. His mind was ablaze, igniting in memories and broken dreams. Once, he’d dreamed of seeing a box like this in Evan’s hands. Once, he’d imagined how it would go. A day in San Francisco, walking hand in hand through Golden Gate Park or Baker Beach or after a show, like the first time Evan had saidI love you. A morning at home after making love and eating breakfast in bed, sunshine and messy hair and slow kisses and Evan smiling as he asked this question, the only question Ben wanted to hear. A night around the dining room table, candles lit, dinner set, hands held. Secret smiles and seductive eyes.
New York had banished those fantasies, had sent them scattering, obliterated them to dust as each day passed. He’d convinced himself, in fact, that Evan had never thought the same. That Evan, willing to move to New York, must never have wanted that at all. He couldn’t imagine loving Evan outside of this house, outside of their home. New York had ruined everything. Had taken everything.
But in his hand there was a velvet box.
Maybe it was cufflinks. That’s all it was, surely.
He wouldn’t know unless he opened it.
Ben flipped the lid.
Twin gold rings rested inside, standing in pillows of black velvet.
Every fantasy rushed back, every happy moment, every dream, every desire he’d nurtured in Evan’s arms.Evan wanted it too! Evan wanted that life too!
He drew in ragged breaths that couldn’t fill his seizing lungs. Somewhere there was sound, a wailing, horrible sound, a warble that seemed to come from another time. He couldn’t breathe, fuck, and he tried to scratch at his throat, rip away the pressure that was closing around his neck. It was only when he felt his skin, felt himself, he realized the sound was coming from him. Those were his screams, his sobs. His keening wails.
Evan had bought engagement rings. Had stashed them in his drawer, hiding them from Ben. He’d wanted to make a life with Ben, love him the way Ben loved Evan, forever and for all time. He’d wanted that, at least once.
Ben stumbled back until his knees hit the bed frame and the edge of the bare, bloody mattress. He collapsed, falling to his ass as he covered his mouth with one hand and tried to hold back the screams, stop the flood of tears pouring down his face again.
Through the tears, he couldn’t look away from the two golden rings.
You should have killed him, because he’s going to kill you! You swore you’d always be with him!
Bleach still stung his eyes and his nose, burned under his fingernails from when he’d scrubbed the bathroom. Their bed was stripped bare and a flood of blood stained the mattress inches from where he’d collapsed. The wreckage of them, the last remnants of their love story: terror and two wedding bands hidden in a drawer.
And a thousand questions why.
I’m going to hold you to that fucking promise, until I’m bathing in your blood!
“Evan,” he whispered. “Evan… I loved you so much.”
Every light in the house winked off.
* * *
Chapter Twelve
He openedthe front door at ten thirty-six the next morning. He’d heard the knocks for almost five minutes, but he’d heard knocks all night long, on all the walls, on every door, and he just couldn’t tell whether there was someone at the door or it was just the house making its noise. The wind or the settling. The creaks he’d lived with so long they were part of his life, part of the background noise of Ben’s entire existence. Something that lived inside him now.
Dr. Kao waited on his front porch, her face pinched in a frown as she peered behind Ben. An older man stood beside her, his hair thick and white, his face etched with lines like tree rings, years of life carved into his face. His presence was like an anchor, something grounded, something that had weight. Ben couldn’t look away.
The old man stared back into Ben, deep into his gaze.
“Can I help you?” Ben croaked. His voice was warped and rotten, wrecked from a night of sobs. His gaze bounced from Dr. Kao to the old man.
“Are you all right?” Concern poured from Dr. Kao, a river of it. Her eyes darted behind Ben. She sucked in a quick breath as her eyes widened. “May we come in?”
He stepped back, holding the door open. He wasn’t in any state for visitors, certainly not for the strange man shadowing Dr. Kao. He’d pulled on a pair of boxers and an old hoodie last night, and between the tears and the sweat, he’d morphed into some incarnation of Swamp Thing. His eyes were rubbed raw, each blink like sandpaper, his face puffy and swollen and his lips chewed to rags.
His house wasn’t in any state for visitors, either. Boxes lined the wall next to the stairs, each of them taped shut and labeled:Evan – Bedroom. Evan – Bathroom. Evan – Office. Evan – Gym. Everything of Evan’s that could be packed.
He’d been up all night.
Resting on the box in the very front of the pile was the black velvet box.
