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Rated: 18+ · Book · LGBTQ+ · #1624276
This story is a Gay Romance.
Moon Dance: A Fantasy



By



Rob McCabe





































© 2009

























Part I





Waxing Moon



  Circe’s Coffeehouse was unusually crowded for a Thursday night. Steven Chambers came through the back door and walked to the counter to order his usual—a peach smoothie. The young man behind the register smiled a warm welcome as he talked briefly to him, making the drink the special way that Steven liked it, with real milk, not water and ice. Steven thanked him and said,



    “How come it’s so packed tonight David?”



David shrugged his shoulders.



    “I guess people just need a place to hang out. It’s great to see you Steven. How’s the new book              coming along?”



  Steven winced a little. He was feeling very guilty. He had stopped writing his new book, because, and this he told himself often, he felt that he didn’t have anything new or important to say. He smiled at David and told him that it was slow going, but he’d find the inspiration to start writing again soon. David smiled and turned his attention to the next customer. Steven looked around for a place to sit down, but there wasn’t a seat to be had. Then, as luck would have it, and luck will always have her way, a young couple got up from the large leather sofa near the fireplace and Steven ran to grab the place before anyone else could beat him to it. He scanned the room for any familiar faces and saw his friend Nathan with his latest boy-de-jour—someone he had probably met on the Internet. Steven saw him and waved a friendly hello and watched as Nathan excused himself and came over to the couch and sat down.



    “Hey there buddy, how you been?”



Steven smiled.



    “It’s great to see you Nathan. How’ve you been?”



  Nathan smiled his usually devilish grin and nodded in the direction of the young man who sat at the table Nathan had just left.



    “I’m doing just fine. Isn’t he a dream?  I met him on Yahoo Personals.”



  Steven looked at the young man. He was reading a well-worn copy of Exene Cervenka’s book of poetry. He was dressed in a white t-shirt, his black hair, an obvious dye-job was spiked and he wore a spiked collar around his neck. He wore tight-fitting blue jeans and black leather lace-up boots, similar to the types that Punks used to wear during those halcyon days of Punk fashion.



    “Hasn’t anyone told him that Punk is passe’?



  Nathan gave a little giggle.



    “Who cares? He’s a great substitute for Rosie Palm and Her Five Daughters.”



  As if sensing someone was talking about him, the young man looked up from his book and looked at Nathan with a longing look which made Steven a little sad. No one had looked at him like that in years. A little wave of jealousy crept over Steven’s heart and then quickly receded. He knew that Nathan’s new relationship would never last.



    “Ooops, gotta go babe. I have a feeling I’m needed.”



  Nathan leaned over and gave Steven an affectionate peck on the cheek, got up, and headed back towards his table.



    “Have fun. Call me?”



  Nathan waved a goodbye over his right shoulder without turning around and sat down at his table and began to talk to Punk Boy.  Steven made a place for his laptop, opened it, found the file which contained his novel, and began to write.



  It had been a couple of hours of intense writing before Steven noticed that the place had dwindled to a few stragglers. He saved his file on his hard drive and made a backup copy on a disc, just to be safe. “After all,” he thought to himself, “you don’t want to have a repeat performance of what happened last year, do you?” he winced as he recalled how he had lost several pages of his play due to a virus which he had gotten from the Internet.  It was after this event that he began to make backup copies. He closed his laptop and sighed. It was time for another Espresso. He looked in the direction of the counter and waved as David looked in his direction. Steven mouthed, “Another Espresso, please.” David nodded and went to work. Steven pulled a copy of Burroughs’ Naked Lunch and began to read. He loved these quiet moments when he made time to read after writing. He was jealous of the authors he loved so much. Why did they get published with such frequency? He had decided to really study the works, see what made a difference, find their voices and discover their writing styles. Maybe, just maybe, he would make a discovery and become more confident.  David brought his Espresso and he dove into his book.



