Brotherly Advice
CLYVE
I LOOKED UP in the sky. The sky was better than my emotions-it was clear and blue. I couldn’t just wash it out from my system. I was terrible at moving on especially when someone I thought what we had was more than just sex.
“Why-” I breathed deeply. I felt like I was going to have a panic attack. I couldn’t even breathe on how it hurt me a lot. “Why did you think I was so hurt?”
“I was hurt, too.”
“Well, not the way I feel. If you can cheat on someone-”
“Damn you!” She pushed me on my chest, causing me to wrap my arms around her. “I am not cheating on Keene! I married him because that was the only way I could help him.”
“But you are still married, Westley. That’s the truth. Marriage is not just a piece of paper. It’s sacred. And you made a bow, remember? To have and to hold, for this day forward, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health-‘”
“You are so damn righteous that you don’t understand.”
“It doesn’t matter if I understand or not. I can’t be with you. Just so you know, I haven’t moved on. I can’t even get over you even if I tried. I don’t know why or how, or I just don’t wanna let you go. I haven’t slept with anyone after you. I almost kissed you in that room because I was so tempted that made my head buzz, burned my skin, constricted my lungs, and the funny thing was, I couldn’t do it because it was wrong. I wished I was like those people who could sleep with anyone with no strings attached. But I felt guilty. I felt like I cheat on you when I think of going and fucking someone else. That’s how much you mean to me. Until at this very moment.”
* * *
“YOU LOOK like shit.” Skip placed a bottle of beer and a can of soda on top of my counter. “Do you sleep well?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Do I look like a bloody zombie?”
He grinned. “You’re tense. Something’s wrong with what you’re working on?” I had a theory that Arella sent him here. He came unannounced most of the time but never brought beers because he knew that was the last thing he would take with him.
“Nah.” I rubbed my palms against my jeans. “There was no progress. I still need advertisements once the whole place is renovated. I have a lot of things to do, Skip, and I need to focus. I need to convince those people who need therapy to engage in art than wasting their lives on drugs, and depression, and keeping their horrors to themselves. Yesterday, I contacted another artist if he’s willing to post his works, but I might still need your help.”
He smiled. “Might?”
I rolled my eyes and drank my soda. “You are the famous CEO,” I quoted in the air. “You might know some famous artists who are willing to show up and put their paintings into the exhibit during the launching. For free.”
“Absobloodylutely. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“Just let them know that the gallery is not all about me. I might profit from the sale, but half of it would go to charity.”
“You’re such a good person, Clyve. I’m so chuffed.” He gripped my shoulder. “Now, let’s talk about the love who put that tension on you.”
“Pardon me?”
“Don’t lie. Not your strong suit anyway. I know you and Arella are talking. I might not be good at giving advice and probably half of it is just rubbish, but come on, brotha. You never kept secrets from me.” He took his phone from his suit pocket and typed. “Or I will call Mum to come over.”
I grabbed the phone from him. “It’s the same woman from that town you and Are threw me to.”
“Brill.” He crossed his arm over his chest and rubbed his beard. “Then what’s wrong?”
“She’s married.”
Skip’s posture stiffened, jaw dropped dramatically, then blinked.
“See? That’s why I didn’t wanna tell you.” I looked away and sighed with frustration.
“How long have you known?”
“That she’s married? After we arrived here.”
“And this relationship started since you were there?”
I nodded.
“Is she sleeping with her husband? I mean, are they still together?”
“This is so awkward.” I grimaced at the thought of Keene being balls-deep with Westley.
“Because you made it awkward. Tell me, brotha.”
“You are as nosy as Arella. To answer your question, I don’t know if they’re sleeping, okay?” My voice raised. “The bloody I want to know. Aren’t they supposed to shag? They’re married for bloody sake!”
“And the problem is?”
“I like her!” I stood up and paced around my kitchen. “Sobloodymuch, and she likes me as well.”
“But they’re still living together.”
“This the worse pep-talk I ever have. No one would suspect them because they look like brother and sister, or just best friends.” I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration as I let my mind flip through the pages. “I never suspected them. I never saw them snogging. They clearly care for each other, deeply, and Keene didn’t seem to care that I was showing interest towards Westley-”
“Hold on. Your landlord is Keene, right? And the husband of the babe you like?”
“Yes. They don’t wear wedding bands.”
Skip chuckled. “I see.”
“What’s so funny when I can’t think straight, Skip?”
“You’re funny, brotha.”
“Then I found out Westley’s a rich kid. They call her Harry Bloom.”
“Harry Bloom? How is she related to Lyndon Bloom?”
I stared at Skip with pure shock. “You know her father?”
“Yes. The district attorney for three years turned district representative, of course. I met him once. I heard he has no plan to run for 2021. You should probably use your Google search, Clyve. It’s helpful.” He scratched me with his hypocrisy.
“Stop mocking me. Shouldn’t you be giving me your rubbish advice?”
“I told you my real expertise is not giving advice, but one thing I can tell you is to follow your guts, Clyve. I wonder why you haven’t encountered Lyndon Bloom through your social media. Anyway, did you check Ry-Ry’s Insta? Sweet baby, my girl just posted her picture with Arella. Love that girl so much it bloody hurts.”
I looked at Skip. His different-colored eyes were glossy with pride and love towards his girls. He definitely loved his child and Arella, no doubt. His life is perfect. He had everything. And he just shoved it right into my face.
“So, tell me something about Westley.”
Before I could start, the doorbell went off. Saved by the bell.