Rules to Live By Page 7

  “Too late to help me out,” Marquis said mournfully. “You’ve been replaced. Tequila is my best friend now.”

  “You are drunk.” Amrit sounded more impressed than judgmental. “So, Navin finally grew a spine and got tired of you never showing up on time—or at all?”

  “But it wasn’t just that I was late. I was . . . We were . . . I thought I found a way for me to remember, and it didn’t work and then the thing with the porn . . .” Marquis cut himself off before that went any further. He was too drunk and not drunk enough at once.

  “Already sorry I asked.” Amrit drained half his beer, then waggled the bottle at the bartender. “Keep it all coming, please. You’re always late, Marq. You were born late and you’ll be late to your own funeral. It’s one of the reasons I almost didn’t introduce you to Navin. And if I’d known about the porn . . . I pretend that Navin is as pure as the driven snow. It helps me sleep.”

  The beer went down smoothly. “He hates it when I’m late. Hated it. I tried to be on time. It’s not like I was trying to be a dick, man. I just . . .”

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind, but Navin? Mummy used to forget him all the time when we went places. She already had her hands full with me and Dev. He’s just sensitive about that kind of thing.” Amrit shook his head in a slow dance that implied the tequila had kicked in. “He really, really likes you, though. Navin takes everything seriously, especially you. He wouldn’t have broken up with you unless it was something he really couldn’t deal with.”

  “No shit.” Marquis thunked his head onto the bar and sighed until the sound of glass hitting wood roused him. More drinks. Exactly what he needed. “Not like I can fix it now, anyway,” he said, reaching for a glass.

  “Why not?” Amrit took a drink of beer, then shrugged. “It’s not like you took Navin telling you he couldn’t deal with you being late half as seriously as you’re taking this, man. You’re walking away awfully easily for a guy who seemed not to be able to take a hint like ‘get here on time or we’re through.’ I thought obliviousness was your style. Is it just easier like this—you don’t have to keep trying and failing?”

  That burned. But Amrit had a point. Marquis never would’ve just let it go if it’d only been about him being late. Except . . . in the end, maybe it was all about him being late. About him not being brave enough to give himself to Navin for real. Maybe it was about failing. Maybe work was easier to get lost in because he always knew he could think his way out of a problem. He couldn’t do that with Navin.

  Amrit drained his beer, then belched shamelessly. “I know I am a huge hypocrite here, but have you two considered, you know, actually doing something different? Changing?”

  But I did, Marquis wanted to say. And yet . . . no.

  The cage was supposed to have magically fixed something broken, but neither of them had changed a damn thing about what was really wrong. They’d been stupid. It had just felt so right, so good, to be Navin’s that way. Marquis had let himself believe that change would come without effort. But without actual work from both of them, nothing was going to turn this around. Marquis just didn’t know what that work was supposed to look like.

  “We tried. I mean, we did. I set reminders, and I fucked that up, even.” It seemed hopeless. “I just get busy at work, it’s not like I don’t want—”

  “I call bullshit.” Amrit brought his hand down on the bar with a thump, making the empty shot glasses rattle.

  “What?” Marquis tried to put his thoughts in order. This was why he didn’t get drunk: he couldn’t stay organized, couldn’t keep things straight . . . No, wait, that was why he’d gotten drunk in the first place. That was the point.

  Amrit pointed accusatorially. “You’re doing the thing.”

  “The thing?” Marquis couldn’t remember what thing that was. He needed more tequila if he was going to deal with Amrit. There probably wasn’t enough tequila in here for anyone dealing with Amrit, but Marquis could try.

  “The thing.” Amrit leaned in and dropped his voice. “The thing where you do everyone’s work for them so they don’t get it wrong.”

  “I do not.” Marquis was so offended he nearly fell off his barstool. “There is no thing.”

  “Dude.” Amrit finished his beer, then picked up the next one without hesitation. “Dude. You offered to take a piss test for me once. Because you were worried I was going to fail it. And that’s just the start.”

  “Once,” Marquis said defensively. The bartender side-eyed him, but slid two more shots across the bar. “That was one time.”

