Learning How to Live - 1. Beacon

"You know, of all the people in Jared's life, you were the only one I ever felt threatened by. You were the only one that I was sure could screw it up for he and I." Cheryl adjusted her shawl a little tighter around her shoulders as she stared out across the lake from the back patio of Roan's home. They'd come out here after putting her son, Greg, to sleep in the front-guest room. They'd had an impromptu dinner of fried rice and dumplings made with kale leaves as wrappers and now she and Roan were watching the lake with the moon hanging behind them through the tree-line.

He glanced up at her for a moment to watch as she stood with the nearly full, over-sized martini glass tipped on the edge of the wood banister. Cheryl was a tall woman at 5'10; her attentive brown eyes, expressive face, and smooth coffee colored skin were quite attractive all on their own but a force of nature when paired with her sharp wit, friendly personality, and athletic figure. She was wearing jeans and a purple long-sleeved cotton shirt and the white soles of her canvas shoes were twisting against the wood of the deck as she stood there. She was wearing a shawl about her shoulders against the cool damp breeze that was blowing that night. He had always thought she was a commanding presence but, right now though, he thought, her sad, distant expression looked wrong on her usually jovial features. Licking his lips, he nodded before turning his face to look back out over the darkness of the lake; he eyes were unfocused as he considered the events of the evening and just where this conversation was heading.

"I even thought I hated you for a minute near the beginning. All he'd ever do was prattle on in that bubbling way of his whenever we'd have a lull in our time together; it would leave this feeling in my chest like...I dunno, like jealousy always is, like tar clinging to my insides and making me cold and angry at the same time. I'd think 'Jesus, he can't even go on a date without bringing his wing man in spirit if not in body.'" He heard her shift as she wiped her had over her face and a humorless sound escaped her mouth. "So, I was only doubly surprised when you seemed to pull out of the picture." He felt her staring at him before he glanced to see her staring at him, her face almost unreadable. "Why did you pull back? Was it that you didn't like me?" Her face never changed but she sounded tired and defeated.

Roan, dropped his head down between his shoulders and sighed heavily as he let his weight rest on his forearms the were draped over the oak railing, his beer was hanging over the edge, warming between his hands. He closed his eyes and tried to still the sickly trembling in his stomach; there was no good answer to this question - He'd spent years deflecting questions about that period of his life in one form or another but Cheryl was different; she was smart and observant beyond all reason. He turned from the railing and grabbed one of the bar stools from beside him and sat facing her. He looked at her in the moonlight and the light spilling through the living room french doors across the deck from them. She was still a picture of an ideal women; tall, confident, intelligent, even carrying an athletic build. He sighed heavily as he straightened his back and wiped a hand across the back of his neck and tried to meet her gaze. "I didn't inten-" he started.

"Don't. I've heard enough bullshit for one evening. If you can't tell me the truth, at least be straight with me and say so." He looked up at her sharply, her entire face was unreadable now, she hadn't moved from her relaxed posture on the stool but everything felt tense somehow; Roan thought of lighting arcing through a storm cloud as he watched her. He put his beer on the banister and returned his hands to hang between his knees; he couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze again.

"I-I don't want to bullshit you. It's hard for me to explain anything I was doing back then. I had a best friend and I could tell from the first day I met you that he had found something better than a best friend." He made a fist and slowly opened it; this was not how he'd expected his night to go but, he supposed, her night wasn't going any more according to plan either. "I have always wanted the best for Jared and it was always obvious that was you." He glanced up nervously to see her frowning slightly but she didn't say anything. "I'd do anything for either of you. Please don't misunderstand me; I love you both and I wanted you both to be happy. I just..." he looked back at his hands "didn't have any place to stand."

"You felt like he couldn't make time for you? So you just walked away. Is that it?" Her voice was flat, and he could tell this was getting worse. She was not a person he wanted to make angry but how was he supposed to change what he'd done years ago?

"N-no. I didn't want him to make time for me. I knew Jared; he'd just keep trying to shove us all together all of the time and I would always be..." He spread his hands on his knees.

