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Jeremy had tried to stop counting the days. Tick, tick, tick, the clock turned into the calendar; minutes turned to hours to days to weeks to months. He’d watch each sunrise turn into sunset, sitting by the door, hoping for a knock that was accompanied by a small ‘Jere?’ in a Marseillais lilt. He hoped for the insignificant ruffle of the brown paper bag Jean brought back from the bakery around the corner. Jeremy sinks further into the floor, clutching the expensive bottle of vodka Kevin and Aaron had gifted them at their housewarming. Their house. It hadn’t been that for a while.
Late practices turned into Jean not returning home, making Jeremy wake up each day to find the bed cold. He pretended like the tears stinging his eyes didn’t exist, and got around to making his breakfast smoothies, always pouring an extra glass, knowing that he was going to throw it away before he inevitably fell asleep in wait. It was maddening. They were in the same city, same house, but it was like they were across the globe. When Jean did come home, it felt like Jeremy was listening to him through a wall of water, climbing up his lungs and throat, suffocating. He never stayed long, excusing himself for practices with the team he was coaching. Jeremy, a pro player at this point in his career, didn’t seem to practice nearly as much as the college students Jean was coaching.
Jeremy felt stupid every time he called Jean, expecting an answer, just to be sent to voicemail for the fourth time in a row. He had thrown his phone across the room then, the thing shattering on impact, leaving a dent in the wall. The remnants of the phone lay on the floor for the next three days, mysteriously gone after Aaron had visited him randomly one night. There was a white box on the island instead, waiting to be opened. Jeremy had hesitated, fingers skirting the shrink-wrapped plastic. He breathed in hard and long, ripping the plastic open, letting it drop to the floor. He had sat with the phone still turned off, waiting for the thing to ring. It didn’t, and he had slumped onto the floor, eyes fluttering closed.
* * * * *
Jeremy thought he had started to make his peace with Jean’s absence. He had stopped leaving an extra glass out. He’d thrown out Jean’s old shampoo, and put his clothes in a bag. He had stashed his exy memorabilia in a box, shoving it in the loft. All that remained as a painful remainder was Jeremy himself, a tiny spark of hope still flitting about in his ribcage.
He’d stripped the sheets, tossing them into trashbags and leaving them out on the curb. He’d gone out and bought new ones, coincidentally brown. He halted for a second, feeling the familiar ache in his chest. He hadn’t lived alone like this in forever. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He called Aaron, who promised him he would be there as soon as his shift at the hospital was over. Jeremy managed to power through the mundane, putting the laundry away and tackling dishes. He even vacuumed the living room, plonking himself onto the couch after he was done.
He must’ve fallen asleep, because Aaron was sitting next to him when he opened his eyes.
‘Any plans?’ The blond asked.
‘As if.’ Jeremy rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.
‘Get ready then. I’m taking you out.’ And that was final. Jeremy dragged himself to his closet, changing into a navy sweater that he knew wasn’t his own. It was one of the few pieces of clothing that he let himself keep. It wasn’t like it smelled like him anymore. It had stopped smelling like him months ago. Jeremy would throw it away later (He wouldn’t. He couldn’t possibly get himself to.).
Jeremy and Aaron walked hand-in-hand, waiting for the next train. Neither of them planned to remain sober enough to think, let alone drive safely. Their conversation was mostly idle, both of them making up stories about the people on the subway. A man dressed in a coffee-drenched button-up was a businessman who’d just lost the biggest sale of his life, after which he got his boiling order of an americano upended on his front. Another woman was just leaving her ex-girlfriend’s house for the final time, fingers lingering on the necklace dangling down to her collarbone. Jeremy saw himself in her. Finally, there was a man their age with his back turned to them. He was an actor, researching his next role. Jeremy’s heart leapt out of his mouth when the man turned. His eyes were what he noticed first. Grey-silver and stormy. Just like Jean’s. The gasp that left Jeremy’s mouth was completely involuntary.
‘What?’ Aaron looked in the man’s direction, just as Jeremy was. ‘What’s going on, Jere?’
