Pretend You're Someone Else (Chap. 16)

*You can find the folder to the other chapters here:

ID: 1727540   (Rated: 18+) Pretend You're Someone Else  A man hides a secret from his family and has no clue that his son has the same secret. by KAT26/Adrian--Published!

CHAPTER WILL PROBABLY BE EDITED.

Part Two

Chapter Sixteen

May-1992

Avoy, Georgia

"I feel like a complete and total idiot! Can you ever forgive me?"

         Peter leaned against the pillar in the hallway of the hospital. Sweat built up on his temples, his hands shook slightly.

         In, out, breathe, you'll be fine.

         Robert is a traitor! Robert lied to you!

         Fighting back the tears, he composed himself, then he saw her--beautiful, Stacey Shelly-Price. She looked so full of life standing in the middle of a cluster of doctors. Her long, black hair fell in waves over her back. When she smiled two rows of perfect white teeth sparkled. Confidence radiated from her as she pointed at the notes on her clipboard. Obviously they were Georgina's medical records.

         He couldn't see her, not now anyway. Memories of the last time they spoke crossed his mind:

         I'll kill you--you worthless bitch!

         Nobody at school likes you, you're a freak of nature!

         You must be the stupidest person of this planet to actually think I loved you! I used you to trick my father. If you ever tell anyone what you saw--I'll kill you do you understand me, bitch?

         Now, eighteen-years later she was the only person who could save his daughter's life. He had to leave before Stacey recognized him. With his gaze focused on the black tile Peter quickened his pace and scuttled across the lobby.

         "Peter" Dr. Graham's raspy voice filled the air.

         Merde!

         With his whole body trembling he looked in the doctor's direction.

         "Peter! I hope you're well? Mrs. Rice just left to check-on Georgina, too bad you missed her."

         I suggest you find someone who will!

         Shaking his head at the flashback, he felt a migraine brewing.

         "No, I'm not feeling well. Would you be so kind as to tell Mrs. Rice that I will see her tomorrow around noon?" Peter diverted his eyes, so no one could see the tears building up inside.

         A look of sympathy from the doctor. "Very good, Peter."

*****

         The clock struck one a.m., Peter reached up to push the sweaty bangs off his forehead. He couldn't sleep. Robert's betrayal flooded his brain.

         Beautiful Robert who smelled like lemons and tasted like sugary coffee even at thirty-five. Robert lied, been lying since the summer of '76.

         His boyfriend--wait, ex-boyfriend must have called Paul at the hospital for a ride home because when Peter pulled into his driveway the Mercedes had vanished and so had the boys.

         So, the children knew. Big deal, right? The two of them were moving to Atlanta in June, if I can only make it through the next week and a half? Unfortunately, Robert will be forever close--Erich loved Paul to death.

         Then why couldn't he stop thinking about him? Every wonderful memory they shared since the eighth-grade floated in his mind. Torturing him into insomnia.

         The way Robert's lip curled up into a sleepy smile after sex.

         The tear drops that his friend secretly brushed away when he reread their old love letters aloud. Robert would turn his head pretending to look out the window, but Peter could see him digging at his eye.

         Then the morning after they reunited. The first shower they took together in almost eighteen-years. The hot water, not that they minded.

         Robert could also give a fantastic massage, both on the front and back.

         Peter grabbed his pillow and jammed it over his head. It hit him that in their entire relationship both in high school and in the two weeks of their reconcile, he had never gone down on Robert. The mere thought of it made him shiver---Peter had never been ready for it. Eventually, Robert would find someone new, then perhaps...

         He felt a loud sob come from deep in his throat. Damn he was crying, well more like flooding. The thought of seeing Robert with someone new, he couldn't handle it.

         Fighting his way out from underneath the sweaty sheets that still vaguely smelled lemony, Peter stumbled into the bathroom, blinking at the bright lights from the overhead fan.

         Pulling out several drawers he finally found it--a bottle of strong cough syrup.

         "Warning will cause drowsiness. Do not use while driving, or operating heavy machinery. Do not mix with alcohol," Peter read off the back.

         Perfect. He knew it was his only way to fall asleep.

         Downing the minimum amount, Peter turned and headed back to the massive king-sized bed. The room quickly swayed, his legs turned limp. Damn, this stuff works fast. Collapsing onto the pillows, he allowed sleep to finally claim him.

