A Husband's Reckoning (The Brent Trilogy 2)

Chapter 19

We sat around the table. Marcus took out the food and put it in front of me. Eggs, sausage and hash-browns. My stomach growled again. We started eating, not saying anything. This is why I liked Marcus. He was always there, but he never talked. He just let things be. He didn't rush them and didn't pry. Brent didn't know a lot of people who would be like Marcus was, and he was openly proud gay man who lived his life in peace and without all the melodrama that Brent had made out of his own life.

"I'm gay, Marcus," I said, after I swallowed my food.

He didn't say anything. Just nodded with his head, but he didn't seem surprised. I frowned. "You don't seem surprised," I noted.

"I had a hunch," he said. "But I don't like to pry. To each their own."

"I was recorded being a sandwich between two guys younger than me," I continued. "And someone sent that to my wife last night. She kicked me out."

"Damn," said Marcus, and for the first time since I knew him he showed pure emotion on his face – and I could tell that he didn't pity me, but he could emphasize with the situation I was in, and in that moment I respected him more than anyone in my life. He didn't pity me, because I didn't deserve to be pitied. But the way the situation had went down was beyond fucked up. "That's really harsh, Brent. I'm sorry that happened to you."

And suddenly, I couldn't stop myself. I started bawling. Marcus got up and wrapped his hands around me. All I needed at that moment was someone to hold me so I don't fall apart because I was barely holding on as it was. I cried and cried and cried, and Marcus just held me, and kissed the top of my head as I held onto his shoulders on the couch where I slept the night before.

I don't know how long I cried, but after I was done, I didn't necessarily feel better, but lighter. I straightened up, and I looked at Marcus' blue t-shirt that was damp from my tears. "I'm sorry about this, man," I said, a little embarrassed.

"Don't worry," said Marcus. "You needed it. I'm not judging you. You're going through a lot. And, needless to say, you can stay here as long as you want."

"Thanks," I told him. "I appreciate this a lot."

"No problem, man," he said again. "I tried to kill myself a few years back, and if it wasn't for my friend, Ian, I probably wouldn't be here today. He listened and was just there for me when I needed someone the most. It is time for me to pay forward the kindness that he showed me when I was at my lowest."

Suddenly, I wanted to cry, but I had to get some things resolved. First, I drove to the clinic downtown to get tested for STIs. I didn't have any symptoms, but my behavior in the past year and a half has been reckless, and I wanted to be sure that there was nothing to worry about.

After I was done at the clinic, they said that they will call me back with the results in twenty-four to forty-eight hours. I got in my car and I drove straight to Lance's place with the CD that was delivered to Whitney the day before. I rang the doorbell.

A few minutes later, Lance opened the door, shirtless and sweaty, panting like he had been running. "Brent," he said, taken aback like I was the last person he had expected to see at his door. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, Lance, can I please come inside?" I asked him.

"Um, now's actually not that good of a time," he said. Then it dawned on me: he was having someone over for sex. But this was important.

"I understand," I said, my jaw clenched. "But I need to ask you about this CD."

I pulled the CD from behind my back, and I showed it to him. He looked at it as if he had never seen a CD in his life before.

"What is this CD?" he asked. "Did you make me a mixtape or something?"

What? "No," I said. "It's a sex tape. A sex tape of you, me and Josh that one night here at your place. Don't pretend."

Lance's face went pale, and he grabbed the CD from my hand and looked at it. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't pretend like you didn't record us, Lance," I said, getting angry at the confused dumb look on his face. "No one else could've."

"I'm not saying I didn't," he said. "But I've never put it on a CD. I kept it on my computer in my room. The same computer I used to record us when we fucked. That's what I wanted to show you that one time when we hooked up in the basement."

"Then, who...?"

"Lance, are you coming back any time soon?"

I looked over Lance's shoulder. It was Josh, and he was only wearing a jockstrap. When he saw me, his face went white. And then it all made sense to me.

"YOU!" I pushed pass Lance, and I started after Josh. He tried to run, but he couldn't escape my rage. "Why? Why did you do that? Why did you destroy my family like that?"

I tackled him, while Lance was running after me, trying to calm me down. I hit Josh once, but then Lance jumped on my back, and he pulled me off of him. "Brent, don't! You will regret it if you don't stop now, man! Pull yourself together."

I was panting and trying to get to Josh, who was still on the floor, sliding backwards in the kitchen, looking terrified, but somehow still defiant and triumphant. Like he wanted all of this to happen on purpose.

When Lance saw that I wasn't struggling anymore, he let go of my arms and he looked at Josh. "Did you burn this CD?" he asked him. "Off of my computer?"

"No," he said. "I just copied it on my flash-drive and I burned it at home."

Lance went even paler in the face. "I showed you that in confidence, Josh," he said. "No one, but you and Brent were supposed to know about this video. It was made for personal enjoyment."

"He shared it with my wife," I said, spitting the words out like venom. "He shared it with Whitney."

"No!" said Lance, and he got up, completely letting go of me. Josh got up as well, shivering. "Josh, please tell me you didn't."

Josh wasn't talking. I wanted to go after him again, to hurt him, but Lance was right – I needed to compose myself.

"Josh..."

"I had to, alright?!" Josh screamed all of the sudden. "I had to! I don't understand what you all see in this guy." He pointed at me, and I could see his eyes welling up with angry tears. "He's not even that good in bed! But y'all lick the ground that he walks on. You like him more than me, Lance. And George broke my heart because of him! I had to hurt him, and I knew what would hurt him the best! So I hit him where it hurts the most!"

"You bastard!" I screamed, and I was satisfied that he flinched when I did so. He was afraid of me. "You will regret this one day. I don't know how, but things like this don't go unpunished."

I turned around and headed towards the door. Lance, who was still shocked, came after me. "Brent, are you sure you're alright? You have to know I had nothing to do with this," he said.

"I could still sue you Lance," I said, trying to hurt him as much as I was hurting. "You recorded me without my permission."

"Brent, I never meant this to come out. How do you think I feel? You gotta believe me that I had nothing to do with what Josh did."

"I know you didn't have anything to do with that," I said. "I know you. You don't have a cruel soul. But you aren't blameless in this."

"I'm sorry," said Lance, and he clenched his jaw as if trying to stop himself from crying. "I truly am. Where are you going to go now?"

"That's none of your business anymore, Lance," I said. "Goodbye now, and choose your friends more carefully."

"Brent," Lance shouted as I walked towards the car. "Don't be like that! Brent, come let's talk. Josh will be going home now, I promise you. My house is always open to you."

But I just drove away, not looking back once.