Suite d'Existence - 11. Passacaille

Around 9.00 in the morning he had waved his wife and children goodbye as they left for Utrecht. Mara came from the city, as did her parents. Tristan had offered to come along, considering he was told not to work this week, but she had told him to rest. It was probably for the best, but it was a pity he couldn’t meet up with his parents-in-law. They were a very kind and well educated couple.

Instead he spent the day cleaning the house, watching some television and preparing for the movie-night at Sylvia’s place. His parents had taught him never to come empty-handed at such an occasion, so in the afternoon he baked a quiche and cut up some melon. The past night he’d slept relatively well, so he was actually looking forward to spend some time with his colleagues. He was unsure about his reaction upon seeing Ernest, though.

Tonight surely wasn’t the night for his ‘big confession’, the one he wasn’t even sure he’d ever make at all. While waiting for his mobile phone to tell it was seven o’clock, he felt himself getting anxious and queasy.

Of course his mind had been messing around again; Tristan had felt way too optimistic about the whole situation the past hours. Now it was time to experience all the saved doubt at once. It didn’t help that his panic attack started only half an hour before he was supposed to be at Sylvia’s.

It was a full-blown one this time, including kneeling in front of the toilet bowl hoping his stomach would stop turning itself inside out. The puking turned to shaking, to crying and finally to emptiness. It was already half past seven, but he wanted to go anyway. It would be nice to let them know he was coming though, Tristan decided.

It didn’t take long for someone to answer after he dialed the number.

“Tristan? Where are you, are you okay?” Sylvia said on the other end of the line, clearly worried judging by her tone.

“Hi Syl, I’m sorry, I didn’t feel so great. I’m fine now, though. Is it okay if I come anyway?”

“Of course that’s fine, we were already worrying about you. We haven’t started the movie yet, Ernest brought ‘Les Intouchables’, hope that’s okay with you?”

“Yes, that’s a nice film. Sorry for being late Syl, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Don’t apologize. We’ll be here waiting for you. See you in a bit!”

“Thanks, I’m leaving now. Bye.”

“Bye!”

No, he didn’t feel fine, but he knew staying in wouldn’t help at all. He quickly put on a clean shirt, grabbed the food he prepared and walked over to his bike. There was something off about the aluminum framed vehicle, however. One of the tires was completely deflated.

Great. Réally great. I don’t need this right now... I don’t have time for this. I’ll just take the bloody bus, for heaven’s sake…

-

Tristan’s mood turned more positive upon seeing Ernest standing in Sylvia’s doorway, welcoming him. The bus stop had been a less close to his destination than he’d thought, so it had taken him almost an hour to get from his house to this point. The warming smile of his friend made it all right, though.

“Hi! Glad you’ve made it.”

“Yeah, I’m glad too”, Tristan answered, not even completely lying this time. Feeling Ernest’s hand on his shoulder as he was led inside startled him a little, but he didn’t feel horrible about it. He didn’t mind Sylvia almost choking him in her hug either.

“Tristaaaan we missed you”, she said giddily before taking a step back to observe her colleague. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, really.” Tristan reassured. “Where can I put these?” he continued, pointing at the boxes of food he’d brought.

“Oh, I’ll put them in the fridge for you. You didn’t have to bring something, you know. Just sit down, I’m sure Ernest doesn’t need the entire couch for himself. If he does, just push him aside.”

Both men chuckled at the continuous stream of words that seemed to flood the place. They both took seat, just as they were told, while Sylvia went to the kitchen. “You can put the DVD in the player, Ernest!” she called from the other room.

The addressed rolled his eyes, which made Tristan grin. Fumbling with the DVD-player, Ernest turned his head towards him for a moment. “Did everything go okay?” he asked with sincere interest.

Tristan nodded. “It went well. I won’t be working tomorrow and Friday, though. I…” He wasn’t sure if he was moving in the right direction, but continued anyway. “I’ll tell you more soon. It’s just a bit complicated. Well… Maybe very complicated.”

“I’ve got time.” was all his colleague could answer before Sylvia came back from the kitchen, carrying a tray of food and drinks. It was going to be a pleasant evening.

