You And I: Family Time

Connor XII

I knew Zoe had gone to see Troye the morning after I'd talked to him. I knew she wanted me to try talking to him again, but I couldn't bring myself to. Not for another week. 

It was two weeks after he'd told me before I finally felt like I could see him again. 

Zoe drove me home on Sunday afternoon so I could talk to Troye. The whole way, I focused on breathing slowly. I felt like I was going to have a panic attack. When we pulled into the driveway, Zoe turned to me.

"Okay, I'm not coming in. This has to be between you and Troye. But I'll be right out here if you feel the need to leave. Just remember, let him talk and don't interrupt him."

"I'll try." I promised. "Thanks for driving me."

"Anytime. Now, go and talk to him. You'll feel so much better after, I think." Giving her a quick hug, I pushed open the car door and started walking towards the house. I barely even felt my feet touching the ground as I walked, this all seemed so surreal.

Unlike last time I was here, I didn't let myself in. I knocked on the door and waited patiently for Troye to answer. When he finally opened the door, I noticed that he'd cleaned himself up since last weekend and was dressed in something other than week-old sweatpants and t-shirt.

"Connor. Hey." He smiled slightly when he saw me but I didn't return the smile.

"Troye." I didn't let any emotions show and I saw a flash of hurt in his eyes but he stood to the side to let me in. Throwing a last glance over my shoulder, I saw Zoe give me a thumbs up and sighed. "I'll listen to what you have to say, but I'm not making any promises that it'll change anything."

"I know." He bit his lip and looked me straight in the eye. "I just want to say, first, that I love you, Connor. I always will. Nothing will ever change that."

"Okay." I saw him blink back tears but didn't say anything more. Instead, I crossed the room, heading to the sofa where I sat, perched on the edge. I saw him debating with himself whether to sit beside me or not. Clearly he decided not to and sat on the sofa opposite me.

"Connor, I know that you're hurt by this and I couldn't be more sorry. But I need you to know exactly what happened in LA. I think that's what's upset me the most these last two weeks; the fact that you still don't know what really happened."

"You cheated on me. That's all I need to know."

"Actually, after talking to Zoe, I have to say, I don't think what happened really counts as cheating."

"Cheating is cheating, Troye."

"Do you trust Zoe?"

"More than I trust you right now."

"Then you have to know that she'd never ask you to see me if she didn't think I had something worth hearing."

"Maybe. Or maybe I was right all along and she really is on your side before me." Troye shook his head.

"No. I've known Zoe a long time and if someone hurts a person she loves, she will shut them out of her life, no matter how close they were."

"Okay." I sighed and picked at a thread on my t-shirt. "What exactly do you have to say to me that will supposedly change this?"

"I need you to promise me something before I tell you."

"You want me to promise you something?" I scoffed and he nodded.

"Yes. I need you to promise that you'll listen to the whole story before you go jumping to any conclusions." The way he looked at me then, eyes wide made me want to kiss him but I held myself back.

"Fine. But you have ten minutes. Then I'm out of here and I'm not coming back."

"Whatever you decide. I know this is hard for you and I'll respect any decision you make, as long as you hear me out first."

"I already said I will. Ten minutes." I wanted this over with so I could leave and never have to come back.

"Okay, well you already know some of it. The guy was drunk and there was dancing involved but it's not as bad as it sounds. At first, I just thought he was being friendly and when he asked if I wanted to dance, I said yes because I figured it wouldn't mean anything. I mean, I dance with random guys all the time when I'm performing. You know that."

"I do."

"Well we were just dancing, I was keeping my distance, or trying to. I asked him what his name was because he hadn't told me and he knew who I was. He kind of flirted with me but I just ignored it because he was drunk. Eventually he told me his name and the next thing I know, he's grabbed me and kissing me. I guess my automatic reaction was to kiss him back, but only for a moment before my mind caught up with what was happening. Then I pushed him off me." He looked up at me, searching for any kind of reaction but I kept my face blank.

"And?"

"I told him I was married and he started going on about how I wouldn't have said yes to dancing with him if I was happily married. I told him he was a jerk and then I left. I went back to the hotel, packed my bags and caught the next flight home. That's what happened. That's the whole story."

"Nothing else happened?"

"No. And the kiss was barely even a kiss on my part. It was just like when I kiss the kids goodnight."

"Why were you even there in the first place?"

"Where? In LA?"

"No, in the bar or club or whatever."

"The bar. Because I was just planning on having a drink before my flight home and relaxing a little bit."

"Relaxing as in hooking up with some random guy?"

"No, Connor, I'd never do that to you. I just, it had been a long day in the studio and I wanted to just clear my mind for a moment. I promise you, when I went to that bar, I never thought I'd end up leaving having had another guy kiss me."

"Troye, I..." I didn't know what to say. I'd heard everything he'd told me and it all made sense. If he'd told me all that in the first place, I think I would have forgiven him straight away because I could see it wasn't his fault. But now, I'd spent so much time thinking he'd done so much worse. 

Now I was the bad guy. I was the one who hadn't let him explain. I was the one who'd overreacted. I was the one who slapped him; I could even see the last traces of a bruise just under his eye and a healing scar where my wedding ring must have cut him.

He stared at me, trying to figure out what I was thinking. I stared back, unable to think of anything to say to him.