"In the way" she offered evenly.

He looked up and met her gaze again. "Yeah. My feelings were all over the place and I didn't want to be a third wheel anymore. You two were absolutely and rather nauseatingly falling for each other and I was just bearing witness to it all. I didn't need to be there now that you two had each other." His hands were on his knees and he kept squeezing them to hold still; part of him just wanted to get up and run; part of him felt like he was about to get beaten by the mother of his godson; all of him wanted to be anywhere but here right now. He smiled weakly while frowning at her.

She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. "Men" she muttered as she looked back over the lake. They sat there in silence for what seemed to him to be minutes with only the sound of the breeze and the occasional rustling of grass along the bank. "He cried you know. We spent prom night out in the old arboretum garden, on a bench looking up at the stars. Instead of doing what everyone would think we were doing, he brought you up after, what two years? He couldn't figure out what happened and he blamed himself for some crime - He didn't even know what he'd done but he was sure he'd done it." She snorted bitterly and pressed her lips together, "When I looked up from where I was laying in his lap, I could see the tears glistening in his eyelashes. We spent the entire night with me holding him on that bench while he got it all out. I couldn't even say anything to help him understand." She looked at him sharply "I didn't even understand." She frowned and pulled a long sip from her glass, grimacing as she swallowed the now warm liquid. "I'd have kicked your ass across the goddamned tri-state area if I could have gotten my hands on you that night. You managed to ruin the one special night that was supposed to be about...Us. You'd run off and left a bigger impact than when you were there. Worse than that, you were tormenting a friend and the man that I loved more than anything in the world." She paused to glance over at him pointedly. "All because you felt insecure about your place in his life?" She made a sound of disgust as she looked back into the darkness. "Why are men such cowards? Why is it OK for men to be such cowards?!"

She was looking at him again and he fidgeted on his stool. At first he thought it wasn't really something he had to answer but when she raised an expectant eyebrow and crossed her arms he clenched his teeth together and tried to shrink in on himself. "I can't excuse my behavior. I never meant to hurt either of you; I just couldn't bear to watch while I lost a friend and what was almost the only good thing in my life." He pulled his fingers through his close cropped hair as he pulled a long breath in. "Why are we cowards? We aren't allowed to be hurt; we're supposed to suck it up and soldier on no matter what happens and feel nothing about it. When we can't...what are we supposed to do? We can't be men and let others see us hurt. We can't let others know we are running either...But some things you just can't swallow - There's no way I could have watched as I lost him slowly, leaving me all alone again, in silence. I thought I was going to lose myself, my mind, if I hurt anymore than I did back then." He frowned and clenched his jaw as her face started to blur. "If I told him, he'd either laugh it off as nothing and drag me into even more of the time he spent with you or, worse, he'd freak out thinking it was some...I don't know some kind of gay proclamation or something." He pressed a finger to his eye to let the moisture wick to his skin before rubbing it with his thumb.

She was still watching him expectantly but her face was softer now. "Was it?" she asked after the moment dragged out. She reached and set her glass on the banister and touched her hands together as she leaned forward toward him.

His frown deepened and he looked at her quizzically. "What? You're asking if I was gay for your husband?" She didn't respond but sat looking at him expectantly. "Jesus, I know it's been a rough night but that's a little low, don't you think?"

She spread her hands and glanced out at the water before turning back, an apologetic expression held in her eyes. "No, not if it's you I don't." She held up a hand when he stiffened and began to protest. "I'm not calling you gay and I'm not accusing you of anything; I am trying to understand what would scare you so much that you'd break not only your best friend's heart but your own as well. What made you think you couldn't talk to anyone about it? I get that I was the enemy but"

"Now, hold on Cheryl! I never said you were the" His face was flushed when she gestured him silent again.

"Fine, a threat then. You could have talked to me or someone; Something!" She was throwing her hands around animatedly now. "Not just walk away without so much as a 'Good-bye'. No 'You can have him' or I can't be here. You just up and left." She looked at him before staring down at the floor; a tear rolled down her cheek as she looked back up at him, her face was a mask of composure again. "When two hearts break, there is nothing to be celebrated, nothing to be won. There is only something to mourn. You should have talked to him. You should have told someone what you were going through."

