I’m Sorry

The restaurant is vivid, with its costumers talking and the waiters managing their little sections with such ease that reminds me of my Mafia that houses only criminals of Native-American ancestry. I turn to look back James, his glorious black hair that goes in a style that only arouses me, I have the urge to have my fingers comb his beard. He is now wearing a green jacket with his tight-looking blue jeans, and typical cowboy boots, a predictable outfit a Texan like James would wear. I quickly look down, seeing that my long-sleeve shirt is hiding away my tattoos, the only description that makes me stand out of a large crowd.

“So, Marco, I really appreciate you taking me to this restaurant,” James starts, looking around with his hands fidgeting, a usual movement he does when he is nervous. “I am actually surprised that you picked this one, this restaurant is my favorite and the only person who knew that is, uh, an old friend.”

“A gut feeling’ told me” I lie, with my terrible cockney accent. “For dis friend ov yaaahrs, e’ must be a very special fee yew tee trust on, eh?”

“You could say that, but the truth is that he is more than a friend,” He replies, having a blush rising to his face and smiles dreamily. “He was actually my first boyfriend, my high school sweetheart. He had got me from committing suicide, causing a fall-out school shooting, and murdering my father. At the time, I had the thoughts of marrying him, but there was a conflict that broke us up.”

I can feel some of the heat to go to my face, I do not expect James to suddenly say that he wants to marry me. I though I was the one to think things that are beyond our relationship, not to mention to be perverted enough to make James blush for a month. It is true that I had done all the things that James had listed, but the conflict is something that I may never get to convince him about.

I decide to test James’s trust on my disguise by saying, “What was da conflict about, if yew wan’ tea tell me.”

He sighs only, to look at the windows and then turn back to me with a sad smile, “My older brother Joseph, he was a drug-dealer for a long time and had hidden his secret career from my parents. From what I have seen from the photos, I saw my Issac’s baseball bat broken and Joseph’s eyes were bleeding. I knew immediately that it must be Issac, because I can recognize that baseball bat anywhere.”

“Did yew confron’ ter Issac?”

“Of course! He started to deny that he never did anything like that, and I didn’t believe him. Our arguments got so bad that we both broke up sadly, and now I have learned that actually it was Issac’s father. I still feel so bad for accusing and I-I slapped him for thinking that he is lying to me. The only wish I have is that I want to say sorry to him, but from what I’ve heard Issac left and became some leader in a gang. I still blame myself for what happened, if only I didn’t jump to conclusions. At least I got to learn about relationships, since I am one with a woman.”

Our meals come in: James has a chicken Cesar salad while I have a large steak in addition to a chocolate chip cookie cake with ice cream on top for dessert. The two of us eat in silence, I can’t help but believe that for seven years, we’ve been trying to avoid each other. I thought that James still doesn’t believe that I am innocent, even though I had my fair share of violence and using my childhood weapon to wack any boys who would break my James’s heart and he still didn’t think I would control my thirst for blood. For James and I, it’s true that we were a high school couple and one of the very few homosexual couples that are made known to our high school. I used to do archery and baseball while James spends his time on agriculture that eventually leads him to work in welding, now getting paid very well. From thinking too deeply about what happened to the past, James finished his salad and is now working on the dessert while making a smile on his face.

“You know, this was the last dessert Issac and I had before we broke up,” He says, with his smile slowly fades away like smoke raising to the air. “I eat the cookie while Issac eats the ice cream since I didn’t like the vanilla.”

I nod, finding it true since my mouth is drooling now by the the soft circular scoops of vanilla goodness that is slowly melting to mix with the melted chocolate chips.

James must have noticed my hunger for the ice cream because eventually he offers me to finish off the ice cream, I nod and taste the sweet cool vanilla liquid that sends back the good memories, the times where James and I were kiss after eating the dessert, but I can’t let James know it’s me. James may want to apologize and possibly want to come back, but I won’t have James learn about what I do to people, unpleasant acts that is enough to convince James that I am not the perfect person. Yet, this sweet liquid would be the first to maybe have James to do more than eating his meals and telling me his past.

***********

I falls on the coach, with my air escapes as Issac has his lips travel on my neck that sends my cockney accent to sing his name. He has his shirt taken off, revealing his hairy yet muscular-like chest that rivals my own body structure. That didn’t stop the two of us to kiss, I didn’t expect this to happen, all we did is come to James’s rural house and talk some more that results in the two of us making out in his master bedroom. James is sitting on my chest, with a smudgy smile as if he wants more than kissing. Heat raises to my face, I know what he wants, but I don’t want it to go down like that.

“James, what are you doing?” A female voice screams, leaving James and I confused to the doorway where there is a blond woman with her purse dropped to the floor because her hands are covering her face. She dashes away, leaving the two of us or rather me alone because James gets off of me and chases after her. I realize that in James had mention very subtly that he had a girlfriend back at the restaurant, well he won’t have a girlfriend anymore. In a matter of seconds, the woman scream that sounds like fear that I jumps off the bed and dash for the origin of the sound. Wind pushes my hair far, with the sudden heavy feeling that something bad happened, and it turns out to be true.