  He didn’t know how long he had been reading, when he finally raised his eyes from the pages and took another sip of his Espresso. He looked around to give his eyes a break and that’s when he saw him. A man was sitting a couple of tables away, engrossed in his reading. Steven thought him quite handsome. He had shoulder-length brown hair which flowed softly over his shoulders. He had a ruggedly handsome face with a slight after-five shadow. He seemed totally immersed in what he was reading, but Steven was lonely and needed to make contact. He cleared his throat and spoke.

Page 3.



    “How’s the book?”



  The man looked up for a moment and smiled.



    “It’s all right. It’s the sequel to Best Little Boy in the World. Did you ever read it?”

   

    “No. But I have heard a lot about it.”



  He smiled and then leaned forward towards the reader.



    “I’m Steven.”



    “Joe. Nice meeting you.”



  Steven smiled as David came up to inform his customers that the place was closing. Steven looked at the clock. Eleven p.m. already? Where had the time flown? He began to pack his laptop into his carrying case and noticed that Joe had gotten up and was headed out the door.



    “Nice talking to you,” he shouted. Joe turned around and waved goodbye. Steven watched him walk past  the window. He sighed. It was too bad that they didn’t have more time to talk. He was cute. “Oh  well,” he said to himself, “I’ll take more time the next time I see him.”





_      _    _













Full Moon





  The car wound its way through the sparsely wooded path. Ahead in the distance, Steven could barely make out the two- story house. He was listening to his CD when the song Moondance came on just as he exited the woods and came to a clearing where Joe’s house stood on top of a small hill. As he stopped his car, he sat back, closed his eyes and listened to the song as it ended. He opened the car door and looked up into the night sky. It was filled with stars and a full Harvest moon shone down on the landscape, illuminating the field with its bright incandescent glow. He sighed at the beauty of it all as he slowly made his way to the front door. He rang the bell and waited. “Coming,” said a voice from somewhere within the house. He could hear the sound of hurried footsteps approaching the door and then he saw the door knob turn and the door opened.



    Steven couldn’t believe that a year had already passed since that night at Circe’s Coffee House. Now, as the door opened, he saw Joe’s smiling face and all of the uneasiness disappeared into the night sky.



    “Hi Steven, come on in.” Joe stepped aside as Steven walked into the foyer. He closed the door behind them and led the way into the living room. He stopped and turned and walked to Steven and gave him a soft, gentle kiss on the lips and as he hugged him, Joe whispered into his ear, “God I am so glad you’re here.”

  Steven smiled. “Me, too.”



  He looked around the room and saw the newly decorated room with its plush leather couch, the two sitting chairs made from the same black leather. The coffee table was a dark, rich, Mahogany, with oversized coffee table books placed neatly on one of its corners.  There was a large Mahogany wood entertainment center complete with a 24” plasma television, a DVD/Videotape player/recorder and a Bose sound system. The wall was lined with bookshelf after bookshelf of books, records, CDs, and DVDs. The place, however didn’t have the comfortable, lived-in quality that most houses have and then Steven remembered that Joe had only gotten back into his old home two months before since his divorce. It had been a real mess when he had finally evicted the tenants. They had lived there for eight years and had left the house in such a state, that Joe had entertained the idea of suing them for willful destruction of property, but had decided against it, since he was still paying child support for his two kids and still reeling from his divorce. Over the past year, they had spoken on the phone almost daily, and had a few dates, but this was the first time Steven had been invited to Joe’s sanctuary. Gods, he thought to himself, he had really ached to see Joe again and here he was standing in the house he thought he would never enter. Joe had been so hesitant about letting anyone come here. But it was apparent that Joe also wanted to welcome Steven into his little corner of the world.



  Steven looked at Joe and smiled. Joe was dressed in a white, tight-fitting muscle shirt and dark black jeans. At 5 feet 10 inches. he was sturdily built, his shoulder-length black hair freshly washed and tied neatly back into a pony tail. Steven smiled as he looked in Joe’s direction.



    “Come on. Let me show you the house.”



