Utterly Forgettable | MM Romance | Complete

Forty-Four: This Is A Surprise

Josh's life seemed controlled by someone else these days. He felt powerless, unable to even think clearly, except when he was jogging. That was why he'd had such a hard time explaining, both to Mark and to himself, why he didn't want to take on any client until further notice.

He found it easier to come up with an answer when he remembered to remove the mental blinders he hid behind. Emery was a hairsbreadth away from finding somewhere else to live. When that happened, the actual moving would be very quick. A couple of weeks to a month, if Josh's own experience moving was anything to go by.

The thought of leaving Emery sitting on his perch at the counter only to come back a few months later to a cold, empty house, was all but nauseating. Josh needed time, both to enjoy this last slice of whatever it was they had and to get used to being by himself again.

Finding a new place to live himself wasn't out of the question, if it turned out his apartment held too many echoes of this past year.

Opening the door to a silent house after his jog was disturbing foreshadowing, but he hadn't expected Emery to still be awake, given the lateness of the hour. Had chosen to run even later than usual for the last couple of weeks, so he could spend more time after dinner just hanging out with Emery.

A shower would clear his head. Josh set the water close to scalding, hoping it would leave his body relaxed enough for sleep. Perhaps he'd be lucky. Perhaps it'd be a few months before they found something that wasn't either decaying or obscenely overpriced. Perhaps Emery would even realize it made more sense for them to continue sharing Josh's place.

Perhaps the sun would decide to start orbiting the earth, he thought bitterly as he walked out of the shower, water dripping off him, and threw his shirt in the laundry hamper with a level of resentment the shirt might not have earned. He rubbed his hair with the towel; there was no sense in blow drying it only to ruin it the next minute by lying down, after all.

At this rate, he wasn't going to get a decent night's sleep. Might as well make himself useful and browse Craigslist for the umpteenth time.

As soon as he saw the ad, Josh had the feeling that was the one. A small studio for rent in Inwood. Furnished, affordable, and looking real in the photos. His fingers shook as he fired off a message to the owner, inquiring about a possible visit. The ad had been posted minutes before, as if it'd waited for Josh. Despite how late it was, he received a near instant reply, scheduling the visit for the following day.

He wouldn't take Emery this first time — no sense in getting his hopes up — but he knew in his gut they'd both be back here soon to finalize the deal.

Needless to say, he couldn't sleep, his stomach an unholy combination of dread and anticipation. Emery would be beyond thrilled, to finally have his own space; Josh might hate it, but a dissonant part of him was glad for the chance to make it happen for Emery.

Tomorrow. He'd know tomorrow.

#

Josh wanted to hate the small studio and its tiny kitchen. Wanted to find flaws in it, reasons why Emery would be better off not renting it, waiting for something else instead.

There were none.

The studio would be absolutely perfect as a first step, and the owner was interested in renting for an initial period of a year — exactly what Emery was after. Josh asked if the man would be available for him to return later that day with Emery, hoping against hope he'd say no; he had no such luck.

His heart was heavy as he made his way to the car. He ought to call Emery, tell him the good news, set up a time. All of that would be hard to achieve unless his voice cooperated, he was sure. Trying to calm what was left of his shattered nerves, he set a course for the Village instead. Emery would be volunteering today, leaving the shelter in less than an hour; there was no reason why Josh couldn't pick him up and show him the studio in one fell swoop.

Traffic was beyond any human's ability to grasp, but Josh reached the shelter in the nick of time. There was a chance Emery wasn't even there anymore, though — Josh needed to find somewhere to park for long enough to send him a text.

And then he saw him.

Standing outside the shelter, on his way out, talking with Tony. It wasn't anything specific — they weren't standing all that close together, or on the verge of taking their chat to the next level. Rather, it was Emery's entire posture: open, relaxed, comfortable. Josh didn't know whether this Tony would end up becoming something more in Emery's life, but it was clear he was at the very least a friend.

Was he such a small, petty man that he'd now resent Emery for having friends?

Tony said something that caused Emery to throw his head back and laugh. Josh couldn't see any details, but he could imagine the little creases around his expressive brown eyes, the warmth therein. It occurred to him, for the very first time, that he might have been looking at Emery's behavior with himself in entirely the wrong light: Emery wasn't making steps towards moving on — he'd moved on already.

The laughter Josh had imagined only he could elicit was present, with or without Josh in the picture. The ease, the lightness, all there. Bile rose in the back of his throat, fingers tightening around the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. Josh had no doubt he was important in Emery's life —better than any other living person, for however long that lasted — but any illusions Emery saw him as more than a friend shattered into fine dust at his feet. Josh was one of his friends, just as Tony. No more, no less. Did that make Emery's impending departure harder or easier to bear? Josh didn't know.

His mind skipped backwards, over the last sixteen months, and the eight months he'd spent working with Emma. He'd likely misinterpreted everything. That night in Emery's office, when he'd thought they were on the verge of a deeper connection... He'd known since then Emery hadn't shared his feelings, but... Had offering to pay been something different than what Josh had seen it as, as well?

Had Emery realized how far Josh's feelings went, and used his wealth not to humiliate, but to establish a boundary in a way that was clearer than any "let's have some meaningless fun" ever had been, in the history of relationships?

Josh had been so hurt at being played for a fool he'd never considered he might actually be a fool.

Emma had been wrong. Mark was still wrong. The way Emery looked at Josh was a combination of friendship, desire, gratitude and regret at the pain he'd caused. It had never had anything to do with love. Mark had thought he was saving Josh from becoming the bad guy but, really, he'd only saved him from continuing to make a fool out of himself.

And why should Josh feel this devastated when he'd never been prepared to —

The loud sound of a horn shook him from his reverie — he'd stopped the car without realizing it, right in the middle of the lane — and made Emery look in his direction. Josh pulled over so traffic could carry on without him. He was proud his voice didn't shake when he opened the window and yelled, "Want a ride?"

The palpable relief he felt when Emery cut his conversation short and jumped in the car was ridiculous, especially in light of the revelation he'd just had.

"Josh," Emery greeted with a smile, buckling his seatbelt. "This is a surprise."

Josh couldn't summon the energy for an answering smile, not with the heaviness in his heart. "I do have a surprise for you," he said with forced lightness, as if he'd bought Emery a lollipop. "I think I found your apartment."

And, just like that, it was done. The contract was signed. In two weeks Emery would be moving out, and Josh would try his best to wake up from the foggy not-quite-dream he'd been living in for well over a year. They'd decided, during their countless visits to unsuitable apartments, that they'd have a celebratory dinner once the right fit had been found, but Josh was in no mood to go out celebrating after the epiphany he'd had. He suggested they get started on packing instead, and leave the celebration for later in the week, or even the week after that.

If Emery found it strange, he was too polite to mention it.