‘Nothing. Nothing. I’m kinda hungry.’ Jeremy tore his gaze away from the man, shaking his head. Dwelling on the past wasn’t doing him any good. Especially when the past wished to remain just that.
‘Okay. Hold on just a bit longer.’ Aaron didn’t seem convinced. Jeremy cursed at him internally. The man was too perceptive for his own good.
With half a bottle of vodka down between them, Jeremy wouldn’t stop talking. Words kept tumbling out of his mouth. Words he didn’t know that he was holding onto all this while. Most of the sentences that were forming into the atmosphere of the bar were about Jean; his hair, his eyes, his everything. Aaron nodded his head occasionally, pouring himself another shot as the conversation stretched longer.
‘I miss him, Aaron.’ Aaron sighed.
‘I know, Jere. You haven’t shut up about that fact.’
‘What if I’ll never recover?’
‘Then I’m always going to be here with a bottle of whatever the bartender wants to get off the shelf.’ Jeremy felt himself smile, eyes narrowing as his vision pinpointed onto Aaron.
‘I was thinking.’
‘Mm, that never ends well.’ Aaron laughs, as does Jeremy.
‘I’ll move. If I don’t get over him, I’ll move. Start fresh, in a town where no one knows me.’
‘Jeremy, you realise your face is plastered across billboards in the country right? There isn’t a place in the world where people don’t know you.’ Jeremy dropped his chin into his palm, sighing.
‘I hear Saskatchewan is nice this time of year.’ Aaron snorts in mirthless laughter.
‘He must’ve really done a number on you for you to willingly want to move to Buttfuck, Canada.’
‘I’m not kidding, Aaron. Exy career forsaken, I’ll fucking move.’
Aaron’s expression neutralised, finally understanding that Jeremy was serious about this.
‘Jere, you’re drunk. You’re not thinking properly.’ If Jeremy hadn’t known Aaron as well as he did, he wouldn’t have realised that this was almost a plea to stay.
‘Four months, Aaron. That’s all I’ll stay here for. I’ll start packing my apartment up soon.’
‘Jeremy–’ Jeremy shook his head, cutting off anything Aaron had to add. ‘Jeremy, please. You can live with us. Kevin would love having you around. It would save you both time to reach the court.’
‘I can’t ask that of you.’
‘You’re not asking. I’m insisting. Heavily insisting.’ Aaron had held onto Jeremy’s hand, like it was the only thing anchoring him to the room.
‘I’m sorry.’ Aaron nodded, solemn.
‘Four months, right? You’ll forget he even existed. I promise.’
* * * * *
Aaron was doing a shit job at keeping his promise. One month in, and Jeremy had missed Jean more than ever. Sometimes, when he sat in the foyer next to the door, he thought he heard the familiar scuff of Jean’s shoes shuffling around outside, as if looking around for the spare key. There wasn’t a spare anymore. Jeremy had tucked it away in a pocket of Jean’s denims which he’d put in a bag. He’d listen still, as the ghost of Jean lingered outside, the noise distancing itself from Jeremy.
He’d let his coach know of his plan too. The man wasn’t happy to say the least, but he knew that trying to change Jeremy’s mind was futile. He would do what he knew he needed to, no matter what. Kevin was much less supportive of the move than his husband was, trying to say things to Jeremy that frankly felt like he was trying to talk the man off a ledge. Where Aaron had made his peace and was quietly fighting for Jeremy to stay, Kevin was the opposite. Jeremy had to pretend like he didn’t see the angry glances Kevin spared him when he wasn’t looking. He had to hide the fact that he didn’t notice Kevin trying to get him a pay raise, or better sponsorships just so he could stay. Money couldn’t make him stay anymore.
‘Jeremy, dinner tonight? Aaron’s not on the clock today.’ Kevin stared at him expectantly, like an eager puppy, something so bizarre for a man his stature.
‘Sure. I’ll drive.’ Kevin nodded.
‘I’ll wait outside.’
The drive to Kevin and Aaron’s place was silent. The radio played pop hits that Jeremy knew by heart but couldn’t find it in himself to sing along. Kevin’s phone chimed once or twice, and he replied to the notifications lightning quick. Just as Jeremy pulled into their driveway, Kevin held on to his wrist.
