When I arrive at work Monday morning, I find out that Jack has called sick. And I'm relieved... and ashamed by my relief... After work, my conscience convinces me to check on him.

I find out his address from Catherine and come to Jack with a package of fruits. Jack opens the door, wrapped in a blanket. He sniffs incessantly. I make him chicken broth. Jack eats it gratefully. I tell him about the day at the studio. Jack, even in his condition, manages to joke. I'm trying to learn from him.

Today there was a photo shoot for a cellphone commercial. I take my phone out of my pocket and pretend to be a model. It makes Jack smile. Then I put my phone on the table and wash the dishes, even though Jack protested.

"Thank you for stopping by," Jack says. "And for the fruits too," he smiles sadly. "See you soon."

Odd... when I came he wasn't like that. He even flirted a bit. But his goodbye was aloof. In the elevator, I look at my phone, and it dawns on me. There is a picture of me and Hart on my lock screen. The one where he has a parsley mustache, and I have a dill beard.

...maybe it's for the best. At least no explanations are needed...

Well, yes... this is Hart's way to go about things.

Speaking of the devil... There he is. Waiting for me again at the entrance. This time, he's even more sullen.

How long has he been waiting for me here?..

"Where have you been?" He asks in a dull voice, not looking at me, as soon as I closed the door.

"What?" I ask. "At work, then I visited a colleague."

"And on Sunday, you visited him too?" this sounds harsher, and Hart's gaze pierces me.

"So what? It's none of your business," I say. I know how much this will anger Hart. And also, I know, it will hurt him. And I do it because Hart hurts me.

It's a sick relationship. Even sicker than when I decided to love the dead man all my life!

Hart pushes me against the wall, but that doesn't scare me.

"No, Hart," I say firmly. "Not everything is solved with fists, booze, or sex. You know what else people do, huh? They're fucking talking! With their mouths! About their feelings for example! Would you like to tell me how you feel for a change, Hart?!"

Hart lets me go and paces around the room. When I come closer he pushes me away. He avoids my gaze and seems to be close to a breakdown.

"Hart, stop! Enough!" I grab him by the shoulders. I want him to look at me. But he tries to free himself. Perhaps this is what Hart wanted. We get into a scuffle, and I end up knocking Hart to the floor. But no... I will not be one who will leave such a mark on his face.

I lean close to him and speak as calmly as possible, "Why are you doing this, Hart? Why don't you wanna talk to me? Haven't I deserved your trust? Why don't you let me be closer to you? Are you ashamed of this? Is the thought of being with me so unbearable to you? And then why do you keep coming back? Is the thought of living without me unbearable too?"

Maybe I think too much of myself?

I have never seen Hart like this, and will never forget it - his eyes, his face. This picture is etched in my memory.

He throws me off of him with shaking hands. "You don't understand me, Gray," he says, voice trembling.

"So you at least try to explain," I stand in front of him.

Words and Hart, apparently, are incompatible...

"I can't be like you," he finally says. "I can't live like you..."

"And what do you call your life? Maintaining the appearance that you are straight, drinking in bars and fighting, having sex with whores or drug addicts, going to jail... Is this your life, Hart? Is this what you want?"

He is silent again.

I continue, "Why do you come to me then? Do you know we've slept twice already? And for the record, the fact that you were on top does not negate the fact that you slept with a man."

Hart clenches his teeth. Maybe I'm doing everything wrong and putting pressure on him. I don't know... what do I know about relationships at all?.. Moreover, this is Hart...

I go on, "I don't know what you were trying to do to yourself. Did you try to knock out who you are in fights? Or forget? I don't know, but... obviously, it didn't work. So maybe you will finally try to accept it, and we..." Now it becomes difficult for me to talk. "We... will try to do something together?"

My heart is pounding like mad as if I had just offered Hart to marry me. I don't think he will appreciate it, but... I know what I want.

And Hart wanted to leave.

A pale disc of the moon hangs over the city. It looks tired. If it were my model, I would require to do some refreshing makeup.

I sit in the dark by the window and look at the sky. The stars are almost invisible from here, but I like the simple blackness. I try to drown my melancholy in it.

I try to force myself to believe that "this too shall pass"...

In essence, this is true. And under the moon, nothing lasts forever.