-

Halfway through the movie they decided to take a much-needed bathroom break. Just after Ernest had left the room, Sylvia’s phone rang. Meanwhile, Tristan was going through her extensive collection of books.

“Hi, Ids!”

Tristan turned around in surprise to face a blushing friend. She pointed to the kitchen, indicating she was going there to have a conversation in private. He couldn’t help but grin and wiggle his eyebrows. Her face turning an even darker shade of red, Sylvia quickly walked over to the kitchen and closed the door.

Shortly after her disappearance, Ernest returned. His eyes scanned the room for the absent female friend, before shooting a questioning look towards Tristan.

“She got a call from Ids.” The latter answered without the need of a question.

“Ids? Our colleague? From school?”

“Yes…I think there’s something going on between them.” He smiled. “When she answered the phone she was blushing so intense, I thought her veins were going to pop.”

Now it was Ernest’s turn to grin. “Do you want to sit down?”

Tristan nodded. They sat next to each other in silence, awkwardly glancing sideways now and then. Sylvia returned soon enough, only to be bombarded with interrogating looks from her friends.

“What?” she shrieked in defense. “It’s not as if you two tell each other everything!”

Both men couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable at the accusation. They didn’t dare to look at each other, which caused the woman to regret her statement.

“I didn’t mean that. Sorry. We’re going out for dinner tomorrow, so I’ll tell you the details when I’m sure something’s going on between us. Deal?”

“Hmm…Shouldn’t we demand pictures or something?” Ernest teased, lightening the mood.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny. Let’s get on with the movie, shall we?”

Tristan nodded, enjoying the playful banter between his friends. He’d made the right decision by deciding to come. However, Sylvia’s words didn’t leave his thoughts. It was true; for being such good friends, they didn’t know an awful lot about each other.

-

Around eleven the film came to an end, and the two guests decided they wouldn’t bother their host any longer.

“So I’ll see you guys tomorrow then?” Sylvia asked as they stood in the hallway outside her apartment.

“Nah, I’ve been ordered to rest the next couple of days, so I won’t be at school for a while. Ah, thanks.” Ernest handed Tristan his coat.

“Oh, okay. You’ll be at work, right?”

“I will”, Ernest answered, putting on his own summer jacket.

“Great. I hope your bike doesn’t fall apart, Tristan.”

“It actually had a flat tire when I was leaving, so I took the bus”, Tristan answered.

Sylvia looked at him in horror. “But the nearest bus stop is like…half an hour away!” she exclaimed.

“Seriously, it’s not that bad. I like to move around, and it really isn’t that far.”

“Pff… If you say so.”

During his discussion with Sylvia, he hadn’t noticed Ernest was staring at him shyly. Both hands in the pockets of his jeans he looked hesitating, almost if he wanted to say something. It turned out he did.

“Ehm…Do you want me to walk you to the bus stop? I mean, it’s not that late, but I thought…”

“That would be nice.” Tristan saved him from his misery. He sent an appreciative smile and received a warming one in return.

Sylvia didn’t seem to notice the brief exchange between the two men. She was still checking her phone; after the call she had been sending and receiving messages throughout the second half of the movie.

“Well, we’re going then. Thanks for the lovely evening, Syl.” Ernest said, before giving her a hug.

Tristan respectively thanked and hugged her too, after which he and Ernest went downstairs and stepped outside onto the street. It was still cold and the sun had already disappeared beneath the horizon. A light breeze made it seem even colder, though the street lights brought some imaginative warmth to the scenery. The illuminated sidewalk gave the two men the opportunity to still look at each other, during this cold summer night.

After strolling a couple of minutes in silence, Tristan decided to break the quiet.

“Do you live around here? I mean…I hope you don’t have to walk back because you’re accompanying me now.”

Wow. That made no sense at all.

“It’s not a problem. I live pretty much next to the bus stop.” Ernest smiled. He loved the way Ernest smiled; the corners of his mouth curling upwards, his eyes lightening up. It seemed all so straightforward, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t at all.

“Oh that’s great. I was afraid I’d be a bother.”

“You’ll never be.”