*****

         Groggily, Peter reached over to hit the alarm clock on his bedside table. Sitting up in the tangled silk sheets, he noticed that his hair felt sticky with sweat and his chin stubbly. A damp pillowcase told him he cried in his sleep.

         Fuck it! He wasn't in the mood for a shower. Pausing at the bathroom sink, Peter did brush his teeth and run a washcloth over his face before pulling on a pair of corduroys and polo shirt.

         Robert, Stacey, Robert, Stacey and Paul is their child. You're son is dating Paul and Stacey is the only person who can save Georgina's life. Peter grabbed the keys to the Camaro off his dresser, as a flashback from the night he received the car crossed his mind.

         You will pay for that.

         Why do you think I did it?

         Passing by Georgina's bedroom door, Peter lingered a little bit. Casting a glance at the stain glass window on his right, he asked for a sign--anything to help him through the day. Confident that everything would run smoothly, Peter padded down the stairs, then he saw them. Erich and Paul lay intertwined on the same couch that they were caught making-out on only weeks before. Erich had his head resting on Paul's chest. The TV was on, but muted; they must have fallen asleep while watching.

         Peter continued to stand on the bottom step staring at the boys through the open parlor door. The two of them looked so peaceful and happy, even while asleep. With a smile, Peter opened the front door. Stepping out onto the large, wraparound front porch, he knew he could do it. Today he would apologize to Stacey and beg her to save his daughter's life.

*****

         Peter slowly walked from one side of the waiting room, turned around and walked back to the other, his footsteps echoing through the tomb-like silence. There were approximately seventy-two tiles on the waiting room floor. Peter had been counting them as a way to calm his nerves.

         The nurse sent him here and made it crystal clear that Mrs. Rice would be in shortly. Pausing to stare out the window, Peter glanced at his shaking hands.

         You stupid bitch! I'll kill you! You good for nothing slut! Hear me? Don't you feel stupid? I used you, whore!

         Closing his eyes, Peter lay his forehead against the cool glass. He heard Dr. Graham and Robert's voice in his head:

         Mr. Anderson, she is the only one who can save your daughter's life.

         She was a first year med-student and for some reason that delighted me.

         Taking a deep breath, Peter looked down at the cars littering the parking lot. With a sigh, he turned back around to face the woman he saw in the reflection.

         "Good morning, Peter."

*****

         She looked the same except taller and more distinguished. Peter wished she would stop staring at him with those big, brown eyes. He wanted her to scream, cuss and even throw something. He couldn't handle her just standing there in silence.

         "Morning Stacey."

         She flashed him a perfect million-dollar smile. Every tooth ramrod straight and bleached to perfection. Truthfully, he preferred the slight overbite she had in high school, it gave her character. Wait, didn't Paul have that same flaw before Robert made him get braces?

         "Sit, let's discuss Georgina, shall we?" Stacey pointed towards the orange, plastic couch.

         Peter felt like Marie Antoinette being led to the guillotine. Somehow he made it next to her.

         "Good." Stacey opened her folder. "Let me show you what I've..."

         "What made you chose to be a doctor?" Peter blurred out. With feelings of regret he turned his head. "Sorry."

         "Not a problem." Cool, calm voice with a tiny drop of amusement.

         Turning back around he caught her laughing under her breath. Spreading her long fingers over the papers, she exhaled.

         "Remember how I left after the eighth-grade? I returned during senior year. Well, those three years I was absent I spent them in New York. I had scoliosis and my parents took me to a doctor in Manhattan. Who literally saved my life. I became so thankful that I wanted to someday be a doctor so I would also know what it felt like to save a person."

         Peter stared down at his Converse. He literally felt like the lowest person on the planet.

         Stupid bitch! I hate you! If you ever tell anyone what you saw today, I'll kill you!

         Turning his attention back to the woman beside him, she flashed him a smile. "Georgina will survive," she said. "I know I can save her." Stacey bit her lip. Peter inhaled.

         "Look Stacey, I'm going to go out and say it. You don't know how these past eighteen-years have affected me. I thought Joy was my punishment for the horrible way I treated you, but I obviously was wrong. Now, I'm asking you, begging you to save Georgina's life. If I were you I would flat out refuse for vengeance, but I swear Stacey I-I love my daughter. I have to get her back."

