Second Nature (His Chance 2)

“We posted some of them, the ones I signed off on. Not that one! Choosing to post certain images on social media and letting my ex have his pick are two very different things.”

“You’re right, and I’m so sorry. I made a mistake.”

“It’s not even about this photo, although that’s really not okay,” he said, much more quietly. “It’s about the fact that you snuck around behind my back, did something I specifically asked you not to, and betrayed my trust. You get that, right?”

I’d expected him to be mad. It had seemed like a small price to pay for getting his business off the ground. But he wasn’t just angry. He was hurt, and that was so much worse.

I’d sworn never to hurt him, and the moment I saw the pain in his eyes, I knew I’d failed. “I’m really sorry, Gabriel. I totally fucked up.” Those words weren’t enough. Not by a long shot.

“You were the only guy I’d ever been involved with that I thought I could absolutely trust. The only one.” He said that softly. Then he started walking away from me, heading out of the Castro.

I called, “Please wait,” and started to run after him.

But he whirled on me with tears in his eyes and yelled, “No! I don’t want you to follow me. Just leave me alone.”

He took off running, his heels clicking against the pavement as Will came up to me and asked, “What’s happening?”

“I fucked up. I hurt him, and I promised never to do that.”

Will gestured toward the street with a worried expression. “Phoenix is tying up traffic. Why don’t you come with me?”

I shook my head and tried to swallow the lump in my throat. “I can’t. Not now. Go without me.”

A horn blared in the street, and he gave me a quick hug and said, “I have to go, but I’ll talk to you soon, okay? Call me if you need anything, and don’t worry. I’m sure you two will work it out.” A few more people started honking their horns to try to get Phoenix to move, and when I nodded, Will turned and ran back to the SUV.

It felt like my whole world had just ended.

I went back and stood in front of that huge poster, and then I pulled my phone from my jacket pocket and sent Roger a message, which said: What the fuck did you do?

He replied a moment later with: You have to be more specific, mate. I do a lot of things.

I felt like punching him in the face. Why is there a fucking eight-foot-tall poster of Gabriel on Castro Street?

Roger’s next text said: Blimey. You saw that already, did you? It’s only been up about two hours.

I ground my teeth and responded: It’s pretty fucking hard to miss. Gabriel saw it, too. I think he just broke up with me.

He wrote: Where are you now?

I sighed and replied: Right where he left me, in front of that goddamn poster.

A moment later, the door to the shop opened and Roger joined me on the sidewalk. I’d never seen him in jeans and a sweatshirt before, and there was a streak of pink paint on his cheek. I said, “Even though I know you can snap me like a twig, I really want to punch you right now.”

He held his hands out to the sides and said, “Go ahead, mate. Free shot. Just not the face, yeah? I’m a bit of a bleeder, if I’m honest.”

“I’m not going to hit you, but what the fuck, Roger? Remember me telling you not to go nuts? In case I was unclear,” I waved my hands at the building and yelled, “this is what going nuts looks like!”

“But look at this fucking location, mate! It’s prime real estate. You think shops on this block come available every day? Let me answer that for you. No, they bloody well do not.”

“He didn’t want this, Roger. Not the shop, the ‘prime location’, the fucking eight-foot poster, or any of it. He also didn’t want your help, but I thought it’d be okay to go to you anyway and just get the names of a few contacts. That’s it. Just some names. Not this!”

“Well, in for a penny, in for a pound as they say.”

I asked, “What does that mean?”

“Gabriel needed my help, so I gave it to him. Did I do more than you asked? Yes. Did I get carried away? That’s open to interpretation. But look at this place, Riley! We’re in the very heart of gay America, and all these people? They’re his target audience. It couldn’t be more perfect.”

I sighed and pushed back my hair with both hands. “I met with you ten days ago. Ten days! How the hell did you do this in such a short time?”