  “Marquis.” Amrit smacked him on the shoulder, nearly knocking him face-first into the bar. “There were a lot of times. And that’s just me. You do it to everyone. You like it.”

  “You did fail that test,” Marquis pointed out sullenly. Amrit was right. He could simply do his own work, he could limit how much else he was taking on. But the idea left him adrift and frightened. If he wasn’t a superhero at work, then who was he? And without that to distract him, what was left except to truly give himself over to who he was with Navin?

  “On my own merits, thank you.” Amrit sounded proud of himself. “Just . . . stop doing the thing, okay? Fix your shit, Marquis.”

  “Maybe I could try calling him.” Marquis didn’t have any pride about it. He just wanted Navin back. They’d been good together, when they’d been together. He liked Navin, liked everything about him: his looks, his intelligence, his patience. Marquis had a lot of happy memories about Navin, and he wanted to make more of them. He couldn’t justify it unless he was good for Navin, though, so he’d have to get himself together. Figure out how to deal with work—and how to deal with himself. “It’s been a couple weeks.”

  “You should. If you wait too long, he’ll think you forgot about him again.” Amrit was quiet for a minute, then he continued somewhat owlishly. “I don’t pay a lot of attention, but I’m sure you dated Navin longer than anybody else you’ve dated since I met you. If he put up with your shit this long, it’s because he wants to be with you pretty damn badly. Don’t think you’re gonna get a better deal.” He elbowed Marquis in the side.

  Marquis didn’t want a better deal. He wanted Navin. And if there was a chance he could still have him . . . He knocked back another shot. “I’ll figure out a way to fix it.”

  Navin —

  Amrit’s going to give me hell. I told him I was going to call. I tried, but my throat closes up and I can’t talk. That means I can’t say everything I need to say to you.

  Like: I’m sorry. I screwed up. I screwed up a lot this year with you. I think my biggest fuckup was not stopping you when you walked out two weeks ago.

  I have more to say, but I think I should say it to your face. You deserve to hear it in person.

  Meet me for lunch? Or drinks? No strings. Think of it as a chance to get my stuff out of your condo, if you want.

  I’m free any day this week, and all weekend. Let me know.

  Yours,

  Marq

  Navin, like an adult, read the email from between his fingers. It had taken him several minutes to open it, torn between hoping it was exactly what it turned out to be and dreading that it would be a request for him to return Marquis’s things—which it also was, but not so much a request as an excuse. He fumbled out a reply with his only two available lunch hours in the next week, sweating over whether it sounded too cool or too eager.

  “Shit.” He slumped in his chair, hands over his face again. Some days, he just wanted to disappear.

  “Hey, Na—” Dev came blowing in the half-open door, then stopped as Navin sat bolt upright. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah,” Navin lied. “Just . . .” He didn’t really have something prepared for what came after that—he hadn’t counted on getting caught in the middle of this dilemma. Shit.

  “You’re a lousy liar. I can tell you’re not okay.” Dev kicked the door shut behind him. Damn it. Navin had tried not to let the breakup affect his work. “Worse, you�
�re hardly trying to cover it up. That’s not like you.”

  “I’m really sorry, Dev. I know I haven’t been doing as well as I was before. I’ll get my shit together.” Navin glanced at the screen. Maybe he should have pretended he’d never gotten the email. Just moved on.

  “He worries about the work. Your work is fine, Navi. You, on the other hand, have been miserable.” Dev dropped a pile of folders on his desk. “You can go through those later. Amrit told me you and Marquis broke up. Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Didn’t seem relevant.” Navin reached for the folders, but Dev put his hand down on the pile.

  “You liked this guy a lot, you were going to introduce him to Mummy, and you don’t think it’s relevant when you break up?” Dev arched one eyebrow, a skill Navin had long envied and never mastered. “Navi, what happened? I thought you two were good.”

  “It just wasn’t working. It sounds so petty, but he was always forgetting me.” Navin ran his hands through his hair. “Always late. I thought things were getting better, and then they weren’t. And there were other things. Things from before that he didn’t tell me. It just made me feel stupid to find out, like he was holding out on me. Like I didn’t matter enough to share it with.”

