70: Drive

Stephen deftly navigated them out of the downtown core. The streets were quiet, as if all the city’s denizens were hiding from the rain on a cold Monday night.

Inho sat silently and picked at a hangnail. He’d be damned if he was starting the conversation after all that.

Stephen was uncharacteristically fidgety and scraped his teeth against his lower lip, holding in the words he’d fought so hard to share.

Inho’s patience ran out. “Well?” He turned to Stephen, “Are you going to talk, or what?”

“Yes, sorry,” he drummed one hand beatlessly against the steering wheel, “I’m not sure where to start.”

“Nice to see you thought so hard about this.”

Stephen grimaced, “It’s not that, I’m just nervous. Can you cut me some slack here?”

“Why should I?”

Stephen took his eyes off the road and gave Inho a pained look, “Do you not want to fix things?”

Inho clicked his tongue, “It’s not that.”

“I asked Chris and Blaire about what happened.”

Inho stayed quiet, chewing anew at his thumb.

“I’m sorry it went like that... I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you and didn’t stop it.”

Inho glared out the window. Words and emotions bubbled just below the surface of his skin, clamoring to get out all at once. He didn’t know which ones to express, there was an impasse. A hopeless blockade of anger, confusion, and hurt.

“I talked to Connor about it, and he apologized as well. It won’t happen again.”

Inho grunted. Connor was the least of it.

“I won’t let you down like that again,” Stephen’s eyes were prying at him, trying to make Inho turn. Stephen reached out a hand and it hovered a moment before he returned it to the wheel, and cleared his throat. “Can we...be okay?”

The fear in his voice tugged at Inho more than his words. “I don’t know. It doesn’t feel okay. Just ‘cause you apologized – I don’t feel any different.”

Stephen gave a jerky nod, “Alright...I think I know what else is...What you might be thinking of.”

Inho had never seen Stephen so nervous. He shrugged an ambiguous answer.

“Chris told you some things.”

What was the point of talking around it? Would he try to hide it if Inho didn’t already know? No. Stephen wasn’t like that. But still, “He said you’re a cheater. He said you’re cheating on me.”

“What?” Stephen’s voice was deadly calm, and it sent a chill over Inho’s skin, “That motherfucker. I’ll fucking–” He paused and gave himself a little shake, “Inho, please. I’m not, and have never, cheated on you. When would that have even happened? And, why? We’ve only been together a few months...Please I–”

“I didn’t believe him.”

“Oh.”

“Not about me.”

“Alright.” Stephen fell silent, watching the road. They had merged onto the highway, leaving the smearing neon lights and blurring street lines behind, “Well the rest is true. I cheated on Chris.”

At long last, Inho turned to look at him.

“You met him. He sucks, you’d cheat on him too.” Inho’s eyebrows shot up. Incredulous, he examined Stephen’s face. “I’m kidding Inho, oh my god. It was just...a long time ago, and complicated. Do you need to hear it?”

Stephen obviously knew he wanted to hear it, he was framing this so Inho would have to be the one asking. Inho resented the manipulation.

“Tell me,” he said, folding his arms over his chest.

“Well,” more nervous drumming on the wheel, “I was young. Young and stupid. And, Chris was my first boyfriend; we dated for two years. It started right after I got to Vancouver, and ended just after Julian died.”

“Julian was your roommate?” Inho was already invested in the story despite himself.

“Yes. Chris and I, we, I don’t know, the beginning was really good. When you’re 21, away from an oppressive household for the first time, fucking and falling in love, it’s all impossibly intense.” He shrugged slightly, “But, we were drinking a lot when we went out, like I said before. And, Chris didn’t stop drinking at home either. He was really,” Stephen licked his lips, “He was depressed. He had depression and it was really bad.”

“So what, you resented him for it?”

“Stephen grimaced, ”No. It just got really hard. I was all alone except for him, and struggling with my own things. He wouldn’t try, he wouldn’t get help. He lied constantly about things, hiding the drinking, making me think it was in my head, and he just kept sinking deeper. It’s horrible to say it like this, but he was dragging me down with him. I couldn’t take it.”

“Why didn’t you just break up; why did you cheat on him?”

“Because I loved him. I loved him too much to leave, but I wanted to leave. So, I made it so I had to leave.”

“And then it was over?”

Stephen hissed a breath through his teeth, “No, we kept breaking up and getting back together over other things. Neither of us could let go. And I kept doing it. I kept cheating until he caught me. He ended it for good, and I...was relieved.”

A hush fell on them both, dead air filling the car and their lungs until there was nothing left to say.

Inho always thought he wanted to know more about Stephen, but not like this. It all sounded so reasonable when he said it, but surely Chris had a totally different take. Jasmine’s words about cheaters bounced around in his mind, once a cheater always a cheater.

And there was still so much else weighing on him. He needed to be more cautious, he needed to think critically. What about Stephen’s other lovers, his recent hookups? What about the fact that Stephen was completely and utterly out of touch with the world Inho inhabited? The world of money struggles and failure? What about Stephen’s douchebag friends and his aggression towards Nathan? Maybe they were just a bad match. And, what about Jamie?

Inho thought back to Stephen’s statements about Jamie at Chris’ apartment, “Is there anything else you’re hiding from me?”

“No.” Stephen paused, “Inho, I don’t owe you that story. My past is my own, I wasn’t hiding anything.”

Inho frowned, chastised. Stephen pulled the car off the narrow windy road they’d been on, and parked on a sidewalk.

“We’re here.”