         A long pause. Stacey blinked several times, then. "Peter, didn't Robert tell you? I forgave you the day after we fought?"

         "Huh? What?"

         Stacey crossed one leg over the other, with a deep sigh, she seemed to trail off:

         "The morning after the fight I went to live with my grandparents in Atlanta. I told them I wanted to be in distance of a hospital in case complications should arise from my surgery. I ended up graduating high school with honors and enrolled in Emory. I needed money for med school, so I got a job waitressing. I hadn't been there long before Robert wandered in.

         I remember peeking in through the swinging kitchen door and seeing him literally stumble in--he looked a mess. His hair full of tangles, his clothes in a disarray. Bloodshot eyes completed the walking dead look. Honestly, I felt extremely sorry for him.

         Gathering up a menu, as well as a bunch of courage, I made my way over to him. He instantly recognized me. I took his order and left him crying over his coffee. Thankfully, he was my only customer.

         When I returned, he asked me to stay. We ate in silence for a bit, he shared his burger and onion rings with me." Stacey paused to smile. "I can't believe I still remember that.

         Once we cleaned the plate and I finished my cleaning duties, he opened up. He told me everything, Peter. From falling in love with you at first sight, how he 'seduced' you, his abuse in Italy, the first time the two of you made love, up until the day your arrogant father made that ridiculous comment about you never having a girlfriend."

         Stacey stopped. Peter studied his fingers. Life seemed to have come to a standstill.

         "Peter, he loves you. You do know that Robert planned on killing himself that night? If he hadn't walked into my diner, met me, and confessed everything he would have drowned himself in the hotel bathtub and our son--our son, Paul would have never been born. Fate was on our side that night. I wanted to be a doctor so I could feel the joy of saving someone's life--well his was the first.

         As you know, Paul came along nine months later. I remember at the hospital when I handed Robert the baby over--he wanted to tell you so badly that I was the mother, but I refused. I knew that if he told you things would get heated. I made him swear not to tell you. He reluctantly agreed.

         As the years quickly passed we met every year on the day before he left for his yearly trips to Europe. Robert would always ask me if this could be the year he told you the truth and I always declined. I didn't want to ruin the friendship.

         The night before last when I was in London he called me. I immediately knew something unexpected had occurred. First he told me about Georgina and he begged me to help her. He didn't need to, I would have gladly helped. After we discussed my trip back to Atlanta he mentioned that the two of you had started dating again. Peter, he was so happy. I barely made out his words from the non-stop crying of pure happiness coming from the other line.

         He ended our conversation wanting to know if he could finally tell you the truth about me. I then gave him my permission and blessing. I told him that since the two of ya'll were officially dating that the time had arrived. No more secrets should stand in between you two. He thanked me profoundly, we said our goodbyes and hung-up."

         Stacey trailed off. Peter laid his head on her shoulders, feeling the itchy fabric of her doctor's uniform against his cheek. It didn't surprise him when she wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

         "Sorry I used you in high school."

         Stacey sighed and gave a small chuckle. "I'm kinda glad you did."

         What? Peter raised his head in disbelief.

         "You know that our children would have ceased to exist if we hadn't screwed-up? If you and Robert didn't do what ya'll did then there would have never been a 'congratulatory' party at the bar. You would have never met Joy, Erich and Georgina wouldn't be here. On the flip side, Robert would have never been in Atlanta.."

         "I get it," Peter interrupted, swinging his foot.

         Stacey smiled. Peter sniffed and muttered, "Doesn't fix that I feel like a complete idiot and failure."

         "How on earth are you a failure?" Stacey demanded. He felt her body go rigid, as she blinked her eyes in disbelief while lecturing him. "Look at you Peter Anderson. According to Robert, you successfully repaired your family's reputation in this town. Somehow you survived Joy's wrath and you handled her with grace and you forgave her. That is probably why she left you. You do realize that love and hatred cannot mix. Her evil personality was being crushed by your wonderful spirit. When she left for good it made room for Robert to return. He has the same loving, caring soul you do. Forget how the two of ya'll acted in school. Erich, Paul and Georgina changed you for the best. Don't you ever forget it."

         Peter stared at Stacey in astonishment. This was coming from the girl whom he boldly threatened all those years ago.