  Dev looked thoughtful: his problem-solving face. He straightened, crossed his arms over his chest, then paced back and forth in front of Navin’s desk. “The stuff he didn’t tell you, would you have dated him if you’d known about it?”

  Good question. Navin hadn’t thought about it. “Yeah, I guess I would have. It just would have been nice to know what I was getting into.”

  “And he’s late why? Is he with his friends?” Dev’s brows drew together in a dire frown. It was a little heartening to see Dev be cross on his behalf.

  “No. He’s an architect; he’s trying to move up in his firm. He loves his job, and they rely on him a lot. He works long hours.” Navin had been trying to lose himself in his own work lately. It had an appeal to it, but he had something to forget. Marquis didn’t. Hadn’t.

  “Why are you upset about that?” Dev blinked, baffled. “If you’re serious about this man, you should be glad.”

  That wasn’t the response Navin had been expecting. “What?”

  “He’s got a good job, he makes good money. Obviously his superiors respect his work; that’s important.” Now Dev frowned, annoyed with him. “I wouldn’t want you with a man who didn’t have a good job, who didn’t work hard.”

  “He says he’s going to show up and then he doesn’t.” Navin felt like a child when he said it.

  “Then you make him show up. You go get him.” Dev shook his head. “Navin, all your life, you’ve been too good. Too quiet. You think because someone treats you a certain way, it’s how you deserve to be treated, and you don’t stand up for yourself. But this man, Marquis, it’s important he has a good job so he isn’t a burden on you. You’re the one with the security. Mummy isn’t going to fire you. She won’t even fire Amrit. So, you let him do his work and, if you want to be with him, you don’t sit around. You go get him.”

  “It’s that easy? I just go get him?” Navin hadn’t thought of doing it. He’d just been so hurt that Marquis didn’t show up, he’d felt as though Marquis didn’t want to be with him.

  “Yes. If he doesn’t want you showing up, he can come home on time.” Dev threw up his hands in frustration. “Navi. Come on. The last few weeks you two were together you seemed to be doing really well. Stepping up, making decisions. It’s in you. You’re a smart guy, and you’re a good leader. Don’t give it up.” He pointed at Navin. “And if you want Marquis back, take him back. But make him work for it a little. Just this time. So he appreciates you more.”

  Navin couldn’t help laughing. “You sound like Mummy.”

  “I think she had this talk with Sunita. It worked on me.” Dev shrugged—if nothing else, the men in the family knew their shortcomings. “No more moping. You want something, you go get it. Trust me.”

  “I will.” If he could keep his nerve up. “Thanks.”

  As long as Navin wasn’t in front of him, Marquis could pretend he wasn’t nervous. He’d jumped on the first available date Navin had given him: Monday at noon. He hadn’t even checked his own schedule. All that mattered was seeing Navin again. But as soon as the blinding sunlight pouring in from the doorway released Navin into view, Marquis’s gut clenched.

  Whatever he’d told Navin, this meeting meant everything. He couldn’t screw it up.

  Marquis stood to get Navin’s attention and waved him over. “It’s . . . it’s good to see you.”

  “It’s good to see you too.” Navin’s smile was wan but genuine. He seemed hesitant, though. Awkward. He hovered for a moment before pulling out his chair to sit down.

  It hurt more than Marquis had expected, being with Navin but not being with him. His chest clenched to match his gut, and he took a deep breath as he slid into his seat.

  “Thank you for coming,” he said, before a waitress interrupted to bring them their menus.

  “You’re welcome.” Navin put his menu down without looking at it. “I brought your things, like you asked.” He didn’t look happy about it, and he loosened his tie as though it was strangling him. “How are you?” he asked quietly. “Are you okay?”

  A wry smile twisted Marquis’s lips before he could think to put on a show. “I’ve been better.” He picked up the menu, set it down again. “Look—”

  “Sorry, that was a stupid question. I just . . . I’m used to knowing.” Navin ran a hand through his hair, then picked up his menu and gave it a halfhearted glance. “Anyway, go ahead. Sorry.”