‘Aaron’s got a friend from the hospital over. You don’t mind, right?’ Jeremy knew where this was heading. Aaron had mentioned a friend (who happened to just be Jeremy’s type) in passing many times before, clearly intentioning to get them together. Jeremy had always refused, as he would have today if he knew.
‘No, I don’t.’ Jeremy wanted to sigh, but the ecstatic look on Kevin’s face made him change his mind.
‘Great! You’ll have an amazing time, promise.’ Jeremy was practically pulled out of the driver’s side and into their house.
* * * * *
Kevin and Aaron were terrible at keeping their word. It had been only fifteen minutes and Jeremy was itching to get out the door. Sure, Aaron’s friend was nice and all, but Jeremy wished he was anywhere but here.
‘Jeremy, will you help me with the dinner in the kitchen, please?’ Jeremy groaned into his glass.
‘Aaron, you have a perfectly muscular husband waiting to help you.’ Kevin grinned.
‘He’s a big boy, he’ll get over it.’ Jeremy kept his glass on the coaster on the end table. He felt Aaron’s friend tracking his movements, even as he rounded the corner to the kitchen.
‘What is it that you need me for instead of Kevin?’ Aaron fixed him with a flat look.
‘You look like you’re going to bite that poor guy’s head off.’
‘Yeah, well, what did you expect? I don’t even know his name, let alone anything about him. All he had to do was google me.’ Aaron scoffed.
‘Always so humble, huh?’
‘Bite me.’ Jeremy grumbled.
‘I’ll leave that to Daniel.’ Aaron winked, pushing Jeremy out the kitchen. ‘Looks like I need you after all, Kevin!’ Jeremy shook his head, smiling at the blond’s antics. He would miss him.
After loitering in the foyer a little longer, Jeremy cleared his throat and walked up to Daniel.
‘So, Aaron told me you work with him, but not what you do?’ Jeremy could just imagine slamming his own head into the coffee table just so he could go home.
‘I’m a trauma surgeon.’
‘Good with your hands. Hmm.’ Daniel grinned at the comment. ‘But where do trauma surgeons and paediatric surgeons even cross over? Aren’t they, like, two different things?’
‘Oh you know, we worked some cases last year involving a bus crash. They were running short on surgeons. I volunteered. Rest is history.’ Daniel shrugged, as if his admission of being a hero to so many parents and children was a thing to be brushed off. ‘What about you?’
‘Me? I’ve always been playin’. Practically came out the womb with an exy racket in my hand.’ Daniel cocked his head to the side, surveying Jeremy.
‘I’ve seen you on TV a few times. Every time you’re playing a game, Aaron has it on.’ Jeremy smiled, mostly to himself. ‘From what I’ve seen, you’re quite good.’ Daniel’s hand is resting on Jeremy’s elbow. Jeremy stares at it for a second before regaining himself.
‘Thanks. I– uh, I try.’ Jeremy wasn’t accustomed to nervous laughter. It tasted foreign in his mouth, much like this conversation.
‘How long have you been playing?’ Jeremy found the question slightly stupid, because his previous statements implied that he’d been playing for a long time.
‘Lost count after a decade.’ Jeremy picked his glass up, sipping the sparkling cider Kevin had poured for him with a stern look on his face.
‘Maybe you could show me all those trophies of yours?’ It wasn’t inherently sexual, but the connotation hung thickly in the air.
‘If you’re free after this, I wouldn’t mind.’ Jeremy didn’t know why he was doing this. Somewhere, he figured it was to please Aaron, but he also desperately wanted to stay. Even if it took a string of one-night stands like it was his junior year in USC, he would stay.
‘I’m sure that can be arranged.’ They’d gone home, but Jeremy couldn’t stop himself from letting Jean’s name tumble out of his mouth multiple times during the night. It was no wonder that Daniel didn’t text or call the next morning.