  Steven followed Joe through the entire house, as he talked about the extensive reconstruction he had to do before he could finally move in. He showed Steven pictures of what the former tenants had done to the place before their lease had expired; broken basement windows, feces stains on the old carpet which he had to replace, holes in the ceiling of the basement. As Joe continued the litany of abuses his house had suffered, all Steven could do was say, “Holy Shit.” Joe laughed and said, “That’s what I like about you Steven….your language is so simple and straight forward.” Steven laughed good-naturedly.  They wound their way through the huge house—from the basement to the large Master’s bedroom completely furnished in soft wood tones, containing a huge king-sized bed, a walk-in closet filled with clothes. “Thank the Gods,” thought Steven as he walked in the closet—“just clothes; no casks filled with human hair, bones, or blood like Mr. Fox’s closet.” Steven’s touch on the back of his neck made him jump a little.



    “What’s wrong?”



  Steven smiled.



    “Nothing, just thinking of a story I’m working on. Preparing for another show this weekend and your                                                                                                                closet reminded me of it.”



    “Must be some story to make you jump like that.”



    “It is. I’ll tell it to you sometime.”



  They went back downstairs. They sat on the large, comfortable leather couch. Joe looked at Steven with his large brown doe eyes and Steven leaned over and kissed him on the mouth. Their tongues passed softly over each other’s. Their breathing was hard, labored. Finally, they separated.



    “Wow!!!” Steven managed to say after he had gained his breath.



Joe agreed.



    “How long has it been since you’ve kissed someone?”



  Steven winced at the memory. Had it been six years since he had broken up with Paul? Since their break-up he had vowed never to kiss anyone until it meant something to him. He had had several sexual encounters, and when his sexual partners had wanted to kiss, he had refused. He could share his body, he reasoned to himself, but a kiss was something sacred to him—not to be squandered on just anyone.



    “Too long,” sighed Steven.  Joe took Steven’s face into his hands and looking into his soft blue eyes he smiled and said, “You don’t have to be afraid anymore.” He kissed him gently again and after a few seconds, Joe said. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I need a drink. You like wine?”  Joe got up from the couch before Steven could answer. He could hear Joe puttering around the kitchen. Steven was filled with a nervous excitement.  This would be their first night together and he was also nervous.  Joe’s divorce had been brutal for him and his sons. Steven smiled at the thought that Joe’s kids liked him more than their own mother—a thought which brought the smile. The ringing of the phone jolted him out of his reveries.



Joe called from the kitchen.



    “Will you please get that for me ?”

    “O.K.”



Steven got up off of the couch and picked up the phone.



    “Hello?”

    “Joe?” It was a woman’s voice. Steven swallowed a little nervously.

    “No, he’s in the kitchen. Let me get him for you.”

    “Who IS this?” the woman sounded a little bit less than pleased—in fact she sounded upset.

    “Hold on..I’ll get Joe for you.”



Joe’s head peeked around the corner as he mouthed “Who is it?”



  Steven shrugged his shoulders and handed the cordless phone to Joe, whispering…”it’s a woman.” Instinctively Steven knew that it must have been Joe’s ex. She always had the knack for calling at the wrong time. He remembered how on Joe’s birthday when Steven had taken Joe to dinner at Ruby Tuesday’s  She had called him to complain about his visitation rights again and he had lost all of his clam demeanor and actually yelled at her on the phone while they were waiting for their dinner to be served. Joe had referred to her as the bitch from Hell. As he handed the phone to Joe, he could see a slight annoyance cross his face, clouding his once cheerful face into a mask of darkness. Steven turned and walked back to the couch and sat down.



  “Hello? Oh it’s you. What do you want?”



Joe’s curtness made Steven feel uncomfortable.



  “Not that it’s any of your business Helen…his name is Steven and he’s someone I’m seeing. Why should that concern you? Uh-huh. Yeah, well it sucks to be you and it’s all  my fucking fault. WHAT???”



Joe’s yell startled Steven and he found himself trying to listen to the conversation at hand.



    “God damn you Helen. You can’t do this to me or the boys!!! I have a perfect right to see them this weekend. It’s my fucking weekend!!!”