         "You know I'm right," she continued with a smile.

         "I never thought of it that way before."

         "Well, I'm glad you see things my way. Now, tomorrow afternoon I want you, Robert, Erich and Paul back here in this room around two o'clock. Peter, you have a decision to make. You already made it clear that you want Georgina's baby, but what next? I know I can save her--I see brain activity, but when will she awake? Could be today, tomorrow, next week, month, year? I hate to say this but it could be thirty-years from now. Then there is the possibility of her never waking up. It's all up to you and I need your answer tomorrow. How long will you be willing to wait?"

         Peter swallowed a lump in his throat and nodded.

         "Good."

         They stood up and embraced. Peter could detected a faint smell of violets coming from her perfume.

         "Go home to Robert," she whispered. "He loves you more than you will ever know. Remember I was there that night years ago when we almost lost him. He loves you so much."

         A shiver ran down Peter's spin as the words sunk in.

         "He loves me."

         "Of course he does. Now, go home to him. I'm so excited for the two of you. Glad ya'll reunited."

         "Uh-huh," Peter's mind was elsewhere. Robert! Dear God, he might have tried to...? Could Peter have really been that selfish?

         Quickly he excused himself and with a, "See you tomorrow," he flew towards the exit.

         Peter had to get to Robert before it was too late.

*****

         Robert's mansion sat on the other side of town. Peter grabbed his Nokia and kept calling nonstop while racing down the all too familiar streets. Damn! The fifth ring and still no answer. Robert's house phone kept ringing and ringing. He refused long ago to buy the new cell phones. Peter knew one day they would eventually take over the world. His friend, never one for new technology, preferred his land line.

         Damn-it! Why wasn't he answering!

          Screeching the car to a halt in the circular driveway, Peter stopped to gaze at the surroundings. Could it really have been eighteen-years since he last drove down this driveway? Pushing the car door open, he quickly stumbled up the massive steps and like before, years ago, found the front door locked. Pressing his thumb to the bell, he jabbed at it over and over. Nothing. He tried again, while nervously hopping from one foot to the other. Still nothing

         Peter was ready to call the police when his attention fell on the birdhouse. To his absolute disbelief it still swung in the breeze from the rafters above. Could it be? He remembered as teenagers he and Robert always kept a spare key in case they were locked out.

         If Peter should ever believe in miracles, now seemed like the perfect time.

         Crossing the porch at lighting speed, he reached the antique birdhouse and tugged on the little rusty door. It fell open to reveal years of dust and dirt. Reaching inside his fingers caught on a piece of paper. Grabbing a hold, he pulled it out.

         The paper had been folded into a hard square and yellowed with age. With trembling hands Peter opened it. Buried inside he found the one-and-only skeleton key. What shocked him the most were the words scrawled on the paper in Robert's elegant handwriting:

         Peter---Next week your horrible father will force you to marry Joy. Please, don't do it. I love you so much. I need you back. Please take the kid from that evil woman. I'm sorry that I demanded you get an abortion. Let's take the baby and runaway to California? I will be waiting for you. Take this key, open the door and come up to my room--I'll be waiting for you. I know, I just know that you will somehow find this note and save my life.---Frankie

         Peter looked down at the key in his palm. Could this be the miracle he prayed for when he awoke? The theme to "The Twilight Zone" started up in his head.

         Looking back towards the front door, he noticed something he hadn't before. A small pane of decorate Tiffany glass had been embedded above the top of the door. Robert must have hired someone to do it, because it wasn't there in the '70s.

         Shoving the paper in his pocket, Peter grasped the key and reached the lock in three long steps. He prayed Robert never replaced them. With shaking hands he inserted the key in the slot and sighed with happiness as it clicked, and turned.

         ...come up to my room--I'll be waiting for you.

         "Yes, Robert, I'm here," he whispered, closing the door behind him. Peter paused to lock it back up, then flew up the carpeted staircase yelling Robert's name.

         "Robert, I'm here!"

         No sound as he jumped over the top step, and stumbled down the hallway.

         "Robert?"

         Peter opened the door to the sitting room.

         "Baby, I'm here."

         He pushed open the bedroom door and froze at what he saw, his breath literally stopped. Robert sat up straight in the bed, a nest of orange sheets curled around him. His eyes blinked in disbelief. It took a minute for him to rub the sleep from them.