* * * * *
Jeremy wasn’t exactly sure where he was. The last he remembered, he was sitting on a barstool moping about the fact that he had two months to go and he hadn’t made any progress whatsoever. Daniel didn’t help. Neither did the nameless men he’d called Jean by accident. He wasn’t sure how he planned to go about getting over him, but this wasn’t it. He’d pounded back a few shots, loosened up and found another poor guy to torment. He knew he was famous, and he also knew that there wasn’t a shortage of men waiting to sleep with him. He’d have to be careful now, because news spreads fast in a place like California. One ill-timed photograph could cause a PR blunder.
Jeremy couldn’t find it in himself to fully care, though. He had been telling himself that it was a matter of two months before he was out of here. New place, new start, new everything. It wouldn’t matter so much then. Who the fuck in Saskatchewan cares about who the fuck Jeremy Knox is?
Right now, he could feel the low thrum of the bass through the floor which made his teeth chatter in his skull. He was dancing, maybe. Or maybe he was just standing. He couldn’t really tell. What he could tell though was a pair of hands resting on either side of his waist, pulling him closer. Jeremy turned around, only to be disappointed. Obviously, it wouldn’t be Jean, but still, he hoped it would be.
‘Feel like dancin’?’ This guy’s voice was low and smooth, but nothing beat Jean’s. Especially when Jeremy was laying beside him early in the morning.
‘Sure. I’m not staying long though.’ The man smirked, pulling Jeremy closer. Jeremy was almost level with him, practically encroaching the guy’s personal space.
‘You look familiar.’ The guy leaned in. Jeremy could smell his cologne. He reeled back from him, pushing through hoards of people in a desperate attempt to find the exit. When he found it, he left, Aaron’s number already dialed. He could hear Aaron’s muffled voice from the other end of the line calling his name over and over.
‘Can you get me?’ He could hear the clinking of Aaron’s keys against the glass bowl it was kept in.
‘Where are you?’
‘Some fuckin’ bar.’ Jeremy sighed. ‘This was such a bad idea, Aaron.’
‘What was?’ Aaron was already in his car, judging by the soft revving coming from his side.
‘Coming here. Drinking. Fuck.’ Jeremy leaned against a wall, sliding down until he was sitting on the dirty concrete. ‘I can’t do this anymore. Maybe I should just move tomorrow.’
‘Let’s not get hasty. I’m driving around but I need landmarks, Jere. What can you see?’ Jeremy lifted his gaze up to look around. It wasn’t too familiar, but still he described it as best as he could. Aaron told him to stay on, saying that it would be easy to navigate if Jeremy saw him first. Jeremy knew the real reason: don’t let him do anything he regretted the next morning.
‘I’m turning the corner. Look around if you can see me.’ Jeremy nodded, slowly coming to the realisation that Aaron couldn’t actually see him through the phone. Regardless, he stood up, twisting his neck this way and that just to find the familiar plates of Aaron’s car. Aaron saw him too; he heard the blond’s relieved exhale escape his mouth through the phone. Jeremy didn’t fully register the slamming of car doors and the fact that he was now sitting in the passenger seat.
‘What happened in there? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’ Aaron’s hand was resting on the junction of Jeremy’s jaw and neck, his fingers curling into his hair.
‘I don’t know. I was dancing… I smelt him. It’s so fucking stupid. Who loses their shit after smelling their ex on someone else?’ Aaron said nothing, instead choosing to take Jeremy’s hand in his, squeezing. ‘I can’t– I can’t deal with it anymore.’
‘You promised me these 4 months, Jere. You promised,’ The sadness in Aaron’s eyes was enough to shut him up.
* * * * *
One month left, and Jeremy’s apartment was unbearably empty. The only thing that was left behind was the furniture that he was giving away to the thrift. His mattress was on the floor in the corner of the room, his nightstand a U-Haul box with his shit on top of it. There were boxes in each room– painful reminders that his life was so easy to uproot. Kevin had come by, offering to help pack the kitchen up. He’d taken the help, more so for the company than anything else. Kevin was great to talk to, especially since he kept up with all the gossip that went around in the team that Jeremy himself wasn’t aware of as vice captain.
