Twoset Shorts

One last chance. (angst)

It all started that evening. The evening that were supposed to be so amazing.
I had bought concert tickets to the Singapore symphony for Brett and myself for Brett's birthday. But due to covid, the concert wasn't due until that friday in the beginning of May. That didn't matter though, we were looking forward to finally attending a live concert again, and as we knew a couple of the musicians as friends, this was somehow a kind of event.
After the concert we were invited home to William, he would ask some of our mutual friends over for a nice time. All in accordance with the rules from the government of course.

First, I took Brett out to a fancy meal. He was finally able to eat everything on the menu again, which I was happy to see.
While he was sick, he had to follow strict diets, which made us both crazy, because he was of course craving everything he couldn't have. Fortunately his new meds worked out quite well, and now he was coming back to me as his old self, the way I loved him.

Everything was SO perfect. The food was amazing, Brett was even more amazing, and the concert was... fantabulous.
You know when everything is so fucking perfect, you just know something shitty is about to happen?
This was that kind of night.
I just knew that perfection couldn't last. It would have to break.

And so it did.

I'd never imagined what was waiting for me though.

The "party" was nice. At least what I remember from it.
There were some strangers there as well, not knowing how they would react to gays, and we all having too much to drink, Brett and I stayed discrete, like we pretty much always do. People really don't have to know everything all the time.
Brett got away from me a couple times, but that's fairly common, he's very social when having too much alcohol.
I don't remember that much, but I think I got a headache and went home alone, Brett staying a little longer.
That is common too, he and I pretty much never arrive at home at the same time after parties. Not because I want to go to bed early, but I get tired from all the sounds.

Brett was a little tipsy, but not overly drunk really, when he finally got back home.
I'm sure he would be welcome to stay the night with Michael, if he couldn't make his way back, but I know Brett. He prefers sleeping at home, in his own bed.
With me.
This time no exception.

In retrospect, I don't know if I can say he acted strange in any way, he seemed... ok, I guess?
A little abscent, but at the same time a little needy, claiming me to be close to him all night, I didn't know what that was all about, a little strange behaviour maybe, but I thought he was just tired and...yes, a little tipsy.
It was fine.

The day after things were WAY OFF.
I could tell from the moment I opened my eyes.
Brett was already up, having his coffee, like every day, but something was just not right.

-Good morning love. D'you sleep well? , I tried, wrapping my arms around him from behind. He usually loves that, he NEVER shrugs me off.
Well, he didn't quite do that now either, but he... you know, felt different. He was tense, broke free from me, sat down at the table, pretending like he had work to do.
(Oh, come oooon, I knew he was just acting! )
-I guess so, he said softly, shrugged his shoulders.
-Something wrong? My stomach tensed up, my whole body did, it felt hard to breathe, you know, like the air feels right before a storm is coming in at maximum power.
-No? I'm... busy.
-Whatever.

I tried to act like I didn't know. He clearly needed some time to think about... you know, something, I didn't know. But I knew he couldn't be like that for always!
So I just took a shower, breakfast, and started the day, with a slight headache and an upset stomach. Tried treating myself after a night out.

-Eddy, we need to talk.
-Ok?

Do I need to tell you that after being with Brett for 15 years, I know him well. I know him better than myself. I can tell something really bad is coming up when he that voice and says those words.