Steven shifted himself on the couch feeling very uncomfortable at being in the middle of all of the crap.



Joe sounded very upset. Steven could almost hear a hint of angry tears beginning to build up.



    “Yeah? Well you listen to me you fucking bitch. You have my kids ready for me on Friday or I’ll have your fucking ass in court. And Helen? Don’t keep calling me, you hear me? Do your talking through your lawyer and I’ll do my talking through mine. I mean, that’s what we’re paying them for, right? Uh-huh…well fuck you!!!”



  Steven could hear Joe slam down the receiver and he could see that Joe was visibly shaken as he came into the room. Joe had a wineglass in each hand and set them down on the table. 



    “I’m sorry Steven.”

    “Me, too. Are you o.k.?”

    “Yeah. It’s just that my fucking ex-wife is up to her old tricks again. She still wants to make    my life a living Hell.”



  Steven stared uncomfortably at his wine glass sitting on the table and made a gesture to reach for his glass when Joe saw what was happening and gently stopped Steven’s hand from going any further and picked up both glasses. Handing one to Steven, he smiled and said,



    “I really am sorry. Let me say that I am glad that you are here with me now and I want to welcome you to my home.”



  They clinked glasses and took a sip. The wine, a dark, rich  burgundy felt warm going down Steven’s throat. The two sat for a moment in silence before Joe spoke.



    “I really am glad that you finally decided to accept my invitation and come for dinner.”

    “What are we having?” asked Steven

    “A Tancredi family secret recipe.”

    “Can’t wait,” said Steven.



  Several more seconds passed before Joe turned to Steven and gently took his face in his hands and leaned over to kiss him. Steven responded with a new-founded openness—a trait that he had been afraid to show after so many years of emotional heartache.



    “Wow!!!” Joe said with a smile.  “That was some  kiss.”



  Steven smiled.



    “You said it.”



  Joe got up off the sofa and went to the stereo to turn on some music.



    “Do you like Van Morrison?”

    “Yeah, I do. Why?”



  Without saying another word, Joe pushed the play button on his CD player and Steven heard the familiar strains of his favorite song by Van Morrison…Moon Dance. He laughed.



    “What’s so funny?”

    “I was listening to this song in my car as I arrived.”

    “No…really? Wow!!! Talk about coincidences.”



Joe walked towards the couch and held out his hand towards Steven.

         

    “Want to dance?”



Steven laughed and took Joe’s hand.



  “You lead, o.k.?

    “I intend to,” said Joe with a wicked smile.



  They danced around the living room. Joe was pretty good at leading and they laughed

good-naturedly together. When the song ended, they fell onto the sofa laughing.



    “God. I haven’t danced like that in a long time,” Joe said.



  Steven looked over at Joe. He took his hand and gently brushed Joe’s hair to one side. Joe’s face was flushed from dancing and Steven’s face was slightly red from the heat of sexual excitement. Joe had turned his head and was looking in Steven with such a sad look.



    “What’s wrong Joe?”

    “Nothing. It’s just that it’s been so long since…”

    “For me too.”



  Dinner was quite enjoyable as the two men talked about their lives and backgrounds. Steven listened more than he talked—partially to be polite but mostly because of his nervousness.



    “And that was that,” said Joe. He had brought Steven up to date on his life and was now ready to move on to other things.  “I have an idea,” he said after a long awkward silence, “let’s go for a walk. It’s a beautiful night with a bright full moon. You can see thousands of stars and there are about 3 miles of woods and a clearing which is part of my property.”

Without saying another word, Joe held out his hand to Steven who rose from the table and took it.



    “Don’t worry about the dishes. I’ll clean up when we get back,” he said as he led Steven through the back door and out onto the porch.



  Joe had been right. It was indeed a beautiful night. He could hear the sounds of crickets and other night creatures. Joe led the way down the porch steps to the neatly mowed lawn, past the flower garden which, although it was night, still exuded the soft scent of roses, lavender, lilacs and other flowers and herbs. The moon was full and shone down brightly on the two men as they wandered through the garden to the edge of the woods. Steven stopped short and Joe turned to look at him.