         "Peter," he croaked. "Is that really you?"

         "I had to see you," he answered, while pressing his hands against the door frame, unsure of what to do.

         Robert raised his fingers to his hair and swept it back. Long eyelashes fluttered repeatedly.

         "Come in, it's alright."

         This time it was Peter's turn to stare in bewilderment. Taking in the bedroom around him, he saw the green shag carpet under his feet, '70s geometric print wallpaper plastered on the wall, the yellow desk with green trim, the record player sitting by the balcony window. Nothing had changed in eighteen-years.

         "Did I time-travel to the seventies?" Peter stopped to touch the sun faded curtains.

         "I bought a new TV."

         "Huh?" Glancing up, he found Robert still staring at him--not believing what he saw.

         "My old TV from the seventies died on me years ago. I replaced it."

         "Oh."

         Nothing else. Peter roamed the room. Everything still looked the same. He couldn't believe it. He paused to skip his fingers over a green, fabric chair, feeling the heavy velvet.

         "Peter, how on earth did you get in here? I locked the door."

         "Well, I tried calling you," he spat out. "I only have your bedroom line."

         A tiny smile tugged on the corners of Robert's mouth. He pointed towards the bedside table. Peter turned to see a phone, with the receiver off the hook.

         "I didn't wish to be disturbed," Robert stretched his arms over his head. "Told Paul and Erich last night I was sick. I didn't mention...our argument."

         "That's good," Peter inwardly sighed.

         "Yes, but you still haven't answered my question." Two deep, brown eyes stared back.

         Peter squeezed his own eyes shut and reached down to dig the note out of his pocket. He opened them just in time to see his friend's face turn a unclassified shade of white.

         "Oh, my God."

         "I found your note."

         For a long time they could only stare at each other. Robert finally broke the silence:

         "I totally forgot all about that, I had to be...seventeen."

         "Well, I'm glad you wrote it and it survived all these years. Georgia weather is quite unpredictable."

         Robert ran his hand over his nose. Peter remembered the conversation with Stacey. He loves you so much.

         Did Robert plan on killing himself back in '76 because the note was never found? Perhaps he thought Peter just didn't care? He needed to fix this, but first he had his own question that needed an answer.

         "So," he surveyed the teenage '70s decor. "What's with the 'blast from the past?'"

         Robert laughed and Peter felt a tinge of excitement on seeing his friend so full of life.

         "Peter, sit. Let's talk."

         Without hesitation he made a beeline for the bed. His old spot. The same bed...amazing.

         Robert scampered to dig some scattered tissue and deposit them on the floor. It was in that one gesture that Peter realized his friend meant the chair.

         "I promise you Paul and Erich don't know I live this way."

         "What way?" Peter pulled off his shoes and settled in. Wait. Were those the same sheets? Impossible.

         "Paul has never been in my room."

         "Are you serious?"

         Robert shook his head. "It's funny, my parents gave me thirty-million to 'never see them again,' plus the house. For revenge I turned their old bedroom into the nursery, it's been my son's room ever since. As he grew up, I tried to explain that daddy's bedroom was private. He never questioned me."

         "Yes, but you still haven't answered my question," Peter repeated with a sly smile.

         Robert shot him the evil look, then dissolved into laughter. Before he could stop himself, Peter reached out and kissed his friend on the mouth. He could see him close his eyes and sigh with happiness.

         Taking it as a good sign, Peter slipped downwards and rested his head on Robert's stomach, feeling extremely brave. Closing his eyes, he waited for his friend to speak.

         "I missed you so much when your father forced you into marrying Joy."

         Peter could feel Robert's fingers raveling through his hair, obviously not caring the unwashed condition it was in. Peter's own fingers itched to slip under the fabric of Robert's linen shirt. A massive nest of grayish hair waited--he wanted to bury his head in it. Unfortunately, he still sat in the dog house. Instead, flashbacks of the hospital fight swirled through his mind:

         I never fucking want to see you again!

         "Can I see my note?"

         Peter jumped at his friend's voice interrupting the painful memory. The tone abrupt and straight to the point, yet, Robert continued to play with his hair.

         "Hold on," Peter plucked the paper from his pocket and held it up for him to grab.

