Cornered
Chapter 3: Sticks and Stones
The phone rang twice before being picked up, a man’s voice on the other end. Yamato swallowed, controlling the slight uncertainty in his voice. “Um, is Sora there?”
“Is this Yamato?”
Matt gulped. “Y-Yes. Is Sora there?”
The other voice turned emotionless, cold. “She’s here, but I’m not sure if I want you to talk to her. You’ve hurt her already.”
Yamato looked thankfully at his locked apartment door. “I’m sorry sir, but this is very important. Could you at least ask her if she would talk to me?”
“Fine.” There was a lull on the line, background music of sizzling and shuffling. Sora’s voice cut abruptly through the lulling domestic melody. “Matt?”
Yamato winced; she had the inflection in her voice, the one that meant she was hurt and pissed off. “Yeah, it’s me. I need to talk to you…about us…about everything.”
“Fine. Go on.”
“This is really important and I want to talk to you face to face.”
“At your apartment. When?”
Matt cast a quick glance at the red numbers on his alarm clock. “In an hour?”
Sora’s voice was quick, final. “Fine. In an hour.” The sharp click of the phone being replaced reminded Yamato of being stung by a bee.
Matt depressed the button, waiting for the dial tone. Quickly, he jabbed in the next phone number, licking his dry lips. On the third ring, Hikari’s irritated voice drifted over the line. “You’re such an ass Tai.” She laughed guiltily into the line. “Sorry, I mean, who is it?”
“Oh Kari, it’s Matt. Can I speak to Taichi?”
Kari’s voice dropped its anger, the sound of the receiver being pressed against cloth. A second later after a few muffled words, Tai’s voice appeared, careful and mincing. “Matt?”
Yamato swallowed a dry mouthful of air, the sudden infusion of incongruity between him and Tai spanning like an ocean. Their relationship had taken an off ramp into a place without rules or directions, a place that was dark and unforgiving. He fought to control his voice and stop the stutter that weighted his tongue. “Yeah, it’s me. We need to talk about things. Can you get to my apartment in a couple of hours?”
Tai sounded timid, uncharacteristically frightened, unsteady. “Uh, yeah, sure. I’ll be there. Bye.”
“Bye.” Click. Another sting. Yamato surveyed his apartment with distaste, hefting a large pile of garbage from the table and dropping it into the wastepaper basket, all the while thinking of his impending discussion with Sora. None of the possible scenarios let both of them off unscathed. He shook his head discouragingly and continued to clean up.
Yamato avoided Sora’s eye contact as he let her pass into the apartment. She walked rigidly in, a hard silence on her lips. They sat without speaking, drawing on whatever courage laying around to talk. Sora broke the silence first, one quiet loaded word. “Why?”
Matt sighed. “It wasn’t right Sora.”
She was disbelieving. “Wasn’t right? Like our seven years together weren’t right?”
“No, it’s just not that simple.”
“You don’t love me?” It wasn’t so much a question as an accusation.
“I thought I did. I thought I loved you.”
Sora was angry, spitting out her words. “Thought? Seven years you thought you were in love with me? I don’t get it.”
Matt groped for an answer, but was unable to find a more harmless one other than the stark truth. “I care a lot about you Sora, a lot. And I convinced myself that I did love you all these years.”
“So what changed?”
“At the wedding I just realized that maybe it wasn’t love, that I might have fooled myself to see you more than a friend.”
Sora was tearfully frustrated, her hands wringing themselves wildly. “I still don’t understand. What could’ve happened at the wedding to make you suddenly change your mind?” She stopped short, backtracking in her thoughts, striking out with venom. “It was Taichi! What did he say about me? What did he say to change your mind?”
Matt shook his head hard. “No, it’s not like that. He didn’t say anything about you. In fact, he told me to go marry you.”
“Then what the hell was it?!”
“It was…it was the fact that he said he loved me.”
Sora’s mouth unhinged on its own accord, dropping. “That’s it? You’re gay?”
“Gay, bi, I don’t really know, and don’t really care. I just started to realize that day that I may love him back. The feelings I have for you just don’t compare to those I have for him.”
Sora had dried her eyes, only sniffing quietly. “Did you love him all through the years we were dating?”
Yamato froze. “I-I think I did, but I kept denying it to myself.”
Sora finished his trail of reasoning. “So you insisted to yourself that you loved me?”
Matt nodded, looking down to his lap. “I’m very sorry Sora; you know I wouldn’t intentionally hurt you like this.”
“But you did hurt me, didn’t you? All because you couldn’t make yourself face the fact that you might have liked Taichi.” Sora leaned forward, elbows on her knees, head cradled in her hands. Her voice had lost its strength, now broken and low. “You’ve really hurt me Yamato. You’ve led me on for years and then leave me on our wedding day. I don’t know if I can ever forgive you.”
“Sora…”
“No, if I can ever forgive you, it’ll take a long time.” She got up quickly, the sharp rustle of her clothes. In a second of fatality, she walked out and slammed the door shut behind her.
