A Nice Night For A Surprise; part 2

It was confusing.  Seeing it.  He couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing at first. He’d always imagined it would feel different, walking in on something like that, seeing the betrayal, but Caleb felt largely bewildered.  Initially.  And embarrassed.  Because he’d seen something he shouldn’t have.  Walked in on something intimate and illicit and he felt ashamed, like a child might at glimpsing a graphic movie scene or accidentally catching his parents in a private moment.

And he apologized.  He felt the imperative to speak, to make his presence known, and all that sprang to his lips was “I’m sorry.”

And everything started happening very fast.  Gideon leapt up, the young man grabbed a pillow to cover himself, and Caleb started backing out of the room apologizing repeatedly.  It took Gideon a moment to throw on his robe and chase after Caleb and he didn’t manage to catch up with him until the kitchen. 

“Caleb, please, Caleb, stop.”

And Caleb did stop.  He was dazed.  And dizzy?  He couldn’t really tell.  Nothing made sense.  He stopped beside the kitchen island and waited for Gideon to catch up.

“Honey, please—“  Gideon placed his hand gently on Caleb’s back and that’s when it started to hurt.  That’s when the confusion gave way to sharp understanding, when the embarrassment shifted into grief, when the numbness was replaced by the burning, constricting agony of betrayal.

Caleb stepped out of Gideon’s reach.  “No.”

“Caleb, honey, please just listen—“

“No.”  What was there to be said?  He couldn’t look at Gideon.  He walked toward the entryway.

“Caleb!” 

Caleb was dimly aware, as he opened the big yellow door, that this was his home, his townhouse and that he should be asking Gideon and the young man to leave, but he knew he couldn’t do that.  He just needed to go.  He needed to be far away from their bedroom and their picnic that he’d set out on their living room floor, and their life together.  He needed to get the hell away from it all.

“I love you.”  Gideon said, grabbing the big yellow door before Caleb could shut it in his face.

Caleb froze.  His mouth was dry and his hands, he realized, were shaking, his thoughts were jumbled and he felt an actual, physical pain all over his body, as though he had been tortured on a rack or something.  Were his lips numb?  Jesus.  He was dizzy.  Lightheaded. 

“I love you.”  Gideon repeated, more softly, more urgently.  “Please, please don’t go- please stay, please, we’ll talk—“

“I’m sorry.”  Caleb said slowly.

Gideon paused, his mouth open, his face angst ridden. 

Caleb looked at him and had the strangest sensation that he was looking at a stranger, or an acquaintance from some distant memory.  He studied those deep concerned eyes, the proud nose, the chiseled jaw, and he didn’t see the man he loved, couldn’t seem to recognize the lover he had been about to ask to marry him.  He didn’t know who he was looking at and he felt nauseated.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”  Gideon said, miserable.

Caleb winced and blinked rapidly.  He was crying, he hadn’t realized that he was crying and wondered when the tears had started.  He shook his head, trying to focus, trying to dispel some of the lightheaded fuzziness that was threatening to engulf his consciousness.  “No.”  He said softly.  “No.”

Gideon reached out, maybe to be tender, maybe to help steady him, he couldn’t be sure.  Either way Caleb knew he couldn’t let him touch him again.  Not ever again.  He dodged the outstretched hand and backed away.  “No.”

“Don’t go like this.”  Gideon begged.  “Please, just talk to me, Caleb, you can’t go like this.”

Caleb backed slowly and carefully down the brick steps, shaking his head and keeping his eyes on that handsome but unrecognizable person by the big yellow door.  His chest felt so heavy, he felt like he might be crushed under the weight of some invisible force.  The pain of it stole his breath. 

Caleb saw movement somewhere behind Gideon and knew the young man must have thrown some clothes on and come down stairs.  He pressed his eyes closed.  He didn’t want to see him.  Didn’t want to know who he was.  He’d seen more than enough already.  “I’m sorry.”  Caleb said desperately and, spinning on his heel, fled back to his car, fumbled in his pants pocket for the keys, threw himself behind the wheel and got out of there as fast as he could manage. 

He was reckless and scattered and panicked and manic and he didn’t know where to go, but he needed to go.  He had to.