“I really should go back to my place,” Ben said, though he made no effort to move. He was lying on David’s couch, his head in David’s lap.

“Have another one,” David said, ignoring him. He took a ripe strawberry from the bowl beside him and dropped it into Ben’s open mouth.

When they’d awoken from their sex-induced nap, he’d taken Ben to his favorite local gourmet market. They’d bought fresh fruit, various cheeses, black olives, crusty fresh bread and for Ben, a bottle of red wine. They’d eaten from the feast at David’s kitchen table, retiring to the couch with the unfinished berries and the half empty bottle of wine.

David kept waiting for Ben to probe more about why he didn’t drink. And oddly, for the first time, he felt he might eventually confide the reason. But not yet. They were too new.

“You’re spoiling me,” Ben said lazily as he licked the strawberry juice from his lips.

“I feel like some kind of Greek god lying about on Mount Olympus with the most handsome god of all feeding me fruit and wine.”

David smiled. “You know who you look like?” he asked suddenly.

“Who?”

“Owen Wilson. You know, the actor?”


“Your nose, yes. And those full, sexy lips.
“My nose, you mean,” Ben laughed. “Actually you’re not the first person to tell me that.”But your eyes, those amazing eyes—sometimes they’re clear green, other times gray. They seem to change with your mood. I swear I could fall into them when you stare at me.”

Ben smiled. “You’ve got a poetic nature, David. I’m not used to being with someone like you. I think I could get used to it in a hurry though.” He sat up and turned to face David. “I feel so easy with you. I don’t have to watch my every move, question my motives, watch my back.”

“Man, it sure sounds like Carl did a number on you. Why did you stay with him so long?” Ben flushed and looked down. “Hey, I’m sorry. I have no right to question you like that. I know things can seem very different when you’re actually in a relationship than when you finally get out.”


Ben flashed a grateful look at him. “Yeah, I guess that’s part of it. Things weren’t always bad between us. I’m actually the one who went after him. He was the aloof one, telling me at first he never got involved with anyone from Wall Street. Said he didn’t shit where he ate, as I recall.”

“I’ve always hated that expression,” David said, making a face.

“Me too. Obviously we did get involved. He was very cool at first, which just spurred me on, I guess. You know, the classic story—you always want the one who plays hard to get.”

“Until you get him,” David laughed.

Ben sighed. “At first I couldn’t get enough of him. I loved to be with him. He was exciting. I mistook his dark, dangerous quality for something sexy, instead of something manipulative and controlling, which eventually it turned out to be. At first I was like an eager puppy at the car window when he’d come around. After keeping me at arm’s length for several weeks, when we did finally go out on a real date and then home to fall into bed, the experience was explosive. Even toward the end the sex was always very intense. Even after the arguments. Especially after the arguments, when it sometimes seemed he used sex as a weapon, as a way of expressing his anger and disguising it as passion.” His face clouded.

“Why did you leave?” David asked. “What was the final straw?”

“His fist through a wall, I guess.”

“Whoa.”

“Yeah. He has anger issues. Obviously.” Ben smiled, but his expression was pained.

“He’s a very possessive guy. At first I liked it. I mean, it made me feel valued, special.

Especially because I was the one who went after him to start with. After we made love the first time, he couldn’t seem to get enough of me. He called me each morning on the way to work to say hi, and he wanted me to keep Instant Messenger open on my computer so he could check in. Neither of us have time for lunch very often, but we could stay in touch during the day that way. At first it was great. I thought we were falling in love and this was what lovers did—they stayed connected.

“We’d meet for dinner and go back to one of our places, usually his. He said my queen-sized bed was too small—he has a king of course. Looking back now, I think he enjoyed having me in his space—it was one more subtle form of control. But back then I didn’t think that way. I loved falling asleep in his arms.

“Sometimes though, I didn’t want to see him. I had other things I like to do. I like to play racquetball and I have a Wednesday night poker game. Once we were seriously dating, he’d convince me to skip all that and stay with him. ‘What do you want to play cards for when we can be together?’ It was the first time I started feeling a little crowded by him. I mean, I was into him and all that, but I didn’t want to give up things that were important to me.”

“Of course not,” David agreed.

“Well, he went with it for a while, but then he started saying things like, ‘If you really loved me, you wouldn’t want to spend all night away from me playing poker in some smoke-filled basement until all hours of the morning.’ I would feel guilty and skip a week or two just to keep him happy.”

“Uh-oh,” David said.

“Yeah, uh-oh is right. Once I gave up racquetball and my poker games, he wanted more ‘proof’ of my devotion. He wanted me to move in with him. To just give up my place and move in.”

“You’d be crazy to give up that apartment.”

“You got that right! It’s rent controlled too. I’d never find anything close to that if we were ever to break up, I’d tell him. That would make him angry. He’d accuse me of planning to break up already and demand to know who I was now seeing. It got to be crazy. I started going to my poker game again, partly to prove to him and maybe even more to myself that I could. That I was still my own man. He actually accused me of having an affair with one of the men. The guy is married, for god’s sake!”

“How’d he counter that?” David asked.

“Said it was the perfect front. That he wouldn’t be the first married guy to take a gay lover.”

“Jeez, you couldn’t catch a break, huh?”

“Nope. I think he even followed me toward the end. I never actually caught him doing it, but sometimes the things he would say led me to think he’d been spying on me. It was a very disconcerting feeling. When I called him on it, he’d get so angry I was almost afraid of him.”

Ben paused, staring into the middle distance, his brow creasing. “It’s ironic, but he pushed me away by trying to keep me so close. He made his own dire prophesy I would be the one to leave him come true. He really left me no choice. I would have suffocated if I’d stayed with him. It got to where he wouldn’t let me take a leak without asking me where I was going.”

“Did he ever hit you?”

“No. I think he wanted to but, thank god, it never went that far. He did shove me a few times. He’d clench his fists sometimes, as if he could barely control himself. I think the night he hit the wall he wanted to hit me. I guess he didn’t dare. I’m at least as strong as he is. It’s different than with a woman who weighs a hundred pounds less than you do. He shocked me though, when he smashed the wall. I realized his rage could really get out of control, dangerously out of control. Something in me finally snapped at that point. I knew right then I was done with him.”

“Yet you went to the wedding with him…” David said softly, a question in his voice.

“I know.” Ben put his head in his hands and then lifted his face, his expression weary. “He wears you down, you know? He comes back, head hanging, so sincere, so earnest. I felt sorry for him. I guess I still fell for his lines about loving me so much the passion sometimes overflowed in inappropriate ways. He hates to go to weddings alone. I’d promised to go months before. He was making friendly overtures and I guess I was relieved he was behaving himself. He wasn’t saying let’s get back together. He seemed to have accepted it was over between us. Then at the wedding he started in again with the jealousy thing.”

“Over me.” David couldn’t help smiling.

“Yes,” Ben said. “Over you.”

“Well, I’m not glad he gave you grief, but I am glad I got to be the one to take you home that night.” He reached out and stroked Ben’s cheek. “And I guess he’s out of the picture now. I mean, he’s left you alone since the wedding, right? Maybe he’s finally reconciled himself to it all. Maybe he’s even found a new guy and you’re just a dim memory.”

“Maybe,” Ben said, but he didn’t sound convinced.