“Ben,” Ari said sharply, his voice sounding harsher to his own ears than he had intended it to. “Stop.” He knew what Ben was doing – he was being noble about this, trying to bear the brunt of the blame – but it wasn’t true. Ben hadn’t forced him to do anything; Ben hadn’t gotten married; Ben had nothing to do with this. They might be in Ben’s house, but this was, really, between him and Dionisia.
Or – maybe it would be easier if this was all Ben’s fault. If he tried, he could almost believe it. Because Ari had been perfectly ready to commit to married life – with maybe not passion, but loyalty and devotion – if Ben hadn’t picked that fucking moment to realise he had any feelings. Ari had waited years to hear it, had given up on the possibility long ago. So if Ben hadn’t come to see him that night, Ari would have married Dionisia and they would have raised Elliott (and he would have still been achingly lonely, maybe) but he would have been entirely honest with her, so they would have had something real. Or – if Ben had only admitted there was something between them sooner, then Ari might never have offered to marry her, he might have happily been a bachelor forever – he would have taken that risk to be with Ben and have something real.
Instead, Ari realised anew, he had been caught up in both at once without being brave enough to choose between them, or to be honest with anyone. Half the truth had never been enough – what did any of the half-truths he’d confessed count for now? Lying by omission was lying just the same. (Though Dionisia could say she wouldn’t have been mad, but if she knew Ari had been with Ben the whole time, there was no way she wouldn’t have hated him for it.) “I – didn’t know how to tell you,” he said, contrite. He’d been selfish for years, a coward and a hypocrite, and she’d found out anyway. Now she really never would forgive him.
And so – so he was going to lose Dionisia or Ben here, if not them both. And not just them, but even –
Elliott. Ari’s face creased in almost physical pain. Elliott was sick – needed to go to the hospital – and Ari had been here, a world away. If he needed another reason to be disgusted with himself, that was it. Ben’s house was suddenly the last place on earth he wanted to be, and Dio wanted him to stay?
“He’s sick?” His voice cracked. He spotted a shirt on the floor and threw it on, making a mess of aligning the buttons in his haste. “Dionisia, please – I’ll come with you. Please let me help.” He didn’t know if begging her would work, but if Elliott was ill, surely the rest of this argument could wait?
Or – maybe it would be easier if this was all Ben’s fault. If he tried, he could almost believe it. Because Ari had been perfectly ready to commit to married life – with maybe not passion, but loyalty and devotion – if Ben hadn’t picked that fucking moment to realise he had any feelings. Ari had waited years to hear it, had given up on the possibility long ago. So if Ben hadn’t come to see him that night, Ari would have married Dionisia and they would have raised Elliott (and he would have still been achingly lonely, maybe) but he would have been entirely honest with her, so they would have had something real. Or – if Ben had only admitted there was something between them sooner, then Ari might never have offered to marry her, he might have happily been a bachelor forever – he would have taken that risk to be with Ben and have something real.
Instead, Ari realised anew, he had been caught up in both at once without being brave enough to choose between them, or to be honest with anyone. Half the truth had never been enough – what did any of the half-truths he’d confessed count for now? Lying by omission was lying just the same. (Though Dionisia could say she wouldn’t have been mad, but if she knew Ari had been with Ben the whole time, there was no way she wouldn’t have hated him for it.) “I – didn’t know how to tell you,” he said, contrite. He’d been selfish for years, a coward and a hypocrite, and she’d found out anyway. Now she really never would forgive him.
And so – so he was going to lose Dionisia or Ben here, if not them both. And not just them, but even –
Elliott. Ari’s face creased in almost physical pain. Elliott was sick – needed to go to the hospital – and Ari had been here, a world away. If he needed another reason to be disgusted with himself, that was it. Ben’s house was suddenly the last place on earth he wanted to be, and Dio wanted him to stay?
“He’s sick?” His voice cracked. He spotted a shirt on the floor and threw it on, making a mess of aligning the buttons in his haste. “Dionisia, please – I’ll come with you. Please let me help.” He didn’t know if begging her would work, but if Elliott was ill, surely the rest of this argument could wait?