  Marquis swallowed down his nerves. “I wanted . . . I wanted us to talk. Everything happened so fast, and we never really talked. Not about anything.”

  “I’m not good at that.” Navin looked at the menu again, probably searching for something close to his usual lunch order. He tended to be a creature of habit. “And . . . I suppose by the time we’d been together long enough to talk, I didn’t want to lose you.” He took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “I guess that’s not a concern now, so there’s nothing to stop us.”

  Somehow, that didn’t make Marquis feel better. But it was an opening, so he ran with it. “I’ve had a lot of time to think, ever since we . . . Neither of us is good at this, at talking about the important stuff. And so we just stumbled along, blindly. And when we did finally acknowledge a problem—”

  The waitress returned, smiling and oblivious as she asked if she could get them anything to drink.

  Marquis ordered iced tea, ignoring the urge to get drunk so he could get through this conversation. He needed to be sober so he could use his goddamn brain—the way he hadn’t been doing throughout their entire relationship.

  Not to mention the fact that it was lunchtime on a workday.

  He missed what Navin said to the waitress, but finally she walked away again. Navin faced him expectantly.

  “Look,” Marquis said carefully, knowing everything hinged on how well he explained himself. “When I brought the . . . the cage to you, I thought it would fix everything. But it didn’t. And it shouldn’t have.”

  Navin slumped back in his chair. “Then what should it have done? What should we have done instead?”

  “We should have talked. It’s not a fix and it’s not simple and I shouldn’t have acted like it was.” Marquis ran his hands over his face. He had to come out with the truth he’d kept back the night of their breakup. “The night you broke up with me, I wasn’t even wearing the cage. I took it off during the day.”

  “Why?” Navin looked genuinely wounded.

  “Why did I take it off?” Marquis took a deep breath. “Because I nearly pulled it out in front of everyone in the john. Because I was already on edge from a shitty presentation.”

  “You never give shitty presentations.” Navin frowned at Marquis, defending him from himself, and Marquis wanted to kiss him for it.

  “It was l
ast minute, and it could have gone better. But that’s not the point.” Marquis waved it off. “The point is that I freaked out at the idea anyone would know. I didn’t tell you about any of it, the cage or the videos, because I was ashamed. Because I didn’t want it to be a real thing.”

  “I’m not ashamed of you.” Navin reached over and put his hand on Marquis’s, familiar and perfect, as though it was such an automatic thing that even them breaking up couldn’t stop it. “There’s nothing wrong with it, Marq. I hope there’s not, because I liked it.” A frown creased his brow. “Are you ashamed of me for liking it?”

  “No.” Marquis didn’t want to move, didn’t want to breathe, in case Navin pulled his hand away. “Hotness aside, I’m not ashamed of you. It suits you. You deserve it. You’re beautiful when you’re in charge—especially when you’re in charge of me.”

  The waitress arrived, rescuing Marquis from babbling, because he could have gone on embarrassingly long about how hot he got when Navin was in control. She set down their glasses and pulled a little black case from her apron. Flipping it open to a fresh sheet of paper, she poised her pen above the page. “Y’all ready to order now, or do you need a few more minutes?”

  Marquis glanced at Navin for confirmation before he said, “Just another minute, if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure thing.” The waitress smiled and tucked her little book away as she flitted off to another table.

  Navin picked up his menu and flipped it open. “For what it’s worth, Dev thinks I’m an idiot for breaking up with you.” He tossed the plastic folder down again and leaned back in his chair as though he were surrendering to something. “So . . . I guess. Talk?”

  Marquis ran his fingers over the dark-blue fabric trim of the menu, trying to gather his thoughts. There was so much he needed to say and, as much as he’d thought about this moment, now that he was here, across the table from Navin, he didn’t know how to put any of it into words. He flattened his palms on the table and started, stumbling. “I know it hurt you, finding those movies. I wasn’t hiding them from you the other times you were over—at least, I wasn’t hiding them from just you. I was hiding them from me, too. I was ashamed. And I didn’t know for sure what I wanted. That whole time, I didn’t understand, until you gave me what I was asking for—”