Trouble in Paradise

Chapter XIII - Luke

"You don't have to leave. You know my casa is su casa, my friend."

"Aww, are you going to miss me, Wells?"

"Pff! Me? Never? Who did you say you were?"

I laugh at Wells. It's something I've been doing more and more lately.

I've been at Wells' place for almost two months but it's time to go back home and face reality. Now that I feel better —that I think less of why Peter wanted to leave me when I gave him my all and more— I can go back and start a life without the person that said 'till death do us part'.

That reminds me...

"I haven't heard from any of the places I applied to." I take a break from packing to sit on the bed and ponder. "Ugh! I should've known. Who will hire someone with zero experience in anything but taking dick?"

The water Wells was drinking comes out of his nose when he snorts. "I'm sorry, taking dick?! Who are you? What did you do to my best friend?"

"Shut up!" I blush, "You know what I mean."

"Oh, I know what you mean alright." Wells jumps off his seat and runs out of the room I've been staying in, coming back minutes later with a piece of paper in his hand. "Here," he says. "It's time."

Time? Time for what?

I don't have to wonder for long before he hands me the paper. "Remember Noah? The guy from the club?"

Noah, Noah, No—I gasp. "Tarzan? You asshole, you told me you lost the number?" He looks at me sideways and I get what he's about to say.

After that crazy night when Peter showed up at the club when I was drunk, I spent about three days in the dumps. I argued with Wells that maybe it meant Peter wanted me back and I cried when I realized it wasn't happening.

"I've been holding on to his number hoping you would forget about Robocop."

"Robocop?" I ask.

"Yeah, the cyborg that you're still married to. And speaking of, how's that going? For someone who wanted to divorce you so bad he hasn't served you any paper."

"Shut up and give me the number Wells."

Once again we laugh together and I pocket the phone number for later. Maybe I'll call him, maybe I won't. It doesn't hurt to keep the number just in case, especially now that I'll be seeing Peter on the regular once I get back to the house we both own.

Wells had asked me to move in with him and sell my half of the house to Peter. But he also suggested I don't make it so easy through the divorce on Peter, and since I'm in the 'revenge' step of depression —that's one of the steps, right?— then Peter will have to live through the repercussions of his decisions.

That thought settles it. I'm texting Noah the second I get home.

I'm well packed and on my way back home even after Wells tried to guilt me into staying one more month. I don't think I've ever met someone more clingy than my best friend. If it was up to him, we would die together as roommates, and hoeing ourselves around until we couldn't get it up anymore... or caught herpes. Whichever came first.

I drive home listening to joyful songs. I don't know why but something within me has awakened. I feel lighter than I've ever felt. I finally feel like a singular person, after being part of a duo for so long. It's always been Peter and Luke. Now I have my own personality, the one I'm creating.

I've never felt unseen so that's not a problem, but since I have a memory I've depended and leaned on Peter for everything. He's taken every decision in our lives and I was always happy to comply. Our needs have always complimented each other. But now that I have a voice and have been spending so much time with my best friend, I find myself joking, making inappropriate comments, and all together transforming myself into a mini Wells.

Knowing my friend like I know him, that spells danger in every language.

The house is dark when I arrive at around seven o'clock in the evening. Peter is most likely home already and I wonder if I should be feeling as at ease as I do.

Bags in hand I leave my car in the driveway and walk toward the door I've opened so many times, but I still feel more like a visitor than the rightful owner. I open the door and my reflexes take over making me shout, "Honey, I'm—" I stop myself midway through, but it's too late if I judge by the tap of shoes that sounds closer and closer.

"Luke?" Peter asks as if he doesn't see that it is indeed me. "Luke!" he says almost with excitement and this is proven when he runs my way and hugs me—his body hitting hard against mine. So hard I close my eyes... and my fists so I can fight the want to hug him back just as hard.

"Jesus, Luke, it's so good to see you. You—look at you, you look so good. This house doesn't feel the same without you."

Those are the words that make me take a step back.

"Peter," I say calmly. "Please. Let go."

Peter moves back resting his palm against the back of his neck leaving his elbow at eye level. He looks different. Skinnier and less put together.

"Listen, Peter, I'm back home and I'll be staying here until we sell the house. I'll continue my studies with you paying for them, but I've been looking for a job—"

"Luke, Jesus," he interrupts me, "you don't need a job."

"Eh, eh, eh! Hold on, I'm getting a job. I'm not your husband anymore and I make my own decisions now. One of those decisions is telling you to not bring Gabe to this house for as long as I live in it. You can bring anyone else, but the man that caused all this isn't welcome in the space I own."

Peter just nods and murmurs, "You are my husband, though," like a petulant child.

"I'm tired, I'm going to my bedroom. Stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours."

Peter protests behind me as I walk away but I ignore him, though ignoring him is one of the hardest things I've ever done. I can't let him see that I still feel and that I haven't stopped loving him. But I have to, and because of that, I need to start moving on.

I open the door to what was once my guest bedroom and put my bags by the bed to do the first thing I need to do. Start my new life.

LUKE: "Tarzan?"

I text Noah and expect him to ask who this is but instead, he replies seeming pleased that I'm reaching out.

TARZAN: "Luke? I thought you didn't want to climb me anymore."

My cheeks heat up with embarrassment. I didn't believe Wells when he told me I said that but I guess I did. That's why I can't drink.

With a brand new confidence that I will fake until I make it, I decided to go for it.

LUKE: "Fancy going on a date with me?"

And I wait anxiously for him to say yes.