Raffy's POV
Mom Martha told me what James was like when I left. "Please understand, my child, James's situation. He's been waiting for you to visit for a long time. He's often by the door, anticipating your arrival. He wants to be the first to greet you. He also hangs out at the corner because he hopes to catch a glimpse of you when you come. He became melancholic, thinking you might have forgotten him. But it's good that you came today; you've proven to him that you haven't forgotten. Especially on this important day."
I continued to cry, unable to say anything. I stifled my sobs to avoid James's hearing. I could sense my parents and his siblings feeling sorry for me. But they couldn't do anything; they witnessed James's suffering when I was gone. I regretted taking so long to come and visit him.
I contemplated waiting for James, regardless of the duration. I made up my mind to inform him about my plan to spend the night there. I also sent a message to my driver, instructing them to head home. Seeking permission from Mom Martha, my heart felt lighter as she replied, "You even asked for permission to stay here, but you're already like a son to me. I wouldn't let my child sleep just anywhere." I expressed my gratitude to her.
All those conversations were whispered because I wanted to avoid James hearing them. I knew he was avoiding me. I hoped his boyfriend wouldn't be staying here; from my estimation, that guy seemed well-off and probably not used to such cramped quarters.
The couple finally emerged almost two hours later. I knew because I kept glancing at my watch. They said their goodbyes, mentioning that James would be accompanying his boyfriend home.
"Mom, I'm going to take Glenn home. I'll drop him off," James informed his parents.
"Okay, be careful, Glenn," Mom Martha cautioned.
Glenn nodded respectfully, saying, "Yes, Mom. Thank you."
Dad chimed in, "Take care. There are some sketchy people around here."
Glenn and I exchanged nods, acknowledging each other. Glenn seemed like a good guy, and he's fortunate to have James.
"We'll head out now," James said, his gaze turning to me. "By the way, is your guest not leaving yet? They might run into trouble around here."
No one replied, and the couple just left without any interruption. James took quite a while to return; more than an hour had passed.
"They're probably saying 'I love you' a hundred times over; they seem so sweet," I thought to myself.
When James finally came back, he went straight to sit beside Dad Rene. He had a half-empty case of RH beer with him, and I had no idea where he got these things. All I could gather was that he must have had a drink before coming home, given his slightly heavy step and the way he stumbled a bit while entering the door.
I remained in my spot, still seated on the bench next to the door. James handed a bottle of RH beer to Dad.
"James, let's have a drink," James suggested.
Dad nodded, "Sure, it's your birthday after all. We should celebrate. Besides, your closest friend is here too. But it seems you are already drunk, son."
James shook his head, "I'm not drunk yet, Dad. Closest friend? Who's that? I don't have a close friend. My friend has been long gone, buried, and forgotten."
As I observed, his actions seemed a bit exaggerated. I knew it took me a while to return to him. But why was he reacting like this? Did I commit such a serious offense? It's been nearly two years since we've last seen each other, so I understood his frustration. However, his anger felt disproportionate. It reminded me of my father's plea for forgiveness. I empathized with what he went through. But I wasn't like my father; I hadn't been away for that long, and I hadn't forgotten him even for a moment. In fact, I stood right in front of him, acting foolishly in the hope of catching his attention.
Mom intervened, her voice firm yet concerned, "Son, please don't speak like that. Raffy is right in front of you."
"Who's Raffy? Oh, is that your visitor? Hey, buddy, how are you? Let's have a drink." James seemed puzzled
"James, I'm sorry." Raffy's voice trembled with apology.
"Sorry? Sorry for what? You haven't done anything to me. Who are you? Do you even know me? Let's have a drink, buddy, stop acting like that." James's tone was a mix of confusion and irritation.
Raffy's plea was earnest, "Please, just hear me out. I'll explain why I only returned now."
James's frustration was palpable, "Seriously, you're so dramatic, like a girl with all this. Stop it already. You're not at fault here. You don't need to apologize or explain anything."
"Mom, could you give me a hand?" Dad sought Mom Martha's assistance to enter the room.
With their parents preoccupied, James turned back to his seat, a hint of exasperation in his actions.
"I hope you can forgive me, James. Please!" Raffy's words were filled with a mixture of hope and regret.
"Oh, you're being a pain, huh? You're so persistent. Just leave, you're ruining my birthday. SCREW YOU!" In contrast, James's response was sharp and harsh.
Mom's reprimand was stern, "JAMES, STOP USING FOUL LANGUAGE. I NEVER TAUGHT YOU THAT. Talk properly, not like that."
James looked apologetically at his mom, "I'm sorry, Mom. It won't happen again. Your guest here is just persistent."
Mom Martha remained silent this time, understanding her son's emotions. She was angry, but she also knew it wasn't a true reflection of his character. She simply wanted to convey to him that even if they didn't actively participate in the conversation, they still heard every word spoken.
Raffy's voice held a mix of regret and explanation, "I couldn't come back right away because they immediately sent me for schooling. They needed me in the company. I'm sorry, James, I didn't mean for us to be apart this long. I never forgot about you, not even for a moment."
James's response was cold and resolute, "I told you there's no need for explanations. We're not acquainted anymore. I've erased you from my life, so you should do the same."
Raffy's plea was heartfelt, "I can't do that, James. Please, I can't. Please forgive me. I love you so much, James, that's why I can't just forget you like that."
I couldn't fathom where that surge of affection came from within me. Yet when those words escaped my lips, they sounded less like a friend's sentiment and more like the genuine confession of someone deeply in love. I grappled with the exact meaning behind my words, but I chose not to retract them; instead, I found myself spontaneously kneeling in front of him.
"Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!" I blurted out, my voice heavy with regret.
James regarded me with understanding, "Ah, I think I understand your intentions now."
As I remained on my knees, he stood up. Slowly, he removed his shirt and unfastened his belt. With a deliberate motion, he undid his pants' buttons and lowered the zipper.
"So, this is what you're after, isn't it?" he remarked, his hand gently brushing against the area.
"It feels good, particularly when it's hard. It's also rather huge, so I'm confident it'll provide satisfaction. Is this what you desire? Do you long to experience my companionship? Embrace the moment and be candid," he softly suggested.
He continued, his words becoming more explicit and demeaning. "Many gays are into this, just like you. They're willing to pay a lot, but for you, it's free. Once you've savored my generous load, just leave and don't show your face again."