         A few seconds of silence passed. He could feel his friend's heartbeat through his chest. Quite soothing. A cool breeze swirled through the room from the open bay window. The smell of water entered his nose, a thunderstorm was close. Sighing to himself, Peter snuggled back into Robert, as his friend finally address him.

         "Yeah, I remember writing this. I was quite upset when you broke-up with me at May's Diner and had the absolute nerve to be all arrogant about it. I wanted you back so much that I craved you, if that's possible. I put out a 'wish' by writing the note. When the week passed and your father forced you into marrying Joy, I still had hope that you would return to me.

         Well, after graduation I couldn't take anymore. Seeing you being bullied by your father and Joy became too much. I cried myself to sleep so often that I would get constant nosebleeds. Finally, I decided to end my life in Atlanta, but you know what became of that.

         When I returned to Avoy with news of a baby my parents literally had enough. My attraction to boys and now a baby out of wedlock with no plans on marrying the mother. I remember my father saying, 'How much to get you out of our lives forever?' I demanded thirty-million and the house. He responded by calling me a dego, which is a very, insulting thing to call an Italian. Pretty much he called me, 'Italian trash,' but the word means a lot more. Anyway, he disowned me on the spot, and within hours my parents left. That was the last time I ever saw them.

         I went up to my room expecting them to have thrown everything away, but to my astonishment it was like I had never left. Besides the two months worth of dust and grime, nothing had been touched. All around were memories of the two of us, so I decided to keep it that way. If I couldn't have you physically, I could at least have you in my mind every night.

         I forgot all about that note and the key, but my God, Peter look around. There are tons of memories in this room, the majority of them took place in this very bed."

         Peter smiled at Robert's confession. He felt a major dose of atonement, Robert deserved it. He loves you, Peter.

         "I love you, Robert."

         A sniffle in response. He literally felt like the lowest person on the planet.

         "Peter, why did you come back?"

         "Stacey told me the story from her side."

         Robert shifted under him. "I tried to tell you, but you wouldn't listen to reason."

         Closing his eyes, Peter sighed. Only Robert can make me feel this miserable.

         "I realized how stupid I acted," he traced his fingers down his friend's pajama top. "I came because I want you back."

         "Peter sit up. I need to see you eye to eye."

         Slowly he inched his way closer. Robert wrapped his right arm around Peter and smiled through the tears in his eyes.

         "You know I'll always take you back."

         Inhaling deeply, Peter felt tears of his own. "I can't lose you again and I feel like a complete and total idiot."

         "Don't feel that way." Hands snaked around to the side of Peter's face. "Someone forgot to shave today," Robert giggled.

         "Well," he smirked. "I was too depressed to shave this morning."

         "Oh? Did you have Hank William's, 'I'm so lonesome I could cry,' on your mind as well?"

         Leaning forward Peter pressed his lips to Robert's. "I missed your sarcastic humor."

         Robert sighed and fell backwards. "I missed you too dear, but how many times will we be in this position?"

         "Hmm?" Peter undid the bottom button to his friend's shirt, he felt like he deserved it.

         "Well, this is twice now we've broken-up and gotten back together," Robert continued. "You know I'll always take you back. I'm just afraid one day will be too late...you'll find someone new."

         Peter jumped up in lighting speed. Blinking hard in disbelief he could only stare at Robert in bewilderment.

         "You do realize you're the only man who can handle me?" Robert whispered. "If that shall ever happen, I-I would rather be with a woman in a loveless marriage, then without you."

         Reaching out, Peter placed his palm on Robert's face and pulled him back. "Let me show you that I will be in your life forever."

         "Never leave me again."

         "Be with you for the rest of our lives."

         Peter smiled as Robert leaned forward to brush his fingers over his eyelids. "Show me."

         Falling back on the heels of his feet, Peter took a deep breath and cleared his head, everything had to run smoothly.

         "What are you doing? You have this mischievous smile." Robert bit his lip and giggled.

         "Dear," he clasped his reunited lovers hands. "When I visited my mother in Atlanta I told her about us."

         "Did you now," his friend raised one eyebrow. "What did she have to say?"

         Peter shrugged one shoulder, trying not to show any emotion. Inside he felt like jumping for joy. Playing it cool, he took a deep breath and continued. "She gave me her blessing."