James is lying on the ground with red liquid coming out his body, I realize that it is blood by the strong copper smell that pinches my nose. I fell to my knees, the girl may left to call for the police but I didn’t mind because I can’t believe what happened. I look over to see that there is a deep laceration on his neck, I recognize that mark anywhere that must be from- no it can’t be. I look around to find none of my gang members visible, then I pull James up and have his head to my chest. The heavy feeling has now cause my eyes to moist and pour down tears that fall on James’s beautiful face. I had thought that James would find out who I am now by accident, it’s too late with my James dying in my arms without a way to bring him back.

“James, it’s me Issac,” I whisper, leaving a soft kiss on his lips and have a hard time to not choke from the husk of emotions that is residing in my throat. “I have disguised myself as Marco because I didn’t think you would like me after all what happened. I forgive you James, just please, come back to me, please James. I’m nothing without you.”

James said nothing, his life-losing eyes stares at my soul, as if he is hearing me but is leaving me alone. I have his body next to me, having all the past to come back and comfort me with the good moments I had with my past lover, now dying in my arms to leave me as the shell as I’ve always been.

********

My hands become warm by the shedding blood, each piece of my heart ripped and falling to the infinite darkness. James’s beautiful eyes stare at my soul as if accusing me of all I do, including of fooling him to think I am someone rather than myself.

“Issac McLaurin, is that really you?”

I jerk my head up, to find what I see shocking: a blond average-sized woman has her purse on her shoulders, standing before me with her wide leafy green eyes. Her face sparks a memory within my brain, all the memories I had thought I would forget from the sands of time. This woman, I know her, she is the sibling of three girls who are the daughters of a Methodist pastor where I used to go church. I had encountered the woman’s oldest sister, who tried to flirt me and later on stopped when she finds out I was with James.

“Tasha Lupus,” I breathe, my breaths wheezing by the husky of emotions. “I can’t believe it, is that really you? How did you get here?”

She looks at me with a raised eyebrow, “I came here to ask James for the cake pan he had been using, that cake pan is mine and I am needing it for a surprise.” She glares down at my arms and gasps with her hands to her mouth. “Wait, Issac, is that blood? Wait, what did you do to James!”

I shake my head to prove to deny what she is thinking that I am the cause of this, “I don’t know, I heard Issac scream and then saw him on the ground with blood coming out of him. I am pretty sure he is dead, and worse his girlfriend is probably calling the police.”

Tasha says nothing at all, then she drops to her knees and spread her arms out as if she universally asking me for James. I shake my head, having his head close to my heart, I know Lupus is a good-hearted woman from what I’ve seen from her, but I am not letting her take away my James if she is with them. Tasha insists but then ignores me by having her hands on James’s forehead and whisper in an intelligible accent and language that I can’t seem to decipher. I stare at her in disbelief, what she is doing is something I don’t see that Tasha in a nun’s outfit.

Tasha pulls back and stands back up with a smile on her face as if what she did is good. I almost spring to my feet and demand what she is doing and why she isn’t calling the police like James’s girlfriend was doing, but I see that the blood starts to disappear like spilled water to a hot sidewalk. I look at the wound, where a metal piece comes out of the wound like an eruption and dissolves to sand. My jaw drops as I view James’s eyes closing and opening again as if he had just fainted or waking up. His eyes direct to me and a whisper comes out of him like a groan, “Marco… Is this Heaven?”

I shake my head with a sudden sensation of tears welling up in my tears, “No, my name isn’t Marco, and it’s your house.”

I remove the shirt, to reveal my buffalo tattoos that are all over my arms and chest. James jumps from my lap and stands with a shocked face all over his face.

“No, that’s impossible,” James mutters to himself and looks at me with an uncertain expression, “Issac, is that really you?”

Tasha replies behind him, “Yes James, it is and you need to give me back my cake pan please.”

Her reply surprises James that he springs and exclaims how Tasha got there. She reassures that she came over to get the cake pan, and mentions that there was a girl who ran out of the house with tears as if something bad or sad had happened. She tries to talk to the girl to know what happened, but the girl refuses to speak and runs away that leaves Tasha to come inside the house.

“Well, either way, I can’t believe you used that on me, Tasha,” James said, hugging his arms and switching his glances from her to me. “It’s just that, I had told Issac that I wanted to tell him, and now he knows my plans. Still, I am glad you have healed me, it means a lot. If there is anything you want, just say the word.”

Tasha smiles and has her hand on James’s shoulder and she simply says, “It would be very nice if you can finally give me back my cake pan.”

James gives her what she asks, she smiles and said that she is happy to see us. Before she left the doorframe, she said that she glad the two of us are together and if we were to get married she would love to be the maid of honor. Before any of us start to take the news not lightly, she leaves with the cake pan in her hand to leave the two of us alone.

He looks back at me, looks to the ground with his hands starting to fidget around again. Then he sits down and takes a deep breath, I sit by him and he, without warning, hugs me with a sob escaping from him. I pull back, didn’t expecting the hug, then I embrace him, feeling the warmth of my heart starting to rise to my face that I use my hand to move his face close to mine. Then I kiss him, feeling the heat to grow even more than before, my heart beats to the beat of drumrolls that I start on his neck. James groans my name like a song, the beginning of our coming back together and the beginning of our re-sparked love.