They spent the afternoon walking around each other, the conversation flowing naturally. They stopped for a takeout lunch, and sat down on the floor of the kitchen. Jeremy had started to feel the fact that he was leaving. It was too late to turn his decision over. In a month’s time he would be in Fuckass, Canada, starting anew. Sure, he had hoped for it, but he didn’t actually believe it would materialise.
‘Will you miss me?’ Jeremy asked as they both wrapped plates in bubble wrap. Kevin’s hands stilled, head shooting up to face Jeremy. He set the half-wrapped plate down, grabbing the counter.
‘I’d come with you if Aaron’s and I’s whole life wasn’t here.’ Jeremy felt himself frown. ‘We both would, in a heartbeat.’
‘I would.’ Kevin cocked his head to the side in confusion. ‘Miss you, I mean. Both of you. I think I’ve already started to.’
‘You could always stay, you know.’ Kevin bumped Jeremy’s hip with his own. Jeremy smiled down at his hands.
‘What’s the fun in that?’ They stayed silent after, passing around bubble-wrapped plates to put into their respective cartons.
By the time they’d taped up the last of the kitchen boxes, it was almost time for Aaron to come home. Jeremy had told Kevin to call him over, and to get them each some Chinese. Kevin and him were sitting on the floor, backs against the wall, knees drawn to their chest. Jeremy hadn’t ever felt this small in his own home before. Now, though, he felt like he was a speck of dust floating about.
‘Jere?’ Kevin’s voice broke the silence.
‘Yeah?’ Jeremy turned to Kevin, who took his hand. It was foreign to him; Kevin wasn’t affectionate like this unless it was towards his husband.
‘You know that Aaron and I will drop everything to help you, right?’ Jeremy nodded. ‘And I mean everything. Our house is always open to you. Will be forever.’
‘I know,’ Jeremy said, sadly. ‘I know.’ More so to himself than Kevin.
* * *
Jeremy and Kevin had almost dialed Aaron’s number, until they heard the door creak open. Jeremy could see an invisible knot in Kevin’s chest loosen, as he practically bounded across the room and into the hallway. Jeremy heard them kiss, something that he couldn’t entirely classify as PG-13.
‘Jesus, Kev, I went to the restaurant, not fuckin’ Vietnam.’ Jeremy smiled to himself. Aaron shuffled his shoes off, entering the living room. He winked at Jeremy, plopping down beside him. Jeremy wrapped an arm around the blond’s shoulder.
‘What took you so long? And why didn’t you call?’ Kevin followed Aaron’s path, choosing to put down the plastic bags of the Chinese restaurant they often ate from in front of the pair.
‘I was talking to someone. I forgot.’ Aaron shrugged, but Kevin’s mouth pursed into a line.
‘You could’ve at least texted.’
‘Don’t pout, Kevin. You’re a grown fuckin’ man. And it’s not like I wouldn’t be able to handle it if something happened.’ Kevin fixed him with a flat look.
‘Pardon me for wanting to know if my husband was safe.’ Jeremy felt like he should intervene.
‘Who were you talking to, Aaron?’ Jeremy said, just as Aaron opened his mouth to speak again.
‘You really want to know?’ Jeremy nodded. Kevin was removing box after box from the bag, placing them on the floor. ‘Daniel.’
‘Oh! How…uh, how is he?’ Jeremy suddenly felt uncomfortable with the conversation.
‘He’s great. He was telling me about his new boyfriend. Met online and hit it off.’ Jeremy nodded.
‘Boyfriend, huh?’ Aaron nodded, looking up at him.
‘Yeah, isn’t that crazy? It’s revolutionary how easy dating’s become. Click a few buttons and you’ve got a boyfriend.’
‘Mhm.’ Jeremy nodded along. ‘And this impromptu dinner doesn’t happen to be a dating crisis intervention, does it?’ Jeremy watched Kevin and Aaron exchange a look. ‘Fuck you both.’
‘Sorry, we’re committed.’ Kevin said cheekily.
‘Kevin, you’re not funny.’ Jeremy balled up a napkin and launched it at Kevin, watching it bounce off his forehead.
‘I love you, baby, but he’s right.’
‘Et tu, the love of my life?’ Kevin clutched at his chest. Aaron rolled his eyes.
