30. The Chasm

Hunter

The pain in Hunter’s chest grew unbearable over the next six months. Most of his energy was spent attempting to stop himself from crying. If he let his guard down long enough, a funny meme, a music video, or a Kung Fu movie on television caused his throat to tighten, followed by long wails into his pillow. The isolation had a growing familiarity, gradually reducing his participation in social activities and increasing his time spent at home.

Cocaine provided him with an energy boost during workouts and a little before work to kick-start his day. Morning cocaine quickly transitioned to lunchtime cocaine, and within a few weeks, he stopped eating entirely. He noticed his clothes hanging off his frame, evidence of his muscle loss. As sleepless nights became more frequent, he gradually replaced cocaine with marijuana, which brought a soothing effect. The relaxed feeling enveloped him, melting away any stress or tension. Best of all, it helped him forget. He couldn’t think of Logan if he couldn’t think of anything.

“Hey,” Erin said, at his penthouse door, one early spring afternoon.

“What are you doing here?” Hunter asked, high, annoyed, and hardly in the mood for socializing.

“Ugh, that smell.” She grimaced, waving a hand in front of her face. “I wanted to see how you were doing. You haven’t been out with us in a while.”

“I’m fine.”

“Can I come in?” She wedged herself through the door. Hunter’s normally tidy place was a chaotic mess, with clothes and dishes strewn about. The foul stench of the neglected trash permeated the entire space, making it unbearable to be inside.

“Sorry, for the mess,” he said, plopping down on the couch.

“Neil told me it was bad. You’re lucky you have central air because this place would smell like the subway,” she nagged.

“Erin, what do you want? I didn’t invite you over.”

She ignored him, looking around. “Alright, I’m calling a cleaning service. You need to leave this place. We’re all worried about you. And you’re not eating,” she said, walking toward the kitchen.

“I don’t want anyone here, and I’m not hungry.”

“And a food service,” she said, closing the fridge door to pull out her phone. “I made you a hair appointment downstairs in thirty minutes.”

“What? No, I’m not going anywhere,” he protested.

She closed the distance between them, her steps deliberate, and her voice laced with empathy. “Hunter, I love you, but you look like shit, and you fucking stink. What’s with the beard? You look like my father. Neil’s parked downstairs waiting for you. Go wash your ass or something. I’m not kidding.” Hunter let out a loud groan and charged past her in a huff. “Yeah, be mad,” Erin said. Her phone rang. “Hello? Yes, I need someone here within the next hour.”

“Neil, what the fuck is going on?” Hunter asked Neil twenty minutes later in his car, leaving Erin behind in his condo. Neil started the car and took off, heading somewhere uptown.

“Listen, man, I’ve never seen anyone get this bad before. We can’t watch you throw your life away. But don’t worry—there are some Dominicans in Spanish Harlem who will hook your shit right up. ‘Cause I can’t be seen with you looking like this.” Neil almost laughed.

Hunter ran a hand over his scruffy beard. He hadn’t looked in a mirror in weeks. “You … know about me, right?” Hunter asked, with hesitation in his voice.

Neil browsed satellite music stations on his car radio. “These stations suck. Nah, what you mean?”

“Me and Logan.”

Neil looked forward and shrugged his shoulders. “Shit happens, right?”

“I’m not gay or anything.” Hunter denied it before Neil could think of something to say.

“Of course not. Sucking dick and ass-fucking dudes don’t make you gay at all.” Neil tried to keep a straight face and Hunter realized how silly he sounded. “Now, if you start singing show tunes and taking me to plays and shit, we’re gonna have a bit of a problem.”

Although it wasn’t exactly what he wanted to hear, Hunter couldn’t help but laugh—glad he’d left his place and glad it was with Neil.

“Listen. One, this is New York. Two, nobody cares.”

Hunter heaved out a breath to calm his nerves. “Do you have a bump?”

“You have to chill on that shit,” Neil said. “As much as I love taking your money, you’re my friend, bro.”

After the hair appointment, which took much longer than expected, Neil took him out to dinner, keeping him occupied for as long as Erin needed.

It was a quarter to ten when he dropped him back off at his place.

“I love you, man—no homo,” Neil said, amused by his own tasteless joke. Hunter’s face warmed. He hadn’t heard those words in so long. “I’m just playing. Seriously, Hunter, I love you. You need anything—you call me … and I’ll call Erin.”

“I love you, too, Neil.”

As Hunter entered his penthouse, the dramatic transformation in appearance took him back. The mess was gone, he could see the floor, and it smelled like a fancy hotel lobby.

“You’re back. What do you think?” Erin asked, beaming up at him. She then kicked it into business-mode. “The trash is gone, the kitchen is pristine, and your fridge and pantry are fully stocked.”

Her hair was tied up in a messy bun and she had no makeup on. With sleeves rolled up to her elbows, she looked as though she’d collapse at any moment.

She led him to his room by the hand. “Anything private or personal I placed in a shoebox up on the top shelf of the closet. We’ve got you new sheets, a new comforter, and new pillows. All of your clothes went to the wash-and-fold, and I took your suits and shirts to the one-hour cleaners. They’re all hanging in your closet—color coordinated.” She looked around the room proudly and then straightened a slight crease on the comforter with her hand.

Hunter was at a loss for words. He had no idea he had friends who cared about him this much, always dismissing and disregarding friendships outside of Logan, thinking of them as space fillers until he was near Logan again.

“I’m so fucking tired,” she huffed, almost nervously. “I work miracles. I had fun though. Feeling pretty accomplished right now.”

Hunter rushed to her and kissed her, and she pulled back.

“Woah, what’s that about?” she asked, bringing her fingers to her lips.

“I don’t know, I just wanted to. Do you mind?”

“No, not at all.”

Hunter leaned forward and kissed her again.

After a quick, and anticlimactic, sex session, Hunter found himself naked in bed with Erin laying on her back as they both stared up at the ceiling.

“I don’t know what I did wrong,” Hunter said, breaking the silence.

“It happens to men sometimes,” she responded, turning onto her side.

Hunter rubbed his forehead as he looked up at the ceiling. “No, I mean Logan. I don’t know what I did that was so bad. So bad to end it all.” He felt empty, although his chest was as heavy as stone. “I love him so much,” he said, his voice breaking.

She winced. “I know it hurts. Time will make things better.”

“Yes, it fucking hurts. It hurts that he’d throw it away—throw me away like I was nothing to him.”

She pushed off his body. “I should go.”

“No, no, stay? Please? I want to hold you.”

“What if I held you?” she asked. Hunter looked puzzled for a moment, and then they shifted themselves in bed, turning toward each other and Hunter buried his head in her chest. Erin wrapped one arm around his head and then trailed one down to his back, caressing him in long, stroking movements.

Hunter never thought it would be so comforting to be held. He tried his hardest to hold back the tears but all he could do was sob. Erin held him as he cried himself to sleep.

The days became easier, little by little, as his strength and appetite came back. He started to go out with his coworkers like he used to. He even became good friends with Erin, having her over a few times a month. Hunter had never had a platonic relationship with a woman before. She’d been promoted to Associate by the end of that summer, marking a year since Hunter had started with the firm.

Soon, he discovered dating apps and realized how easy it was to get a woman to come over for the night with a few exchanges. He had lost count of how many he met. Most understood it would never become anything serious, while others would get too invested. He figured that he had just not met the right one. However, every night before he fell asleep and the moment he’d wake, he had only one thing on his mind—Logan.