Swift as a Coursing River (LGBT+) | ✓

35. Sedimentation

Despite the overall terrible day, the hour on the phone with the hospital is worth it. His appointment is less than two weeks later, and Vincent offers to go with him. Edwin tamps down his instinctive refusal, the rote arguments that it's not necessary, it's only a consultation, Vincent shouldn't worry. That's how they ended up in this fight, isn't it? Vincent wants to be there, wants Edwin to lean on him, the same way Edwin wants Vincent to lean on him. Besides, it's a closing day for Vincent's store, so even though Edwin has always gone to consultations alone, he says yes. Vincent deserves that much, to be involved in Edwin's health. If Edwin wants a serious relationship as he claims, he should start treating Vincent as someone who will be around long-term. Privately, Edwin suspects this also fills a need in Vincent, when he couldn't care for Kim, even if Kim has already recovered.

Vincent drives with Edwin's car and Edwin admits it's nice to sit back and worry about nothing, even if it's just a consultation and he could have gone on his own. They've talked a lot since their fight, and it's nice to hear Vincent's opinion and support, too. Vincent has made him paper flowers for his wobbly, hand-made pottery bowls, and Vincent has cooked for him. It makes it easy to be optimistic about everything, their relationship, his health.

That sense of calm and optimism vanishes as soon as they enter the hospital. In the privacy of their homes and the anonymity of the streets, it's easier to forget that Vincent stands out, always, and by associating with him, so does Edwin. As they approach the receptionist, a voice rears up in his head what people will think of them. Vincent looks understated for his doing, but nobody would think he was straight.

"Hi, I'm Edwin De Clerck," he states, keeping his voice even. Just acting as he would if he was here with Ellen. "I have an appointment with Dr. Smets?"

The receptionist checks her screen. "Yes, that's right. You can go to waiting room C on the third floor. How can I help you, sir?"

"Uhm." Edwin glances behind him, but there's nobody else waiting in line. She must be talking to Vincent. Don't act as if there's anything to judge. You have no reason to hide. "He's with me. He's my ... partner."

"Alright. The elevators are over there." The casual dismissal is so easy that Edwin can hardly believe he doesn't need to argue. Maybe he really should stop worrying what people think.

While they wait for the elevator, Vincent comments lightly: "Did you not want to say I'm your partner?"

"I'm sorry," Edwin immediately says. He doesn't want to give the impression that he's ashamed of Vincent. He's not. Vincent is just ... like something personal that people get to know about Edwin, that they get to judge him on, in a way that was never the case when he introduced Ellen as his wife. "I didn't mean to be like that. It's just ... I'm not used to it yet. Saying it. To strangers."

"It's a curious thing we need to get used to," Vincent agrees, "constantly making that choice of coming out or not. Is it worth the hassle or not? How will this person react? I get it, darling."

They step into the empty elevator and Edwin looks at Vincent. "I'm trying not to care what they think."

"Which is very noble of you and exactly what I told you to do, but it's a little different when you depend on a service. Some things are so subtle that you know, but you can't report them."

"But you don't really get a choice, whether you come out or not."

"And that is my choice. It's just that the other option is to fit into the wrong mould."

"That's unfair."

"The world's unfair, pumpkin. You don't need to come out in solidarity with me."

"I don't want you to go through all the prejudice alone. Not when I can help." He doesn't want to be accepted because he has a choice, when Vincent does not. He's no better than Vincent, no less gay, and if the condition for acceptance is that Vincent bears the abuse in his stead, he doesn't think he wants it. He doesn't want acceptance that will be turned against him as soon as he, too, stops fitting the mould.