I thought I could never fall in love after Kyle. So it means that after Hart it is too early to give up on me. It doesn't make me feel any better now, but at least that way I know that there are stars beyond the blackness, even if I can't see them now.

I can't wait until the end of the working week, and on Friday evening I run back to my parents. I don't know why I do this... Maybe these are the remnants of puerility in a twenty-five-year-old body? I'm calm in my room. I have pancakes, a comic book collection, old video games... Did I say the remnants of puerility? I can share it with everyone!

Mom no longer knows what to do with me, so she sends me to ask if Mr. Murray needs help with anything. He is glad to see me and asks me to take the boat to the pier. I enjoy driving his pickup truck, trying not to concentrate on the memories associated with it.

The day promises to be clear, and the road winds like a ribbon. There are almost no cars. Only one motorcycle coming up.

The heart immediately sinks.

It was Hart. Of course, he did not see me driving the pickup truck, but...

I turn up the music, trying to muffle my thoughts. I get to the pier and leave the boat, but I am in no hurry to go back. I do not doubt that Hart was on his way to my parents' house. But why?.. And why did I get so nervous?..

Because... bloody Hart...

When I make a decision, he comes and ruins everything.

Well, maybe I should see it through to the end. Put an end to it.

I get behind the wheel again and drive back to the house. From afar I can see Hart's motorcycle by the side of the road. Hart stands leaning against the bike. I park the pickup and walk toward the house.

When I approach Hart, I stop and say nothing. It's not my turn...

"We..." Hart begins. "Can we talk?"

"Speak," I say shortly.

"Not here."

"Where?"

"Can we go up to your room?"

"What can't you tell me here?"

"Please," Hart's voice is softening instead of getting harder (as I expected). In this request, I cannot refuse him, and we go up to my room. Mom's face looks worried again.

In the room, he first looks around and sits on the sofa. I sit down in the chair opposite. But Hart is in no hurry to reveal all the cards...

"Hear me out, Gray," he says. It's like he really prepared for this. This time I will be silent. I don't want to scare him off, I'm curious. Perhaps now I will witness the longest Hart's monologue in history. So I just nod.

"I think you have already realized that I am not an easy person."

I suppress a smile.

"You saw the house where I grew up. Saw my family and managed to ask Natalie about my father. And... what can I say? An abusive alcoholic and nearly a killer is still better than a faggot son."

Hart clasps his hands.

"You know about my scar. And you saw all my scars really. Some of them are made by me..." Hart makes a pause and looks at me. "I don't know what I was trying to do, but you were right, it didn't work, and in the end you..."

I feel like a stretched string.

"You... are the best thing that has happened to me in my entire life," he finishes.

I freeze in surprise... that's probably the best thing Hart could say to me at all. But he continues, "And you were right, the thought that I want to be with you was unbearable to me, but without you... it is unbearable too."

I have never been told such words before. But he still continues, "You said that we... we can try to do something together. And if this offer is still valid, then I want it too."

Now he is staring at me. Do I need to answer something? Isn't the answer written on my face?

"Do you understand exactly what this means?" I must test him before I start launching fireworks.

Hart is silent for a long time, looking me straight in the eyes.

"Yes," he finally answers. "Do you?" his question is deadly serious. And since I'm silent processing, Hart elaborates, "I don't want your pity, I don't want you to play savior," he shakes his head. "I know I'm broken in many ways. But I don't need you to fix me. I just wanted you to know this. You can refuse. I promise I will leave you alone."

I cross the room and sit beside Hart. It's like I wanted him to feel what I feel toward him.

"Call me stupid," I say looking down at my feet. "I've seen you at your lowest, I think. Couldn't scare me off." I give Hart a side-long look. He holds my eye and I see a smile in his gaze.

So I go on, "I think you're strong enough to save yourself. I just want to be there for you and help you in a way I can... and honestly... just be with you. This is what I want."

"I want it too," replies Hart hoarsely.

And suddenly I'm paralyzed by my happiness for the first time in my life. Can I believe it?

"Can I kiss you?" I ask, smiling at Hart's confused face.

"You never need to ask."

This feels like the very first kiss. A bit timid, but genuine and without restraints.

When I pull back, Hart's face is flushed, and I can't look at him without a smile. He raises his arm awkwardly and pulls me to him, and I hide my face in his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of motor oil and leather jacket.

Without the slightest bit of doubt... Now, this is my Hart.