Talking about melting hearts. Those perfect words weren’t exactly making the situation any easier. Again there was silence. The traffic had reduced to an occasional car or motorcycle and the light breeze had died down. It was actually quite enjoyable to be outside at this time of day.

“It’s almost two years ago since he died.” This time it was Ernest who broke the calm. Tristan looked up in surprise.

“Sylvia was right. I owe you a bit of my background.” The physicist continued.

“You don’t have to…” Tristan interrupted. He didn’t want to pressure his friend into anything, and he wasn’t ready to tell anything himself either.

“Yes I do. And it’s okay, I want to. Philip and I were together for nine years, before he died. We were married for four of them.”

Tristan didn’t know what to say. Of course Sylvia had told him on that awful night, but to hear it from Ernest made him feel uncomfortable. Furthermore, the sad look on his face made him want to hug him for an eternity. He decided not to act on his feelings, though.

“He died of a sudden heart attack. Perfectly healthy, never sick, only thirty-two. But he died anyway. And I lost my husband.” Ernest’s voice had become more of a whisper, pain oozing out of his words.

“I’m sorry.” was all Tristan could manage.

“Thanks. It’ll be two years next Wednesday. I thought you should know, because I’ll be a bit less happy than normal.”

Their walking tempo had slowed down considerably, but he didn’t care if he was going to miss his bus. There would always stop another one. On the other hand, this moment wasn’t going to repeat itself.

“I understand. Thanks for telling me.”

And again, for the third time, there was silence. Ernest had seemingly managed to pull himself together, whereas Tristan was fighting an internal battle.

He deserves to know, even Paul thinks so. But this is probably an entirely inappropriate moment. I didn´t even consider the fact he doesn´t like me. I mean, he kissed me, but that doesn´t mean anything. This is just not…Ugh, fuck it.

“I should probably tell you something about me then, shouldn’t I?”

“You don’t have to, Miller. It’s not like you owe me a confession after what I said.”

See? This is a stupid idea. Wow, his hair looks almost silver-brown in the light. Jesus Tristan, get yourself together. You’re going to ruin everything. It would be nice to see him play the viol though, to sit next to him on a couch again and…Bloody hell. What am I doing?!

“But I do. I do…”

Ernest didn’t reply. They just kept strolling along, looking at an occasional show window.

“I…I told my shrink I’ve probably fallen in love with you.”

And so the truth was out. Flying around freely on this chilly summer night. Seconds after the confession, Tristan heard only his own footsteps. There wasn’t anyone walking beside him anymore.

Fuck. See what you’ve done? Fuck. Keep walking, don’t look back. You’ve screwed it all up.

Soon enough he noticed a second pair of footsteps again, though. Its rhythm was much faster than his own, until a silhouette appeared at his left. Their paces were now equal again, continuing the stroll that had been stopped so abruptly.

Tristan was happy to spot the bus stop not too far in front of them. He couldn’t handle another substantial amount of uncomfortable silence. A quick glance at his watch told him he’d be able to catch the bus he’d planned to.

Standing at the iron road sign, the two men finally looked at each other. Their gaze was shy, but intense. One of them briefly stroked the other’s arm. There wasn’t a streetlamp were they stood.

“I…I only have to teach tomorrow morning. Do you want me to come by? I can…We can maybe…Mezzo is going to broadcast L’Incoronazione di Poppea tomorrow. Maybe we can…”

“I’d like that. A lot.” His newfound confidence still didn’t fail to amaze Tristan. The fact they weren’t able to see each other’s faces clearly, did help.

Before being able to change his mind about his decision, the night-bus stopped right in front of them. The doors opened, Tristan grabbed his wallet and shot a final look to Ernest. The evening had already been surreal; nothing would make it worse, and he didn’t have anything to lose.

That’s why he decided to step forward and put his arms around his colleague. He felt another pair of arms hugging him back, a cheek brushing his, soft breathing caressing his neck.

But he had to catch a bus, so he released his hold. Taking a seat in the front of the vehicle, he saw the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. As they drove off, he could still smell him. He still felt the two strong arms along his sides, keeping him safe.

He had been hugged. Out of nowhere. By the man he loved. That wasn’t bad, was it?