How long have I been waiting to finish writing this chapter (yes, finish, because much of what you can read today has been decanting in my computer for months now, waiting for its time) and to be able to publish it? SO LONG.
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It had been a whisper, nothing more, but it shattered Gabriel's body and conscience like the voltage drop that precedes the use of an electric chair.
The thirty-one-year-old remained motionless, aware of how crucial that moment was.
"Did he turn into one, Sam?" he dared to ask, clinging to the fierce hope that he had moved the right piece.
Pierced by that expectant look, Sam withdrew immediately.
"No, of course not," he denied, placing his bare feet on the edge of the sofa, bringing his legs closer to his body and burying his gaze in the tangle of blankets that enveloped him. "Can we change the subject? Please."
Gabriel had to put his whole strength and will into trying not to let his disappointment show in front of the twenty-six-year-old's retreat. But he wasn't going to give up so soon, oh no. The wind was still at his back and heck, he wasn't going to waste its potential by kicking himself.
"Sometimes I think I've been looking for a father in all the men I've been with," he confessed calmly after a few seconds, without giving Sam the time to fully entrench himself in the cage that had become his own mind. "Or rather, in some of them I was looking for a father. In others I was looking for my father. Has it ever happened to you?"
Sam barely looked up, throwing him a puzzled look from beyond the tuft of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes.
"I don't know if I understand what you mean."
Gabriel looked back at him without the slightest trace of hesitation or shame.
"Have you ever looked for your father in one of your lovers? In Luc, for example. Have you ever wondered if you ended up with him because of your problems with your father?"
At that point Sam felt a hint of affront, but Gabriel had taken it into account. He had brought him back to the heart of the conversation and this, for the moment, was the only result he needed.
"What could the problems I had with my father have to do with Luc?" the boy retorted, almost offended, and Gabriel shrugged, pushing out his lower lip in an expression that was falsely clueless.
"I have no idea. But I know I slept with a lot of men just to try to fix all the bullshit my father unloaded on me. I looked for the protective ones, I looked for the sadists, I did everything I could think of, no matter how stupid and dangerous it could have turned out to be. Until..."
"Until?" Sam pushed, without realizing he had taken the bait.
"Until I realized that my father is dead," Gabriel decreed, resolute as only Doctor Novak's assistance had managed to make him. "Or maybe not, maybe he's still breathing, but who cares. For me that man no longer exists. It would be useless to live believing that I can fix all the shit he did to me, because I will never succeed until I see the solution in him. He is the cause of most of my suffering, he cannot also be the way out. And in the same way it would be useless to live believing that I still owe him something, that I can give it to him now that he is no longer here."
At that point Sam frowned, bewildered.
"You don't owe your father anything," he said confidently.
Before firing the decisive shot, Gabriel raised his eyebrows.
I'm going to either sink or swim.
YOU ARE READING
Mint and apricots
General FictionFrom that fateful day, Sam was more careful. He didn't want to worry Luc. He followed his rules diligently, certain that they were a sign of his love. Occasionally, however, he fell into error. He got distracted, he suffered some setbacks, something...
