Wood: A True Lover's Story

Adam shook his head sadly as if Wood just didn’t get it. “We weren’t over. We didn’t end our engagement… we were torn apart.”

Wood touched Adam’s flushed cheek. “You must remember it differently than I do. We weren’t in a good place, Adam. We hadn’t been for months. You had given me back the ring, and you were staying at the condo less and less. That’s what we were fighting about that night when I took off after you and snatched the keys.”

Adam ducked his head. “I was the drunk one that night. You’d had two beers, maybe three. It should’ve been me in that jail cell.”

Wood huffed an unamused chuckle. He no longer reevaluated his mistakes with should’ves and would’ves. “Adam. I came to you a few weeks ago to apologize for impacting your life so horribly. To tell you that I was sorry so I could move on peacefully with my life. I never meant to imply that I wanted to insert myself back into yours.”

“I never stopped thinking about you. Loving you,” Adam said, not quite meeting his eyes.

Perhaps they were both thinking the same thing. If Adam never forgot him, even after he woke from his coma, why no letters or visits? Not even one. Wood smirked, realizing Adam’s lie didn’t faze him in the least. “Yes you did. But that’s okay.”

“I’m sorry.” Adam shook his head. “Too much time had passed, and I didn’t know what the hell to say. I was an inadequate partner that cost you everything. It was selfish to still try to hold on to you.”

“Really. It’s okay. Come inside for a second,” Wood stressed. Even though Trent had been clear about Adam not being in his house—understandably—Wood couldn’t leave him outside on the porch as if he was a vacuum salesman. “I need to get my cell phone and call Trent. And you can write down the name and address of the storage where the rest of my stuff is.”

“Sure, Wood. If this is the life you want.” Adam used his cane to point to a troubled side of the trailer that needed some repairs. “I won’t try to stop you if you’re really happy. You just… you don’t look happy.”

“I just had a fight with my partner and he took off, Adam. Until he’s back in our house and in my bed… I won’t be happy.”

Wood dialed Trent’s number for what felt like the hundredth time, kicking the side of the dining room chair in frustration when it once again went to voicemail. Wood waited for the prompt before he started speaking. “Trent. How many times are you gonna make me call? Where are you? Just come home.” He sighed heavily into the receiver before he disconnected.

Wood walked back and forth from the front of the trailer to the back as he waited for a return call. Anytime he heard a loud engine on his street, he darted to the door only to be disappointed each time. The hour hand on the kitchen clock ticked by slowly as day turned to night, and Trent still hadn’t come home. With a heavy heart, Wood cleaned up the broken lamp and changed the linen on the bed just in case any glass had splintered in that direction. He wanted it to be all nice and neat when his baby got back.

Wood pulled his phone out his shorts pocket and hit Redial. “Trent. Come home. I’m waiting for you, okay. I’m not… I’m not leaving… even if you try to put me out.”

The more hours that went by, the more frantic each message became.

“Trent. It’s getting late. It’s dangerous to be out so late. You… you could fall under a bad element.”

“Trent. I didn’t do anything. This is ridiculous. Come home so we can talk. I have something important to tell you.”

“Trent, how’s your back? You haven’t had any medicine all day. Come home, please.”

By midnight he was so angry he was barely refraining from obliterating his cell phone with his bare hands.

“And you call me disrespectful! What about rule number eleven, Trent! No scaring the hell out of each other!” Wood pressed the End button and slammed his phone down repeatedly on the table. Dangit!

Eleven minutes later he dialed back. “I may have been a little loud on that last call. Come home. I made chicken.”

A little after one, Trent’s calls went straight to voicemail as if it was dead. What if he was stranded on the side of the road and couldn’t walk to a phone because of his back. Or what if he fell asleep in a park? Wood hadn’t let him get much sleep the night before. His heart was pounding like a jackhammer the more crazy the scenarios his scared brain conjured up. He left his last message on Trent’s phone. “You give me no choice.”