Unknown Feelings (Fred Coury x Eric Brittingham)

66. Though We Went Our Separate Ways

ERIC'S POV:

June 29, 1992, Philadelphia.

As I stepped out of my car and inhaled the crisp morning air, a potent blend of excitement and nervousness enveloped my surroundings.

Or perhaps, I pondered as a peculiar sensation churned within the depths of my stomach, those heightened emotions were merely confined to my own being. Uncertainty shrouded my thoughts like a dense fog, yet here I stood, an eager participant in this enigmatic journey.

My car rested in its designated spot within the clinic's parking lot, where Fred went to get the baby checked out.

This was our first time seeing the baby since our separation. To be perfectly candid, the sensation of peculiarity engulfed us as we disembarked from our respective automobiles, for this peculiar act symbolized the novel manner in which we were now accustomed to living. Each one of us had forged an individual path henceforth, embracing a distinct existence and identity.

It was an immensely arduous experience, without a doubt. On that initial evening, an indelible memory etched in my mind, slumber eluded me completely. It became the epitome of solitude, surpassing any instance of desolation I had encountered in recent memory. I had grown accustomed to embracing the comforting warmth of Fred's physique. Despite his relatively diminutive stature compared to mine, our bodies interlocked flawlessly, forming a seamless union. Recollections flood back as I recollect the sheer bliss of nestling my head within the gentle curve where his neck meets his shoulder and absorbing the delightful fragrance that emanated from him.

With a sense of finality and anticipation, I inhaled deeply, allowing the air to fill my lungs before proceeding to seize hold of the handle adorning the door. As I cautiously crossed the threshold into the room, my eyes instinctively scanned the area in search of Fred's presence. Upon spotting him amidst the milieu, a deliberate slowness permeated my movements as I endeavored to draw nearer to his vicinity. Our gazes met, prompting a tender yet somewhat awkward exchange of smiles, each carrying its unspoken sentiments. Finally settling myself beside him, an internal struggle ensued as I restrained any impulse to reach out and clasp his hand - an act that had become customary for me over time.

As soon as I took a seat, an uncomfortable and palpable silence descended upon the atmosphere, enveloping the space between us. In response to this discomfiting stillness, I found myself immobilized in my chair, gazing downwards at the expanse of the floor right before me. In an attempt to suppress any ill-advised utterances that could potentially exacerbate the already cumbersome situation, I resorted to sinking my teeth into the tender flesh of my inner cheek.

Seeking solace from this unbearable awkwardness, I contemplated initiating a conversation with a gentle approach. With hesitant words hovering on the tip of my tongue, I began to shape a sentence.

"How..."

Unfortunately, before completing my thought, he interjected with an equally incomplete expression.

"What..."

The simultaneous eruption of these fragmented attempts at dialogue revealed a shared desire within both of us to eradicate the oppressive air of discomfort that had settled upon us like a suffocating blanket. It was abundantly clear that we yearned for relief from this torturous silence.

Using my hand, I gestured to him, indicating that he should proceed before me.

He took a brief moment, pausing before uttering any words.

"How... how are you doing?"

He cautiously inquired.

Feeling slightly hesitant, I responded with an air of uncertainty.