Taking a Stand

LEONARD:

‘Explain things to Bernard?’

Eric thinks talking to Bernard would be cheap? And what exactly does he intend to say? Ask him to forget all they had because he is in love with his friend?

Has Eric always been a dummy, or is he refusing to see the mess he’s made? He’s pulled Bernard and me into a suffocating triangle, forcing us to meet each other with racing hearts for the first time.

I arrived at Vinelight first, as I wanted. Ordered food I knew neither Bernard nor I would touch. He wouldn’t have the appetite, and me…I wouldn’t dare fill up the space that was meant for the food waiting for me in the office.

Exactly. I would be claiming that lunchbox as soon as I get back.

Bernard slid into the chair opposite me, clearly avoiding my eyes.

“You don’t look good, man,” I said.

He looked worse than Eric. I had never seen him like this—It was disturbing.

“And you’re healthy,” he shot back. “I suppose the whole backstab was meant for me.”

“Don’t be sassy.”

“I look like a woman, too. Great.”

I exhaled heavily and signalled the waitress. “A bottle of gin,” I ordered.

Bernard was at a breaking point. He was suffering the most. The least I could do was sit on the edge with him. He deserved that much.

Two shots burned down my throat. Bernard followed my lead, then attacked the food after his third.

I had been wrong—he was eating. But not from hunger. From frustration.

“This is tasty,” he mumbled, mouth full.

I passed him a tissue as crumbs fell. “Easy, will you?”

“But he is tastier,” he sobbed, loud enough to draw stares. “Eric was tastier.”

The whole place turned to watch. Well, they’d been staring since the ‘gay’ Leonard Hays walked in. Bernard’s outburst only ignited their curiosity even more. It was my fault for failing to book out the entire space. But who would have thought Bernard would cry in public?

“Leo,” he sniffed. “Why did Eric play Lucia? Was it for Erica? For you? What was that drama about?”

I told him. He already knew they were siblings. The rest—the twin game, Jimmy’s trip to uncover more—were merely additional details.

“Do you know why he truly broke up with me?” he asked after a pause.

I had no answer. Or maybe I did, but it wasn’t mine to give.

Eric wasn’t a dummy after all. He needed to explain this himself.

“I don’t know,” I lied.

He nodded sadly. “He isn’t taking my calls. He isn’t answering my messages. He isn’t reaching out.”

That’s what a breakup is supposed to look like. But I couldn’t say it.

Eric didn’t even have his phone—he hadn’t when I pulled him out of his apartment. Unless he utilised the hotel’s phone and dialled from memory, there was no way he’d call anyone.

“I need to see him,” Bernard said, straightening. “Take me to him.”

I grabbed my glass cup and emptied it.

“He’s in your hotel, right? Which one?”

Bernard’s voice was urgent, his eyes searching mine.

“Did you send him out of the city?”

“No,” I said.

“Leonard, tell me you didn’t lock him up somewhere?”

“He’s safe.”

“Where?”

“You can’t see him…”

My words shoved him back into his chair. He swallowed hard.

“You think that’s the best?” He asked quietly.

“I think…you shouldn’t see him.”

My jaw tightened around the words. Bernard understood at once. “See” meant more than its simple meaning.

“Do you have something to tell me?” His eyes narrowed.

I reached for another shot. He watched my trembling hand.

“Leonard?”

“Seeing Eric isn’t the best step now. Wait until everything settles.”

Bernard wasn’t stupid. He read me like an open verse.

“Did you two…?” he started.

“What? Have sex?” I cut in.

“I was going to say ’talk’. But it seems you were more involved than I thought. Did you always know Lucia was Eric?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You’re the ridiculous one. All I hear is you confirming the rumours. Are you into men, Leonard?”

“I’m not into any man.”

“Are you in love with Eric?”

“I’m not gay!”

“I asked if you are in love with Eric!”

“What’s the difference?”

“None,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Still, I dare you to answer the question.”

“I said…I’m not gay.”

He shot to his feet. I sat frozen.

“Eric is mine,” he fumed. “If you still value this friendship, stay away from him.”

His heavy steps carried him out, leaving me slumped in my chair, exhaling the breath I’d been holding.

This was tougher than I expected. Saying I wasn’t gay was true—but refusing to admit I wasn’t in love with Eric made it feel like a lie.

The last thing I wanted was to hurt Bernard further. But if Eric’s feelings were real, Bernard’s heart would break regardless. However, my uncertainty and indecision would deepen his wound. I needed to clear the fog in my head and heart. I needed to take a stand.

I drove back to the office, impatient to deal with everything. But Eric’s restful body wiped the urgency off me. He was curled on the couch, fast asleep under a blanket.

“Where is everyone?” I asked as Tracey’s heels clicked behind me.

“Home, sir.”

“Home?”

“It’s past seven.”

I blinked. Checked my watch. She was right.

I must’ve sat for hours in the restaurant after Bernard left. Thanks to the bright atmosphere, I didn’t notice the change in time.

“I kept you late. I’m sorry.”

“It’s my job, sir.”

My gaze lingered on Eric, still and peaceful. Tracey must’ve tucked him in.

“Thank you,” I said softly. “You can retire now.”

“Good night, sir.”

As she turned to leave, my eyes fell on the lunchbox.

“Tracey?”

“Yes.”

“Can you heat the food?”

“Of course.”