the same man passed out in his bed that morning, and he took a moment to wonder how he’d let things get this far.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” he whispered to himself. Who the hell had an existential crisis about body wash and engagement rings first thing in the morning?
He scrubbed up and rinsed off, then made his way to the bedroom where the bed was now empty. Three years ago, Max would have been waiting for him with his legs slightly parted and arms out. He would have dragged a laughing Xan to the sheets and gotten him off at least once before he had to be out the door.
Xan couldn’t remember the last time they’d done that. Longer than just months, longer than a year, he was pretty sure. The last time he had an orgasm that hadn’t come from porn on mute and his hand drenched in lube had been their anniversary. Max showed up late, already drunk, and grabbed Xan by the hair and urged him into a sloppy blowjob.
When it was over, he laid there and let Xan rut against his hip until he came, but there was no satisfaction in it. He felt a little dirty afterward and a little used. He curled up on his side and listened to Max snore, and his heart cracked right down the center.
With a small breath, he quickly dressed for campus, though his Wednesdays were mostly just him in the library pretending like he was doing research on his thesis, which was officially behind schedule. He had one lecture in the afternoon, but he liked being away from home. He liked being on campus now that it felt like his instead of the graveyard of his boyfriend’s exes who were all watching him and waiting for shit to fall apart.
In the kitchen, he glanced around for a note letting him know Max had already taken off for work, but he didn’t see one. It was telling that he just didn’t care anymore. He poured a bowl of cereal and started the coffee pot, then sat at their tiny table with the wobbly stools and swiped open his phone screen.
Unknown: Hey, this is Luca from the park. I just wanted to ask you about your hours because I really could use the extra hand with Ivy. I’m home most of the day, but she needs someone there in the afternoon for about two hours.
Xan: Sorry, I think you have the wrong number. I’d offer to help, but I’d be the world’s worst babysitter.
Unknown: Ah shit.
Unknown: Sorry for swearing.
Xan: LOL no worries. I’m a grad student. I think my brain is like 90% swear words.
Unknown: Oh, those were the days.
Unknown: You wouldn’t happen to know anyone with dog-walking credentials, would you?
Xan: Sorry, my social life is kind of pathetic. Professors, classmates I hate, and a boyfriend who
He abruptly stopped typing, but the nervous way his fingers moved hit send before he meant to. He watched little bubbles appear on the screen, then fade, then appear, then fade. Luca seemed like a nice enough guy, and frankly Xan had never had a wrong number carry on a conversation with him for so long.
Unknown: Are you okay?
Xan closed his eyes and breathed out and told himself not to tell some stranger that he was in the middle of his life falling apart with no way to know what the ground would look like when he landed. And how it wasn’t the first time, because shit had been so wrong for such a goddamn long time, but every time he tried to end it, Max would pull him back into his orbit of chaos, and he was starting to wonder if he’d ever get free.
Xan: Bad morning, sorry.
Unknown: Are you in any sort of danger?
Xan: No. Unless you count a mid-twenties crisis because everything in your life is shit and you only just realized it.
Xan: Fuck, I’m sorry. I should let you go find your dog walker.
Unknown: I’m sending you a link. I know it’s technically the cheater app, but the thread is me and my husband, and he’s an even better listener than I am. I know we’re strangers, but if you need to talk to someone, we’re here.
Xan: I don’t know what to say.
Unknown: You don’t have to say anything. Or you can tell me to fuck off. But something in my gut is telling me that you could use a friend, and I promise we’re actually good people. And you