He felt the skin of his neck grow hot as he stood up from his stool. "You don't know what I went through! You know I love you but you aren't being fair!" He winced at the edge of his voice as it echoed back at him. He licked his lips and rubbed his hands together as he tried to reign himself in. "I-I didn't have a choice. I couldn't bear to be rejected but I could, just barely, manage to let go." he whispered that last part. "I am sorry that he was hurt. I am sorry that I left you to watch him suffer and that I, what, tarnished the joy of your both finding each other? Listen, I never wanted that for either of you. Yes, I was threatened by what you had together but I never thought of you as an enemy and I certainly would never have done anything to jeopardize it." He frowned into his fingers as he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. He took a step toward the house before closing his eyes and dropping his hands to his sides. He turned and looked back at her face.

She wore a mask of calm again, as though she just happened to be here in front of him. She has a frighting level of control at times like these; it felt like she was almost toying with him in her judgement. He'd never done anything but try to stay out of the way and try to avoid hurting the people he cared about. So what if it didn't always work out; did it ever? For anyone?

He blew out a breath noisily. "Why did you bring that up? Why tonight, now? Your husband just left my driveway like two hours ago and my ear is still ringing from where the dick slugged me and you decide now is the time to judge me for shit that happened a decade ago??"

Cheryl stood and turned back toward the cool air coming off of the water; with her back to him she seemed smaller, like she was some how less material, less present. "Roan, my husband cheated on me, not once but for months. Worse still, with a woman who had nothing to offer him but a good time with cheap lipstick smeared on his..." she made a sound that for all the world he'd have said was a growl. "And, for all of that, I know that fool still loves me. I left the house and brought our son over here tonight so that I didn't murder him in his sleep with dental floss...used dental floss."

He continued to watch her shoulders and imagined he could almost hear the smirk on her face.

"When the two of you were out in the yard, I thought about how much I am not worried or even scared by his infidelity. He'll be divorced or he'll never disrespect me like that ever again; it's as simple as that." She shrugged. "And it seems funny to me, that I should be so angry with myself and with him over this while not being scared at all." She turned around and leaned back against the banister, her shawl had fallen off of one of her shoulders but she made no move to fix it as she looked at him. "As surreal as it sounds, I watched the two of you doing your men pissing thing in the driveway and thought, if it had been you, I'd be terrified right now."

Roan watched her face for anything that would help him understand what she was feeling but all he could see was sadness; there was no malice or anger left, she just looked drained and tired. He took a step toward her and touched her hand. "I don't understand. Your husband is cheating with a woman, he's only ever shown interest in women, and now you're afraid he's gay? That I'm gay?" He shook his head slowly "I'm confused more than insulted...though I am pretty sure I am insulted too." He smiled but continued to look askance of her.

She wiped her face with the hand he was holding, dragging him a little closer and leaning into him. She put her arms around him and looked him in the eye with a smirk on her face that she nearly always had when she got this close; she loved being able to look down at him; it was a quirk he could accept in good humor ...and with only a little injury. "I am saying that in all of this fucked up situation"

He started a bit, it wasn't like her to f-bomb a conversation.

She continued, "I can see that the only thing that man feels as strongly about as me, is you."

Roan cocked his head to the side "He loves Greg", Cheryl and Jared's son of nearly three years as well as Roan's god son, who was sleeping in the front bedroom as they talked in the back yard.

Her smirk slid into a smile and her eyes danced with humor. "Yes, Roan, my husband loves our son more than both of us combined." She glanced over his shoulder at the house, before releasing him to gather her glass and his beer from the banister and walking past him to the house. "I think I've done enough drama for one evening. What do you say we call it a night?" She called over her shoulder as she turned the handle of the french door.

He stood there, rubbing his hand over his head in confusion. He took a deep breath and decided it would be better to let it go as he walked heavily back to the house.