Yamato slumped down onto the sofa. This was the lowest he’d ever felt. He couldn’t even imagine being in Sora’s position. Dating someone for seven years and have them leave you on your wedding day and a month later to find out that they never loved you in the first place. He couldn’t have hurt her more if he had tried and there wasn’t any quick fix cure that might miraculous salvage their friendship. He screwed up big time. The minutes passed by without consulting him, the hour reprieve dwindling in the sweep of the long minute hand.
The grating buzz of the doorbell shocked Matt from his depressed near slumber. He knew that whatever happened in the span of the next quarter hour basically determined if there was at least some hope at finding that silver lining. He swung open the door, Tai’s shadowed figure apprehensive in the hall. Taichi’s shoulders were sagging, his eyes cast downward in defeat. “Come in.” Yamato watched Taichi drag himself into the apartment like a wounded animal. Anger rose in Matt; this wasn’t Tai, this frightened creature that shirked from everything. And this certainly wasn’t what Yamato needed; he needed strength, courage, someone to support him, and Tai obviously wasn’t a tapable reservoir right now.
Taichi slipped onto the couch, refusing to make eye contact. Yamato took the seat directly next him. This was not Taichi, this sniveling thing. Yamato deciding to go on the attack, provoke Taichi enough to regain his personality, reestablish their friendship through anger. It’d worked before and he hoped it would this time. “I’m angry with you Tai.” Tai nodded and lowered his head accordingly, his folding only serving to annoy Matt more. “At least seven years you’ve felt this way about me, and you didn’t even make one attempt to tell me. Not one.” Tai flinched. “And you were going to keep your mouth shut and let me marry Sora without a second thought about confessing. I had to force it out of you, and only after I had to use the friendship card. That isn’t how you treat someone you love. You don’t not tell them how you feel. In fact, I don’t know if I even believe you when you say you love me. If you really loved me, you would’ve told me long ago.”
Tai’s head shot up, eyes blazing under a thin sheen of moisture. He roughly rubbed away at the incipient tears, face contorted in defiant rage. His voice was hoarse and upset. “How dare you think that I don’t love you?! I kept my mouth shut for seven years just so you could be happy. I was going to rip my heart in half just to see you fucking walk down the aisle. Do you have a fucking clue how hard it was to walk home alone in the cold after your engagement party after a night of stupid smiles and fake cheer? Or seeing you and Sora together at the altar and knowing there was no chance in hell for me? If that’s not love, I must be a fucking masochist.”
Matt suppressed an amused chuckle. The fire had exploded, the warm heat, the intense feeling of connection throwing them back into familiar territory. “Do you still love me?” he asked softly.
Tai laughed incredulously at the ridiculousness of the question. “Haven’t you heard a single word of what I’ve just been saying?”
Yamato leaned in closer, staring into Tai’s impassioned eyes. “I just needed to be sure.” He moved forward, tentatively pressing his lips firmly to Tai’s. It was a brief exchange, awkward in the naiveté of the situation, but innocently heartfelt. Tai’s breath hung heavy in Matt’s face when Matt pulled out of the kiss, staring into puzzled brown eyes. “I think I love you too.”
Taichi blinked, face draining of its angry flush and replaced by a soft warmth. He smiled goofily, bordering on dazed idiocy. He opened his mouth to speak but decided against it with a shake of the head, and smirking, launched himself at Matt, crashing both of them into the sofa cushions. He looked down at Matt, curiously predatory and kissed him breathlessly.
After an immeasurable amount of time needed for Tai to purge his pent up feelings, they reluctantly sat up on the couch. Taichi had a firm grasp of one of Yamato’s hands, fingers entwining soothingly. He passed his tongue over his lips, aware of himself slightly panting. His voice was low. “Did you settle everything with Sora?”
Matt tensed, his satisfied smile fading, supplanted by a grimace. “I’ve made a huge mess of things with her. She’s really upset and it’s all my fault. She said she might never forgive me.”
Taichi nodded. “She’s just hurting; I’m sure it’s her pain talking. I don’t think she could ever really stay angry forever. It’ll just take some time.” He paused. “If you think it’ll help I’ll talk to her and apologize.”
“No, don’t. I think it’s best if we left her alone for a while. Besides, you’re not to blame. I would’ve broken her heart sooner or later.”
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The sun had dipped beneath the horizon, the living room bathed in blue light. Taichi had flipped on the television, the jumping images throwing strange light against his face, eyes hollowed out into dark holes, his skin scoured white. Yamato smiled to himself and shifted closer to Taichi, resting his head on the other’s shoulder. In response, an arm encircled his waist and kept him pressed up against Tai’s rising and falling chest. Yamato, feeling extremely content, even with his heart thumping uncontrollably in his throat, sank into the cushions and watched the TV movie with half lidded eyes. He wasn’t sure if he heard Taichi say ‘I love you’ but it was enough to fall asleep in his arms.
On to Chapter 4
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