    “What’s wrong?’

    “I’ve never walked in the woods at night before. What if we get lost and can’t find our way  out?”



    Joe laughed. “Don’t worry so much. I know these woods like the back of my hand. I’ve been walking in here since I was ten.” he said.



  Joe led Steven through the many twists and turns deeper and deeper into the woods. As he wandered with Joe, Steven thought to himself that it was too bad that they hadn’t dropped any white stones along the path to find their way back to the house. As if reading his mind, Joe smiled and gave Steven a reassuring squeeze of his hand as if to let him know that they weren’t lost.



  They walked for a long time in silence. The woods were thick with trees, but Joe seemed to have a very keen sense of direction. They finally came to the edge of the woods which led out onto a meadow.  The knee-length grass rustled as they walked to the center of the field. Above, the moon shone down so brightly that it lit up the meadow and Steven could see every little detail of his surroundings.



    “ Gods, it’s so beautiful here .”

    “Yeah. It really is.”

 

  Joe sat down on the grass and pulled Steven down beside him.  They sat for a long time in silence taking in the night air and just sharing their closeness. Then, without warning, Joe turned to Steven and kissed him hard on the mouth. Steven responded with equal passion. They lay down on the ground and as the moon shone down on them, they opened themselves to each other. Their moans and groans of passion were carried on the wind. Then, as Joe cried out in orgasmic pleasure, Steven heard the screech of an owl and heard the sound of wings overhead. After they had both cum, they lay side by side looking up at the star-filled sky.



    “Wow!!!! That sure was something. You were incredible, Joe.”

 

Joe turned his head and smiled.



    “So were you, Steven—so were you!!!”



  They laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of sex and then said nothing to each other for a long time. The cool summer breeze blew gently over their hot sweaty bodies. Steven could hear Joe softly breathing and he turned his head to one side to look at him. He had a contented smile on his face. Then Steven heard a soft voice say, “Did you enjoy yourself?”

Steven sat bolt upright and saw a woman standing in front of him. She was dressed in a white chiton dress—the kind worn by Classical Greeks. What the fuck was going on here? As if reading his mind, the woman spoke inside his mind.



  “Do not be afraid. I am Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love. You may speak to me without speaking. Do not alarm yourself or your beloved by speaking. I have come to you my son because you have prayed to me for a long time to send you someone with whom you might be able to love and share a life together. Here he is lying beside thee. Does he please you?”



  Steven turned his face to look at Joe who was sleeping peacefully. He smiled and nodded his head. Aphrodite smiled. For years, Steven had turned to the Ancient Greek Gods and Goddesses for spiritual strength. He had set up an altar in his bedroom with statues of Pan and Hekate—his God and Goddess and had also performed hundreds of love spells and had offered up sacrifices to Aphrodite for her to send him someone. And here she was standing in front of him—her long blond hair blown by an unfelt breeze. Joe stirred, rolled over on his side and gently stroked Steven’s leg. Steven nodded his thanks to the Goddess of Love and she faded into a soft mist and floated away into the night sky. As the mist disappeared into the night, he heard a voice whisper on the soft night breeze, “Enjoy him.”



    “You  o.k.?” Joe’s voice whispered in the night air.

    “Oh, yeah,” answered Steven as he rolled on his side and kissed Joe with a series of hot, wet kisses.



_ _ _ _ _ _



Waning Moon





  Steven woke with a gasp. He sat bolt upright in the bed he had shared with Joe for the past ten years and wiped the sweat from his face. Joe was lying beside Steven, breathing peacefully oblivious to the suffocating nightmare that had become a regular fixture in Steven’s nightly  travels with Morpheus, the God of Dreams. He sat up and tried to make sense of the dream.



