His Secret

by Isabel Lucero

Adrian swears you’re not eating breakfast if you’re not eating eggs, bacon, and sausage, but I say, you need to have some pancakes or waffles.

“Do you like me?” “What? Of course I do.” “Not like…” He pauses. “I mean, am I not being obvious enough?” “Obvious?” He blows out a breath. “Never mind. I’ll see you later.”

“God, you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he finally says, head still against mine. “You’re telling me,” I say with a shy smile. “I may have fantasized about this a time or two.” He smirks. “Good. Glad I wasn’t alone in fantasyland.” Fidgeting with my fingers, I say, “What now?” “Everything,” he replies with a wide smile. “I want to do everything with you.”

“You know, people say forgiveness is for the forgiver, but I don’t agree. You want my forgiveness so you can move on without guilt, but forgiving you gives me nothing. It doesn't erase my memory. It doesn’t fill a void. It doesn’t take us back to the past to figure out another way to do things. Forgiveness is for the guilty party, not for the wronged, and I no longer subscribe to catering to those who’ve hurt me. Like I said, you did exactly what you meant to and wanted, and my feelings were not a concern. I have to live with that and so do you.”

“What I felt for you was real, Matías. I’ve never experienced anything like it. I was honest with you about my feelings. I

told you things I’ve never told anyone. You are the keeper of my secrets, and I appreciate that more than you know. Not once in all these years have I forgotten about you. You showed me true happiness, and a love…” His voice shakes and I close my eyes. “A love I didn’t deserve. I only hope that even though I broke your heart, you still remember some of the good times we had. And I hope that I gave you a fraction of what you gave me.”

“I was thinking about whether or not you’d turn me down if I decided to pursue you. Or if you love your wife enough to say no to the first person you ever loved, who loved you back more than you know, who hasn’t stopped thinking about you since you walked away from him eight years ago. That’s what I was thinking.”

Love is a strange thing. It’s consuming, yes. Sometimes it’s blind and intoxicating. Other times it’s freeing. It can make you feel warm and protected. It can make you afraid. It’s not ever exactly the same for everyone, but once you love someone, there’s a part of your heart carved out only for them. That’s why it’s hard to move past someone who maybe isn’t right for you. You’ve carved a piece of yourself for them and you don’t want to let it go. You don’t want it to have been for nothing.

“This isn’t weird,” I whisper next to his ear. “No,” he says in a quiet voice. “It feels like home.”

“My company will not go to a deviant, and no child of mine will be gay and still be my child.”

He rubs his hand over his chest, right over his heart. “You can’t ask me to tell you to walk away, because I remember what it feels like to be the one left behind, and I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me for a long time. If you want me. Truly. Without reservation or fear, come to me and tell me, and I’ll be waiting.”

“What’s Summons House?” I ask. He smirks. “Look it up. And let me know if I’ll have plans next weekend.”

There are not any pictures of us being a couple out in public, and it breaks my heart to know that I kept him hidden the entire time. What we had was amazing, but it could’ve been even better if I hadn’t been so afraid.

I stand up, my cum leaving my cock in drips rather than ribbons now, and he peers up at me and opens his mouth, so I aim it as best as I can to land on his tongue. “Holy shit,” I gasp.

“Still so good.” Before I can bring myself to say anything, he’s walking away and disappearing into his room.

“It’s easy to do when you don’t have one. When you have no one to answer to. No one to hurt.” He lets out a mocking laugh. “Well, you know all about hurting people. Glad to see you’ve gotten to a point where you actually care. You didn’t used to.”

“You did it anyway, and yet now you’re so morally conscious. Afraid to cheat on a wife you’re not even attracted to. A wife you can never love in a way she deserves. However, you didn’t seem to think twice when it came to hurting me—the one and only person to love you for exactly who you are.”

“You used to care about obeying the rules and you were always worried about someone’s feelings being hurt.”

“Yeah, look what that got me.”

“Tell me,” I say in a husky tone. “Yes,” he replies, sucking in a deep breath. “I…I have things that I keep hidden. That I use from time to time when I’m alone.”

That statement breaks my heart a little. What brings him pleasure has to be kept hidden, like a dark and dirty secret.

Like the good husband that I am, I check in with my wife before I head to a sex club with the guy I’ve been sleeping with.

“Uh, no,” I say with a small smile. “I’m gay, so having a wife or girlfriend probably wouldn’t work out.”

Selfishness overpowers everything, and I’m not afraid to admit that I’m selfish enough to keep this up—because he is mine. He always has been. She’s just been borrowing him.