         "Blessing?" Robert asked in confusion. Peter adored the dazed look on his face, he wondered what his friend would do next.

         "Yeah, her blessing," Peter skipped his fingers over the pattern in the orange chenille blanket. God, this thing is going straight in the trash. "Dear, she gave me her blessing to ask you to marry me."

         It took a minute for the words to sink in.

         "Huh? What? How?"

         Peter laughed so hard he tumbled backwards. "Let me answer one question at a time," he finally managed to say in between bursts of giggles. Robert still lay in what could only be a shell shocked state.

         "Third off is, 'how?' The Reservation will legally marry us. Second is, 'what?' I asked you to marry me. First is, 'huh?" You heard correctly."

         Peter smiled down at Robert. His friend's mouth opened up in shock, his eyes blinked continuously, finally he spoke:

          "I'm dreaming."

         "I guarantee you, you're not," Peter replied. Robert still tried to speak, but no words would come out, except little squeaking noises. He's sounds like a cute, little mouse! Peter also knew he had to convince his friend that this wasn't a dream.

         Learning forward, so that they were eye to eye, Peter continued. "Come live with me. Leave this house, and give it to the boys. I want you by my side forever. Since same-sex marriage is legal on my mother's Reservation, let's do it! This is the only way I can show you that I wish for us to be together forever. I know you always wanted for us to live in California, but I can't leave my daughter, nor my business. Someday, we can buy a summer home there..." Peter was abruptly cut off as Robert pounced like a tiger, pushing him back onto the pillows.

         "Oh, wow, dear!"

         Before he realized it, his boyfriend--wait fiancée, had literally started pulling his clothes off. Peter arched backwards as Robert pulled off his boxers.

         "Let me show you my answer," he laughed.

         "Mmm," Peter rolled his head backwards. Of course they were perfect for each other.

*****

         "Robert, I'm surprised you can still fit perfectly in my lap after all these years."

         Peter smiled, as he watched his fiancée playfully hiss and turn to settle down on the bed.

         "Well," he joked back. "At least I didn't gain twenty pounds since high school."

         Sticking his tongue out in reply, Peter picked up a ring from the pile scattered on the bed. After three hours of make-up sex, Robert packed his bags and once again they made their way over to Peter's house. The boys were gone for the night and would be home in the morning.

         Throughout the night Peter also thought of Georgina--weighing the pros and cons of the difficult decision he had to make. As odd as it may seem, he found his answer while taking a shower with Robert. Glancing at his fiancée, as he laughed so full of life under the hot spray, a strange calm settled over him and he knew what he had to do.

         After they changed clothes, Peter emptied out his jewelry box and scattered his rings on the bed. Settling Robert into his lap, just like old times, they started the task of getting ideas. Choosing a jade stone, he fitted it perfectly on his boyfriend's outstretched finger. Inside his head, he heard his daughter's voice. I want you to be happy, daddy. Those simple words confirmed Peter's decision, he knew what to tell Stacey.

         Turning his attention back to Robert, he saw him studying the ring with an intense look on his face.

         "What do you think?"

         Flexing his fingers, Robert cracked a smile. Peter could sense he was still in a daze.

         "I like the white gold band."

         Resting his head on Robert's shoulder, he reached down to pull the ring off, at the same time sliding his fingers over his boyfriend's hand, feeling the incredibly soft skin. He really has never worked a day in his life, or he uses a lot of lotion.

         "You don't like the jade?" He smiled back.

         "I've always been a diamond person."

         Mentally, Peter sighed with relief and slightly tossed the ring back in the pile. "Well, dear as you know these are just suggestions. We'll go jewelry shopping in Atlanta after I talk to Stacey."

         "Mmm...Tiffany's?"

         Peter laughed and planted a giant kiss on Robert's mouth.

         "If you wish," he sighed and looked out the window. "I wish Georgina could be at our wedding, she is an innocent girl brainwashed to do evil deeds by her mother. Sometimes, I feel like this is her..."

         Peter trailed off and bit his lip, he felt Robert pulling him back. "Don't think that way, always try to turn a negative into a positive. She's in this coma for a reason. I hate to say this, but do you think your mother would have met you in Atlanta after all these years if it wasn't for your daughter?"

         Peter shrugged his shoulders and ran his fingers up his fiancées arm. "Probably not."