  In the dream, they were sailing in the little sailboat they had bought five years into the relationship. The dream began the same way. They’re laughing, the sky a beautiful blue with soft white clouds. Then the dream shifts. Suddenly, the boat is being tossed about like a matchstick. The sky has turned black and is filled with flashes of lightning and the deafening sound of thunder fills the air. Steven screams for Joe to watch out for the rocks ahead and Joe tries, unsuccessfully, to steer the boat away before it crashes to smithereens. They’re tossed into the maelstrom and the waves start to toss the two lovers like toys. Steven reaches out to Joe who reaches out desperately to Steven, throwing his arms around his neck as a huge wave crashes over the two entwined lovers. There is the sound of suffocation and he always bolted gasping for air.



  Now, as he looked at Joe, Steven felt a shiver. The man next to him had definitely changed—and not for the better. For the past two years, it seemed to him that Joe had drifted away. No longer was he the playful lover—hell, he couldn’t remember the last time they had had sex together. Steven had heard that every relationship eventually had their odd moments, but this was getting serious. Joe never seemed to really talk anymore. Talk, yes, but only superficially. Joe mumbled something in his sleep and moaned softly. Steven could see Joe’s immense cock grow turgid under the sheets and his first impression was to jump on him and have sex. Joe still turned him on, despite the other things which had soured their relationship. He got up out of bed and walked to the bathroom. He closed the door and fumbled for the light switch.



  The piercing bright light momentarily blinded him. He walked to the toilet, put the cover down and sat to think.  He began to slowly analyze his dream. What did it mean? Obvious imagery of the subconscious: water, the boat, an obvious sexual metaphor, hitting the rocks….he thought about how solid their relationship had been at one time, now, if he was reading his dream correctly, the relationship was heading for a rocky point—maybe it had already reached it—and that’s what it meant when the boat crashed onto the rocks. It was then that he realized the final bit of the dream. Joe hanging his arms around Joe’s neck and bringing him down into the suffocating waters. Joe was suffocating Steven in the relationship. He started to cry. He loved Joe. Steven had loved the way he had made him laugh so often. Then he knew what he had to do. He had to get out of the house to think. He would go to his special meadow and think. Maybe he would find the answers to his numerous questions. He got up, lifted the toilet seats in case Joe had to go to the bathroom while he was gone, turned off the light and opened the door. He found his clothes, got dressed in silence and left the bedroom through the upper porch door, walked down the stairs and into the garden. There was no moon and he began an erstwhile, fervent prayer to the Goddess Hekate to help him solve the problem of his broken heart.



  The meadow was quiet—unnaturally quiet when he got there. Usually there were night sounds. Animals moving about—something. But tonight…nothing. He looked up at the sky filled with stars. He closed his eyes and silently prayed to his Goddess, Hekate to come to him and help him. As if in answer, the wind slowly began to pick up. He could feel the air vibrate around him with an energy he had learned to feel after years of studying the Craft, (as Wicca, the Old Religion, was often referred to). He heard the mournful sound of baying dogs coming from deep within the woods on the other side of the clearing. A Screeching noise filled the air and as he opened his eyes, Steven saw a huge Screech owl fly out of the woods and head straight for him. He was scared but stood his ground. The owl flew three times around his head, screeching, then turned and flew back into the woods. The baying of the hounds grew louder and then he saw her.



  She had come through the edge of the woods on the other side of the meadow. He could see the torch she held in one hand, burning with a dark, red glow. She held a gigantic black mastiff hound by a huge leash. Hekate was dressed in a black chiton, and her head was covered with a thick lack veil which hid her three heads.  He stared in wonder at the appearance of his goddess and finally began to walk towards her. He was about 50 yards away, when the hound began to snarl a warning and he stopped.



    “Why have you called me, my Son?”



  The voice came from beneath the veil and yet it didn’t come to his ears, but to his mind.



    “Mighty Hekate, Goddess of the Dark Mysteries, I need your help.”

 

    “Speak.”

         

  Steven told her everything—his love for the man to whom now appeared to be a stranger. She appeared to be listening, and as he began to cry, the dog began to growl. When he had finished telling her all of his hopes and fears about his relationship, She suddenly said, in a loud, clear voice,



    “Stop.”



