Dark City

11.

Tom slipped into moccasins and went out onto the porch where he swung silently on the bench swing, listening to the sounds of suburbia at night, the crickets and the occasional owl or passing car. The house was still empty at three in the morning. His dad was off drinking somewhere. And Lacey... who knew. She should have been home from her bartending gig. Maybe she was in the back of some guy's truck getting banged. He wasn't supposed to care. He wasn't supposed to inquire.

Lacey had never said "I love you" to Tom in the fourteen months they'd been together. And he had never endured that awkward feeling of saying it back before he meant it. He wanted to believe he wasn't getting serious about her, wanted to think he could move forward without her if he needed to, but as he stood there on his porch waiting for her car's headlights to turn onto his street, he knew he was fighting a losing battle.

That night he didn't sleep. He waited and waited, listening to the crickets' song give way to that of the morning birds, watching the sun illuminate the street in subtle gradients of blue light. Lacey came around a little after dawn, parking crooked in the driveway and dragging her tired self up the porch steps. She had tangles in her hair, and threads of forest debris on her clothing.

She saw Tom and offered a nonchalant nod of her head. "Something wrong, hun?"She leaned against a post in front of him, running her nails through her hair.

"I don't want an open relationship anymore," Tom said.

Lacey nodded, closing her shadow-smudged eyes. "Then, as you well know, this isn't going to work. I told you from the beginning."

She had. And for a time, polyamory had worked for Tom. He remembered back to those powerful moments they had shared in orgy rooms, kissing and screwing other people until forces greater than themselves consumed them. Finding each other again and again through a maze of bodies was a vital part of what made them so close. He trusted her. He felt something soul-wrenching when he took her. Their appetites for debauchery had made them the perfect match. But as he grew tired of that lifestyle, he assumed she had as well.

"Yeah. I know. And that's fair. Except for one thing. What the Hell happened to full fucking disclosure?" His shouting riled a dog in somebody's backyard. "I don't care who you fuck, just tell me so I don't feel like an asshole when you show up on my porch covered in some other dude's jizz!"

Lacey sneered. "You're being ridiculous."

"This isn't the city, Lacey. People here have values. And they talk."

He felt humiliated thinking she had just screwed some douchebag who went to his high school. He wanted to go back to that first night they met, the night when he had nothing to offer but his heart and that had been enough. If only he could rewind and press play over and over again forever. He could be happy reliving that first night for eternity. The past was the only place for them. They had no future together. He would never hold her heart again.

"Don't cry," she said. "You know I hate that."

"I can't do this anymore."

"Tom." Her gaze felt heavy on him. "If you let me be free, I will always come back to you. You know that."

Tom nodded helplessly. Lacey stepped toward him, opening her arms. He caved into her embrace. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Shh." As she hushed him, she ran her hand over his back and swayed softly. Her rocking put him at ease and the shame receded. He remembered his mother holding him when he was a little boy, when he was an only child before the divorce. He had been her only light in the whole world. He understood why polyamory chewed at him but he wasn't ready to admit it to himself.

____________________

Music: "Stockholm Syndrome" Muse

I knew a guy who was in a polyamorous relationship with an older woman. He adored her and had zero interest in anyone else. He tried not to be jealous when she was with her other boyfriends, but it ate him up inside.

Stockholm Syndrome was actually one of his favorite Muse songs, which is interesting because in a way he was in a relationship where he was in love with his captor.