‘Your heart’s on the other side, smartass.’ Kevin winked.
‘I’ll show you the real smartass later tonight.’ Jeremy gagged and pulled a face at them.
‘I would prefer my dinner free of fucking, thanks.’ Both of them burst out laughing.
‘You’re always welcome to watch, you know.’ Aaron waggled his eyebrows in such a strange manner, that Jeremy couldn’t help but cringe.
‘It pains me to decline this offer. Jeez, I preferred you both like five minutes ago when you were fighting.’
‘That wasn’t fighting.’ Jeremy saw the look that passed between both of them.
‘Get the fuck out of my house, you sick freaks.’
* * * * *
Jeremy’s house was only this empty when he’d first bought it. By now, even the mattress on the floor was gone, sold to some buyer that had contacted him for it. His air mattress was inflating in its absence, but he had a feeling that he was going to find himself in the doorway again today. Kevin and Aaron came by early this morning, and promised to drive Jeremy to the airport. When they had turned to leave, Jeremy couldn’t help but let out a few sobs. Their faces were hung too, but neither of them was as broken up about the situation like he was.
‘We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?’ Aaron asked and Jeremy nodded. Aaron pressed a kiss to his face and then to his hands. Kevin hugged him, and surprisingly, Jeremy was the first to let go.
‘We love you. I love you.’ Jeremy cried harder. He didn’t stop until their car was out of his driveway and onto the street.
Jeremy was in a perpetual state of sadness the whole day. He found himself sprawled onto the uncomfortable mattress, feeling the air seeping out from under him. Come evening, he was sure he would be laying on the floor. Jeremy didn’t really do anything the whole day. The movers had taken care of everything. Aaron said he’d put the house on the market when Kevin and him got the time. Jeremy had found a coaching gig about an hour or so away from where he was living. They didn’t even bother with an interview, and had told Jeremy he was hired on the spot.
Jeremy contemplated going out for a little bit– maybe meet his team for the last time, or say his goodbyes to his other friends here. He decided against it, choosing to stay rooted on the leaking mattress, earbuds plugged in and the volume high.
Hours had blended together, and Jeremy pushed his hunger down, and brought himself to drink a glass of water. He opened a few drawers, hoping to find even a little bit of the stash of shooters he’d hidden around the place. He found a few bottles, downing them in quick succession, wiping his mouth when he was done. He didn’t really feel a buzz, considering his body was used to exorbitant amounts more than what he just drank.
He changed the song he was listening to, and went around the house to turn the lights off. He had an early start the next day, and he would hope for some kind of rest, even if it was disturbed to all Hell. He had aimed to reach his mattress, but somehow, he was sitting facing his front door again. The only semblance of light in the room was coming from his phone as he waved it around to look around his dark house. The thought of the house that was once full of so much love and laughter turning into a cold, abandoned shell of itself was poetic. It was exactly how Jeremy felt about himself.
Jeremy’s heart panged in chest as he remembered the feeling of Jean’s arms around him, and the sound of his laughter in his ears. Jeremy had touched his face, tracing the lines of his smile, feeling the cushion of his lips under his fingers. He could practically feel the warmth radiating off Jean onto his back as he rested his head against the wall. The tears threatening to spill pricked his eyes, but he let them fall. He let them fall for one last time. Once they started to fall, they didn’t seem to stop, and soon the house was full of choked sobs and half-hearted breaths.
Jeremy didn’t realise when he’d fallen asleep, but his face was still damp, his breath smelled like a mix of Fireball and vodka, and he wasn’t sure if the banging was in his head or on the door. He detangled his earbuds that managed to end up partially in his hair, and threw them aside. He didn’t know whether he grossly overslept, but Aaron and Kevin would have to wait for at least an hour before they even mentioned leaving for the airport. He yawned, smoothing his hair down and setting his shirt right.
‘God, calm down! I’m comin’.’ He wrangled with the doorknob for a dazed few seconds, before figuring out he had locked it. He felt around for the key, finding it in his pocket. He struggled to put the key into the lock at least thrice before finally being able to swing the door open. ‘Patience is a good look on–’ Jeremy’s smile dropped. ‘Jean?’