76: Clear Headed

Stephen sagged, sighing and reaching for the chair he’d knocked over, “You’re such an asshole.”

“I know,” Chris chirped, “We made each other this way. But hey, I’ll still cheer for you. Maybe you’ve changed.” When Stephen quirked a skeptical eyebrow, he continued, “Indulge my curiosity though, what it is it about this guy? That’s got you railing at the world, wasted on a work night?”

Stephen pushed a hand through his wet hair, scattering droplets on his shoulders, “I don’t know. Do I need a reason? I’m so crazy about him, I feel like an idiot. When he’s not around I think about him constantly. I worry about him. I think about what he’ll be like in the future. And, he’s so goddamn hot, I just want him all the time.”

Chris took a long slurp before answering, “I don’t think you’re going to be able to fix it – whatever you’re fighting about,” he smiled brightly, “You don’t deserve someone like that.”

Stephen sighed. “I know,” he said and dropped his mug in the sink.

At noon, when he finally escaped a director’s meeting, Stephen chugged pre-workout at his desk. The smell of sticky pastries in the conference room had been turning his stomach. His mind was fruitlessly swirling around Inho, and if he had to try to focus on any more people discussing what should have been summarized in an email he’d burst into flames.

Hungover as hell, and hoping for a clear head, he grabbed his bag and headed up to the building’s gym. He needed to get his shit together and think this through before things got worse. He changed and set up a bar feeling slightly calmer. The compression of his workout gear and the bite of knurled metal against his palms soothed him.

Inho was not good at communicating, he reflected as he did his warm-up sets and loaded the bar for deadlifts. For all that Stephen had made mistakes, Inho hadn’t once opened up about what was bothering him. He set his feet and grip and pulled 315 pounds from the ground once, then twice, then wasn’t it kind of Inho’s fault for not expressing what was wrong? Then, three times, the sound of Inho’s sobs popped into his head, he grunted, four times, then five times, then he remembered the dark prints from his fingers on Inho’s throat and the bar slipped on the way down, landing with a boom. He dodged out of the way and looked sheepishly around the gym. The front desk attendant glared at him.

Last night’s encounter with Inho was literally insane and yet, somehow, here Stephen was, agonizing about it. He was caught between the urge to dodge the red flags of a volatile partner, and the burning need to do anything to make Inho happy again.

He rolled his shoulders and checked his legs, making sure nothing was strained. It was painfully obvious that making Inho happy was going to win. Last night, he’d said it: I love you. The worst possible time to say it of course. Stephen clicked his tongue against his teeth at the memory. How pathetic. What had he really expected to get from that? An “I love you too”? While Inho was crying in his arms?

Fights were to be expected, but not being able to work through them was a fatal flaw in a relationship. Would Inho be open to couple’s counseling? It was incredibly early to ask, but… he was fresh out of other ideas for getting Inho to talk. Pulling out his phone, he texted Alanna asking for a referral to someone. He’d suggest it to Inho when they spoke next.

Relieved to feel like there might be a solution on the horizon, he powered through the rest of his workout and showered before heading back down to the office.

Resettled in his suit, he rolled his shoulders and bounced nervously on the balls of his feet in the elevator. There was one other thing he needed to address. An issue that had been niggling at his conscience since Chris’s apartment party.

Jamie.

The mere thought of how Inho would look at him if he found out Stephen had gotten Jamie fired made his skin crawl. He’d have to interfere in the process before she was terminated.

Stupid Inho, he thought, as he exited the elevator and strode up to the receptionist, making me be a better person… Saving Jamie’s job was going to be difficult at this point, and he’d have to call in a bunch of favors that he liked being owed.

“When Jamie gets back in from lunch, can you send her to my office?” He asked without preamble.

Sarah the receptionist’s eyebrows climbed so high they nearly vacated the premises. “Ah Mr. Wren, that’s not going to be possible.”

“Why, is she not in today?” he asked impatiently, Sarah always acted like a nuisance when she could.

“No sir, Jamie parted ways with the company yesterday,” Sarah said with obvious relish.

Stephen’s stomach dropped, he was too late, “Parted ways?”

“Yes, sir.”

Stephen cursed, and Sarah’s eyebrows vanished into her bangs completely. He thought that wasn’t happening till next week. Why wasn’t he told? He was Jamie’s direct manager! He stared at Sarah as if she might be hiding Jamie in her desk.

For fucks sake. This wasn’t going to end well. He stormed back to his own office, all the catharsis of his workout evaporating in a moment.