Dreamy Dylan

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#21 Too good for me

When I get home the next day, Kian is nowhere to be seen. I find two empty bottles of wine on the coffee table, and the mess of him making nachos on the kitchen counter. There is cheese stuck to the oven timer, and chips fallen and crunched on the floor. Looks like he had a fight with all of the ingredients. He didn’t even put the oven dish in hot water to soak. He must have been very much out of it.

I’m still upset over what happened, but I have since had a good night’s sleep, cuddled with Mila to feel a little better, talked to Liv and Andre this morning, ate a whole bunch of cupcakes, and took a walk. I’m no longer hungover, and I’m ready to finish this fight with Kian. He’s probably still asleep, so I guess I’ll have to wake him up first.

He groans when I nudge him, and dramatically throws an arm over his face. It’s annoying how cute he looks. I try to hold onto my anger from last night, because I know I need to let him have it today. What he said wasn’t okay. On so many levels. I’m done making excuses for him. Either things change for real from this day forward, or…

I don’t even want to think about the other option, but I know that our relationship can’t stay the way it is. All we seem to do these days is fight and make up, fight and make up, fight and make up. The only upside is the make-up sex, I guess. The sex is still good. Some days, it feels like we only truly connect on a sexual level.

Still, I persevered these past months. And I’m still willing to work on us if he’s going to do the same. I’ve never had a relationship that lasted this long. I don’t fall in love easily. The same goes for Kian. We’re both inexperienced despite being 32 and 39. You don’t give up on someone just because you’re going through a rough patch. At least, I think this is a rough patch.

What if your entire relationship starts to feel like a rough patch? With only small reprieves of cuddles, sweetness, and kisses?

“Babe?” I nudge Kian again. “It’s past noon.”

He sits up suddenly, his eyes going wide as he takes me in. “Dylan,” he croaks. “You’re here.” He rubs his hands over his face and coughs.

I grab the bottle of water from his nightstand and give it to him, watching him guzzle half of it down. “How about you take a shower, I make us some coffee, and we have a much-needed talk?”

“Yes,” he agrees, still sounding like it hurts to talk. “I’ll be down in ten.”

He reaches for me, probably wanting a kiss or a hug, but I’m not in the mood. I didn’t stop loving in the span of one night, and I wish I could forget all about our fight and curl up in bed with him, but it doesn’t work like that. We’ve got issues too big to brush them under the rug for much longer. We need to fix this today, or…

Or we need to break up.

With an aching heart, I go downstairs and make us some coffee. I also clean up the mess he made. I’m only just finishing with vacuuming when he walks in, looking like a truck ran over him. In a weird way, it’s reassuring to know that our fight affected him too. That it’s not just me suffering.

He hesitates when he reaches me. Once again, he tries to go in for a hug, but I step aside and pretend to fix something on the kitchen counter. It’s too soon. Too much has happened this time around for me to forgive and forget this easily.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, sinking down onto a chair and wrapping his hands around the mug of coffee. “I’ve been trying to figure out a way to apologize all night.”

“Was that before or after you drank two bottles of wine and made your nachos explode all over the kitchen?” I can’t help but ask.

He groans. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I was just so upset. I’ve never… I don’t know how to do any of this, Dylan. I know I’ll be 40 soon, but in so many ways, I feel like I’m 16, in love for the first time, trying to figure out how the hell any of this works.”

“I know, but at some point…” I struggle to find the right words, not wanting to hurt him too badly, but still needing to be firm. I sit down across from him and sip my coffee. “It’s not like I’ve had lasting relationships either. I’ve had my heart broken, been dumped after only a few dates for ridiculous reasons like being bisexual or not having a big cock, and I don’t always know what I’m doing either. Still, I know how not to be a dick.” Okay, that came out hasher than I meant it, but it’s the truth, isn’t it? He was a total dick last night.

“I know, you’re so good to me, and I can be such an asshole.” Kian’s voice is raw and his eyes are wet with unshed tears. “I’m surprised you even came home at all. I half-expected you to text me to put your stuff in a box and drop it off with Thomas or something.”

“I would never do that.” My tone is softer now, and I reach out to take his hand in mine.

He lets out a pained sigh and squeezes so hard it hurts. I hate seeing him like this, but I know I need to push through this. If I forgive him too easily this time around, I don’t think anything will ever change, and I desperately need it to.

“I can’t promise we’ll make it.” My voice is trembling, but I still go on. “But I can promise that I would never leave like that. I’d always talk to you first. Say goodbye. I thought you knew me well enough by now to realize that.”

“I do, you’re amazing,” he replies right away. “You’re way too good for me.”

That sentence hits me all wrong, and I pull my hand out of his grasp. “You say that now, but you usually make me feel like I’m not good enough for you.”

He looks completely baffled. “Like you’re… but you are…”

“I’m too much for you,” I explain. “You think I dress too gay. I’m loud, weird, too touchy-feely with my friends. I smoke weed, I like to go out and have a good time, and you’d rather have me at home with you, sipping wine and watching TV. You think all my friends – who are a lot like me, might I add – are annoying and a menace to be around. How does any of that add up to be being too good for you? Or good enough, even?”

“I love you,” he says like that fixes anything. “I’m insecure sometimes, and struggling with my sexuality still, I guess, and that… that makes it hard for me that you and your friends are so out in every aspect of the word. But it doesn’t mean you need to change! You’re perfect just the way you are. You’re so confident, so at ease in your own skin. I wish I was like that.” When I don’t respond right away, he repeats: “I love you.”

“Just because you love me, doesn’t mean I feel loved by you.”

We’re both quiet after that, and I can tell my words are getting to him. It looks like something is clicking in his mind, and he nods slowly.

“Okay, yeah, I get that. And I hate that you don’t feel loved, but I do understand that I make you feel like that. I’m sorry. The whole thing last night with your friends… It’s not that I think you’re a cheater, it’s just… You could do so much better than me, and you have many friends who you’re extremely close with. It makes me uncomfortable.”

“I get that, but I’m not going to stop hugging my friends or dancing with them or sleeping in bed with them.”

His expression changes completely at that last part. “Sleeping in bed with them? Why would you sleep in the same bed as any of them?”

Oh shit. Fuck my life. I was always going to tell him, of course, but blurting it out like this might not have been the best way to do so.

“Dylan?” Kian’s voice is tight. “Did you sleep with someone last night?”

***

Some of you guessed that this was going to cause a fight between them. Now tell me… How do you think the fight will end? Anyone still rooting for Kian and Dylan? Or did that ship sail already? And would you be okay with your partner sleeping in bed with a friend, or do you sympathize with Kian’s response?

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