  Steven stopped talking and listened to the words of wisdom which came from the Dark Goddess.



    “My son, you know what you must do. You have had many signs and yet you have ignored them. You must decide quickly before it is too late for you. You know in your heart of hearts that this relationship is over—finished. Now, it is up to you to do the correct thing.”



  Then , with a sudden flash, she was gone and Steven was alone. He thanked the Goddess for her words of wisdom and he turned and made his way home.



    “Where the Hell have you been?” Joe asked in a mixture of anger and concern? “Do you have any idea what I have been going through? I woke up and you were gone.”

         

    “I went for a walk.”



    “A walk??? At 4 a.m.? Are you fucking crazy? Where did you go at this time of night?



    “To the meadow. I needed to think,” Steven said tiredly.



    “Think? Think about what? What could you possibly need to think about at 4 a.m.?

What?”



    “Us.”



  Joe sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at Steven with a look which conveyed ignorance. Gods he really doesn’t know what the fuck I am talking about does he, Steven thought to himself.



    “Us? You went for a walk at 4 a.m. to think about our relationship? You went out into the night, alone, to the meadow to think about US? What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you have any idea how concerned I was? How could you be so selfish?”



Joe began to cry—hot tears of anger and frustration.



  Steven sat down next to Joe and tried to hold him, but Joe got up and walked to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.



  Steven sat there for several seconds before the final realization hit him. Joe was angry. He didn’t want to leave until he had told Joe everything. It was several minutes before Steven heard the bathroom door open, and Joe came out, eyes red from crying.



    “Joe, honey…..I’m sorry. Really I am. Will you let me explain, please?”



  Joe sat down on the bed, hands folded in his lap.



    “Well?”



  And then it all came out. Steven told him all of his fears and concerns about Joe’s emotional distance, about his coldness in bed, everything. Steven observed that Joe’s reaction was quite the opposite of what he had hoped. Steven sat there like a stone statue, exhibiting stone-cold silence. Several seconds passed before Joe got up and crawled back into bed.



    “Joe? Say something. Anything, but don’t go to bed angry. Let’s talk this thing out!!! Now, before….” He stopped himself from finishing the sentence which would certainly end things forever



    “There’s nothing more to say. It sounds to me like you’ve already made up your

mind. Why don’t you just leave?”



  Steven couldn’t believe it. Joe was kicking him out without fighting for their life together! Slowly, he went to the closet, pulled out his suitcase, and began packing. He packed while Joe lay there, obviously aware of the dramatic moment which was taking place, yet doing nothing to prevent it. As a final gesture, Joe took off his wedding band that Joe had given to him when they had married in London and placed it on the dresser.



    “Joe? I’m sorry. I thought we could work things out. But you make it impossible. You never talk about your feelings. You just lay there. You’ve done nothing but lay there for the past four years. I was hoping….” He stopped himself. Joe sat up in bed and looked at Steven.



    “Thought what?”



    “That we could have made this marriage work if we could have treated each other as adults. But I guess I was a fool to wish for the moon. I’m leaving Joe. Please don’t call me or try to see me again. It would be too painful. Also,” he added with a sigh,” I left you your ring and I want mine back too.”



  Joe stared in disbelief. This couldn’t be happening. Not to them. Surely he had been a good lover and provider, he thought to himself. Obviously, he was wrong.



    “That too?”

    “That too.”



  Joe took a hold of the ring which had been a token of Steven’s love and he held out his hand for Steven to take it. Steven walked to the bed, tears filling his eyes, and took the ring. He looked into Joe’s face. It was filled with sadness.



    “Are you going to be all right?”

    “As if you cared,” answered Joe with a note of sarcastic coldness.



  Steven turned, took his suitcase and walked to the door. Without turning around, he said,



    “Goodbye Joe.”



  Stony silence greeted his ears. Steven opened the door to the bedroom for the last time and walked down the stairs. He opened the front door and stepped into the cold light of morning and closed it behind him with one final slam.

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