I watch from a back window of our house as Jaye, giddy as can be post-sex, gets in Thad’s car and they pull out towards the end of the drive. He has class before long, so maybe they’re going to have lunch. What do I care?

From my hidden position, I see Jaye place several kisses on the man that’s undeserving of his affections. I hope he drives off a cliff after dropping Jaye off.

Not giving a damn about the food that everyone else is munching on and sorting through, I take control of the remote in the living room.

I turn the TV to a live stream of an underwater cam. It relaxes me. I love the ocean. It’s beautiful and mysterious. You never know what’s about to swim in front of the camera from the infinite abyss. Anyone else glancing at the screen might think it’s a boring, lonely void of water. They can’t see what I see; excitement and hope.

Art, our live-in self-appointed jokester, sits down beside me. “Staring into nothingness again, huh?”

“Bite me.”

“Speaking of your chilly attitude, you could have been nicer to Thad, you know? He seems like a good guy and Jaye likes him.”

Yeah, I was a dick to him. I might have indicated that he was buying Jaye’s ass, but he is so I don’t feel bad about throwing it in his face.

Responding to Art, “Hmm, you’re standing up for a stranger because he bought you a bunch of junk food. You’re as cheap as Jaye. If that’s the case, I have a dick you can suck in exchange for a stocked pantry.”

“Kris, Kris, Kris. Will you ever see anything in this world as something not meant to be vile or offensive?”

“Probably not.”

He places a hand on my shoulder and jokes. “Who hurt you, man?”

I’m sarcastic, my go to language. “My father, when he decided to die and allowed my mother to marry his best friend who has millions of dollars. It’s a hard life.”

“Hmm, I see.” Art pretends to write on an invisible notepad. “And are these distraught feelings brought on by wealth an effect of underlying guilt that your life improved so greatly at the passing of your birth father?”

If I had feelings about my real father’s death then maybe he’d be hitting a nail on the head, but even if it were the case, I wouldn’t open up to him of all people.

I let my tone sit as flat as a placid lake. “Yes, Art. The guilt of happiness is eating me alive.” There’s not a sprinkle of joy in my statement and I’m not known for being a person with a smile plastered on my face.

“Fine. Don’t talk about it. But I think counseling would do you some good.”

“I think arsenic would do you some good. To each their own.”

He laughs at our version of a conversation and walks away. A guy like him wouldn’t get it. He’s as likeable as Jaye and the center of attention. He should leave me to wallow in my own self-pity and chosen isolation. It’s my happy place; though ironically, I don’t appear happy at all.

After a while, there’s a knock at the door. I look around and realize no one else is rushing to answer it. In that case, it must not be a food delivery. Then why the hell is someone bothering us in the middle of the day?

I open the door to the well-dressed and evenly mannered Thad, Jaye’s boyfriend.

What, did you lose him? He was just with you.

I’m tempted to shut the door and pretend that I didn’t see him when he pleads with me.

“Can we talk?”

You want to talk to me? I doubt that. I’ve already insulted you in all the ways I could think of once today.

Hmm, maybe that’s it. He’s here for payback. This prideful son of a bitch couldn’t handle my spouting off to him earlier. Now that Jaye is away, he can tell me what he wanted to earlier but was too busy ‘playing the nice guy boyfriend’ to say at the time.

“Are you here to threaten me?” I’m dry because I really don’t give a damn what he wants and he’s wasting my time.

“No. I just want us to talk. Please?”

This fucker. Why is he here?

“Fine, you have three minutes.” If nothing else, I can try to get some dirt on him. I step out onto our porch and take a seat, having no intention of standing while dealing with this pretentious bastard.

He begins. “I know you don’t like me and that’s fine. I can tell you care about Jaye and that’s what matters. He’s a terrific guy and I care about him a lot.”

Oh, you’ve discovered that from bending him over, have you? How observant of you. You’re clearly loaded with care. How about I tell you what a dick you are so you’ll leave Jaye alone?

I counter him. “For now, until you’ve had your fill of his sweet, young piece.”

He seems offended. “Don’t talk about him like that.”

Odd that he didn’t realize I was bad mouthing him, not Jaye. Is this guy dense or what?

“I’m not talking about him. I’m talking about you! He’s nineteen you fucking pervert.” This Thad guy is probably in his thirties. It’s hard to keep my frustration in check. It’s not like this guy doesn’t realize what he’s doing.

Even keeled, he replies. “I don’t think my age bothers you as much as his choice to be with someone my age.”

My anger reaches a new height. He has no idea what he’s talking about. He doesn’t know me or Jaye.

“What the hell are you talking about? He’s too young for you. He’s got daddy issues and guys like you have used that to mold him into something he isn’t. It’s called conditioning. Look it up, asshole!”

Jaye’s father died when he was young too. We didn’t know each other at the time, but I can vouch for what it does to a person. Only his mom didn’t remarry. No one ever filled that gap for him. He’s been trying to fill it with older men and the men that have taken advantage of him are sick; just like this guy.

