10 Days [Brallon]

Hang Gliding Regrets

The little bell I'd bought the other day clinked against the top of the door frame. I almost didn't hear it from the back room, but surprise, I did. For once.

"Brendon, you said you'd pick me up at 4, not noon-" I turned the corner to not-Brendon, but Ryan.

He smiled sheepishly and waved from the front of my store, carefully making his way to the counter as if he were afraid one wrong step could send him falling through a booby trap.

What if I set booby traps? That would be cool, like really cool, but I'd probably get arrested for a law I didn't know existed let alone had broken. So no.

"I, uh, heard you're the person to go to for flowers?"

"That's what I've heard too. What do you need?"

He glanced up to the list hanging above my head for a minute, sifting through the meanings behind the few flowers listed. "Got any that mean 'I'm sorry I participated in helping someone cheat on you without knowing it'?"

"I'm afraid not, but I do have some that mean 'it's fine, I trust you, I'm not mad, and it wasn't your fault'" I said and Ryan's posture immediately relaxed.

But like, I was mad. Just not as mad as I had been for some reason, and definitely not mad at Ryan. I remembered what he told me when I asked if he would murder Brendon given the opportunity, and I believed him when he said he always asked before he laid a hand on him. So far he'd held up that end of the nonexistent bargain.

Also Brendon confessed to issuing the cheating.

"Can I get you anything else?"

Ryan shook his head no, leaning over the counter a little and humming quietly. "Actually I wanted to give you something, if that's alright."

For gods sake I don't need anything else. No expensive presents, no dogs, no more air conditioning machines, no-

Ryan pulled a folded Polaroid photo from his back pocket, white lines creasing through the center. It was the one Brendon had framed in his hallway, when he'd taken me to the beach and had a passerby take a picture of us.

"The night when you found out what he'd - what he and I - had done, he tore apart his place. Boy, he was so fucking upset that night. I don't know if it was because he'd been angry with himself or if he was taking his fear of losing you out on his belongings, but I found this stuck against my bedroom window. I guess it flew out of the frame by accident, and I wanted to give it to you." He laughed quietly to himself, shutting his eyes and reminiscing in the memory "I heard him cleaning the next day - the whole morning in fact, from like 3 to 6 in the morning. And he threw out 8 containers of Clorox wipes after that, and at least 4 trash bags."

Ryan held out the photo to me, pressing it gently into my palm with a sincere smile. I stared at him, then the picture, then back to him. I wasn't sure why he was giving this to me. I thought he wanted Brendon?

So I asked and he shook his head no. "You should see the way he looks at you. He's always going to be yours."

I leaned over the counter and wrapped him in a full on hug, which he returned without a second thought. We stayed there for about a minute before he pushed away, still grinning even though regret filled his gaze.

"I never really loved him in that way. I really liked him but... I felt like I needed to protect him, y'know? Make him happy? His issues with contamination and symmetry, sometimes even the obsessive counting and repetition. He called it OCD once I think, which is fine, I don't mind that he has it, but ever since he told me I acted different towards him. Almost as if I had to watch over him like a parent would."