         "Good," Robert airily replied. "You forgiving Joy caused her to move out. When she realized that she couldn't control you anymore, she found someone else. Forgiveness is how we can successfully move on with our lives."

         Peter smiled as he realized how right Robert was. Forgiveness and love will bring you anything you want. Without it we're nothing.

         "I love you, Robert."

         "Love you too, dear."

         Looking over at the bedside table, he decided to give his fiancée his present early.

         "Did you know that I bought you something while in Atlanta?" Peter lazily called out.

         Robert's eyes grew large. "Really? What is it?"

         Peter laughed as his gaze swept over his fiancée. He had never seen him so happy, being engaged definitely suited him. All he ever wanted to be was my wife.

         "Close your eyes." Peter crawled across the massive bed to the nightstand, stifling a giggle as Robert placed his hands over his eyes like a small child. Pulling open the drawer he took out a small, bluish-green box, where he removed the lid, stacked it under and lifted up the velvet case. Peter could be full of surprises and his fiancée was seconds away from getting one helluva shock.

         "Open your eyes."

         Robert lowered his hands and blinked. Glancing down at the engagement ring nestled in the expensive box, his eyes quickly filled with tears.

         "Is that?" He clasped a hand to his mouth, a small, visible shake ran through his body. Peter honestly believed he was about to tumble off the bed.

         "Robert, please, please don't cry, at least not until I finish," he reached out to steady him. "Can you do that for me?"

         A nod of the head.

         "Good. You know I've loved you since that wonderful day you walked into my eighth-grade English class wearing that outrageous outfit. I guess you can say it was, 'love at first sight?' We were then lucky enough to have been through a lot in the early years and unfortunately I lost you these past eighteen-years, but now, I want to make it all up to you by having you beside me for all eternity. We also must have known each other in a past life because from that first moment I lay eyes on you I felt a connect that I've never felt before. I don't know what we were, what century we lived in, if we were both men, or what, but I do know that I love you more than you can possibly understand. With that said, Robert Francis 'Frankie' Sella will you marry me?"

         Robert's response was to burst into a flood of tears.

         Peter extracted the ring and dropped the box on the bed. "Look, it's white gold with twenty, small diamonds circulating the band in groups of four."

         Robert responded by crying harder, then gradually escalated into hiccuping. Slipping the ring on his fiancée's trembling finger, he brought it up to his lips. "Please, stop crying, I have another present that I wish to give to you before we go to bed."

         "Peter, I really don't deserve this."

         Wrapping his arms around Robert they collapsed backwards onto the pillows.

         "Don't say that," Peter reached over to brush back Robert's hair that had fallen into his eyes. "You and my children are the best thing that ever happened to me, OK?"

         Robert sniffled. A sudden jerk of his hand and Peter saw the light sparkling on the diamonds, shooting an arc of prisms on the ceiling. Damn! This ring is powerful! Better be for what I paid for it.

         "Good," he nodded and continued. "Besides marriage what is something you've always wanted from me, but I could never give?"

         Twisting around in the ocean of blankets, Robert gasped. "Peter, I honestly cannot think clearly right now."

         "Really? Nothing comes to mind?" He popped the button on his fiancée's jeans, ran his hands up the expensive denim, then pulled the zipper down. "Nothing is crossing your mind right now?"

         Robert pressed his palm to his eyes, wiping away the tears that continued to flow like the Niagara. "This...this is too much, you've never done this before...I..."

         "Thirty-five years is long enough to be a 'virgin' in this area, just like I was in another way before we got together two weeks ago. I want to do this to you, you deserve it."

         "OK," Robert finally managed to squeak out. "I'll guide you through it."

         "Alright." Peter reached over to hit the dim button on the lamp; the room instantly fading away into darkness.

         "I love you for what you're about to do to me," Robert called out.

         Kissing him in reply, Peter lay down and seconds later felt fingers looping through his hair. "Love you too."

*Next Chapter*

ID: 1767946   (Rated: 18+) Pretend You're Someone Else (Chap. 17)  Peter and Robert make plans to humiliate the new girl at school. (1975) by KAT26/Adrian--Published!

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The picture that inspired Robert's engagement ring:

http://www.westonjewelry.com/estate-tiffany-and-co-mens-diamond-wedding-band-rin...