Still calm as can be, the shorter older man presses my buttons.

“Would it be such a bad thing for there to be an age difference if I cared for him?”

Care about him? Don’t make me laugh.

“You don’t! You flaunt your money and buy the latest young boi until another comes along that’s younger or new for you to play with. You’re all the same! He buys into it like a puppy eating out of your hand. He’ll be convinced you’re mad for him and then you move on and he tanks because of it. He’s been through a lot and he doesn’t need sons of bitches like you surfacing in his life. He’s not a fuck boi for you to game with so just leave now before you cause more damage!”

I’m irate and wish he would just listen so that Jaye doesn’t have to go through another loss like he has in the past. When Jaye hits a low, he has coping issues. He stops eating. I hate watching him do that to himself. He’s too wonderful to punish himself for men like this that don’t give a damn about anyone but themselves. Why does it have to be Jaye? He doesn’t deserve it. He deserves the world; the whole fucking world of happiness. I wish I could spare Jaye all of this. I would take it for him. I would accept the hurt that’s inevitably coming if I could. I can shoulder it. He can’t.

This asshole doesn’t give up. He also doesn’t yell or lash out at me like I am him. In fact, he’s smiling at me with an almost convincing tenderness in his expression.

Thad explains. “I can tell you’re a good friend to him. I can’t fault you for that. But I think you should consider the possibility that we’re happy together for a reason and you’d be a bad friend to stand in the way of his happiness. I don’t know jack shit about the other guys he’s dated before me. They weren’t me and I doubt they took the time that I’m taking to reach out like this. Jaye means the world to me. I’m not flaunting money; I’m trying to make him happy. I’m not trying to intimidate; I’m trying to understand. I’ve never dated a younger guy before and I hadn’t planned to. I’m asking that you don’t judge me for the actions of others and instead give me a chance to prove that I’m different.”

You wouldn’t know a bad friend if it fell from the sky and landed on your ass. If you think I’m going to eat up your words like everyone else then you’ve got another thing coming.

“You aren’t good enough for him.” He isn’t.

“That’s something we agree on.” Well, that was unexpected.

Still, I’m hurt and angry by his presence. Why does he get a chance with Jaye when I never will?  I let my detest out at the man in front of me. “I hate you.”

He grins almost knowingly. “I don’t blame you. I hated the guy dating the best friend that I had fallen in love with too.”

What?!

I shout back. “I’m not in love with him!” This pompous prick knows nothing!

Then he goes off on some tangent like he’s a poet.

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t be. Jaye’s amazing. He’s smart, outgoing, puts off a great first impression, has the most beautiful eyes that pierce through you like an arrow, a smile that makes you want to move mountains for him, a laugh that releases butterflies, a voice that clutches at your core.”

Hearing him map out the man that I love is cruel. I know those things about him. I’ve known them for a while. I hate that he sees them too. Or do I? Maybe if he’s put in that kind of notice of Jaye then he isn’t as bad as the others. Could he actually care about Jaye the way he claims? He’s not wrong that none of the others have taken the care to meet any of us or ever stopped by this house.

It’s so unfair. This man steps into Jaye’s life for the briefest of time and he’s been granted the joys of Jaye. I hate it. There’s so much more to Jaye too.

I add to his list. “Broad shoulders that carry the weight of the world because he thinks it’s his responsibility to do so.”

Jaye’s only nineteen and he behaves like a man twice his age, always caring for everyone else with complete disregard for himself. I’ve tried to be there for him and care for him, but he doesn’t acknowledge help. He’s too busy helping everyone else.

The silence and stillness of the air surrounding us is where I find a bit of tranquility with this guy. It’s not much, but next to the man that has everything I wish I could have, it’s needed.

Of course, he goes and fucks it up by opening his mouth again. “Wh … what can I do to help him?”

“Help him what?”

“Cope? I don’t know, get through whatever it is that’s he’s hiding from me.”

Every time he speaks, it’s as if he’s digging my grave just a little deeper. If it doesn’t hurt to think he’s using Jaye then it hurts to think they care for one another because it leaves me in the dark.

I take a stab back at him. “If he’s hiding something then he’s doing it for a reason. Take a hint.”

“Kris, I care for him. I want to help.”

Everything about this conversation tells me that he does. He does care and it rips me apart. I hate him. I hate that Jaye has turned to him. I hate that I’m glad for the first time that one of his sugar daddy men is finally giving him what he deserves. I hate that I hate him. I hate myself for wishing he would still leave so that I could keep at least part of Jaye to myself.

I feel my throat try to close up. It’s too much emotion to realize whatever is going on between these two might actually be real. I can’t face that. I can take on Jaye’s pain, but I can’t handle the prospect of his love.

I leave the guy with the only decent advice I’ll probably ever give him.

“Then treat him right. He isn’t a fuck boi.”

I’m angry and I’m hurt. I don’t want to see this guy anymore. I stand up and go inside, slamming the door to make a point that I’m done talking to him.

Go away.

Please, just go away.