The Mistress - 5. Chapter 5: Mateo finds himself stuck between a rock and a hard place. How will he get out of this?

“Why do you look so scared, Mateo?” Henry's voice was gentle, but there was a hint of confusion in his tone. “Aren't you happy to see me?”

Mateo's mind raced, his thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and apprehension. He hadn't expected to see Henry, not after weeks of silence. Not after everything that had transpired between him and Mark. He felt a shiver go down his spine.

For a moment, Mateo hesitated, unsure of what to say or how to react. He forced a smile onto his lips, though it felt brittle and strained.

“No, no, Henry, I'm happy to see you,” he said, his voice unsteady. “It's just... unexpected, that's all.”

Henry studied him intently, as if searching for something beneath the surface. Mateo felt a shiver run down his spine under that scrutinizing gaze.

“Where are you coming from at this time?”

A question Mateo had been expecting but it made his heart race so much he felt like he was gonna pass out. He looked at Henry as the images of his passionate night with replayed at the back of his brain. Fear took ahold of him and he didn’t know whether it was the fear of Henry finding out he had slept with someone or the fear that Mark was gonna find out he was a mistress to a married man. Oh God, he thought as he tried to hide his shaking hands.

“From… from Genevieve’s place.” He lied. “I had to help her with something. When did you arrive?”

“A few hours ago.” Henry said with a raised eyebrow, rising from the bed. “I tried to reach your line but it was unreachable. I waited for you the entire time. You know how much I hate waiting.”

“I… I am sorry.” Mateo apologized, his mouth visibly shaking. “I didn’t know. You went quiet on me for so many days and… “

“I am sorry.” Henry sighed. “There was a lot going on and I needed to concentrate.”

After what felt like hours of staring at each other, Henry did something unexpected. He opened his arms, a warm smile spreading across his face.

“Come here, Mateo. I know you missed me.”

Mateo hesitated, torn between the comfort of Henry's embrace and the tangled mess of emotions swirling inside him. But in the end, he couldn't resist the pull of familiarity. With hesitant steps, Mateo moved into Henry's embrace, feeling the familiar warmth envelop him.

In that moment, as Henry's arms wrapped around him, Mateo couldn't help but feel a rush of conflicting emotions. Guilt mingled with longing, and beneath it all, a sense of impending consequence weighed heavily on his heart. Thoughts of Mark, his newfound connection, loomed large in his mind, casting a shadow over the fragile reunion unfolding in Henry's arms.

They broke the hug, their eyes locked in a silent exchange. And then, in a moment of impulsive longing, Henry closed the distance between them, capturing Mateo's lips in a tender kiss. The touch sent a shiver down Mateo's spine, igniting a fire within him.

One thing led to another, and soon they found themselves entangled on the bed, consumed by passion and desire. But even in the throes of lovemaking, Mateo couldn't silence the nagging voice in his head, the one that whispered of consequences and the tangled web of emotions he found himself ensnared in.

As they lay spent and breathless, Mateo couldn't shake the weight of guilt that hung heavy in the air. He couldn't suppress the tears that welled in his eyes. He knew that if Henry ever found out about Mark, it would unleash a storm of chaos and devastation. And in that moment, as he lay beside Henry, he couldn't help but feel the weight of the consequences bearing down on him like a crushing weight.

The next morning when he woke up, the man was gone like he had expected him to. His heart skipped a beat as he instinctively looked around for Henry, the memories of their shared intimacy flooding back. But the room was empty, save for the scattered evidence of their passion. No surprise there, Mateo thought bitterly. Henry was likely back home with his wife by now.

Sighing heavily, Mateo sat up, the sheet slipping down his torso. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, feeling the weight of guilt settle in the pit of his stomach. Memories of their passionate night flooded his mind, vivid and unrelenting. The way Henry's hands had felt on his skin, the desperate heat of their kisses, the shared intimacy that had briefly eclipsed everything else. Mateo closed his eyes, trying to push the images away, but they clung to him like a shadow.

And then there was Mark, a beacon of light in Mateo's otherwise chaotic world. His new lover, his secret solace. Guilt washed over him in waves as he thought of Mark, the man who had somehow managed to crack open the walls around his heart.

Mateo buried his face in his hands, fingers tangling in his hair as he let out a raw, anguished scream. It echoed off the walls of the room, a primal sound of torment and confusion.

But then, amidst the chaos of his own thoughts, a voice cut through the haze.

“Mateo? What's wrong? Are you okay?”

Startled, Mateo looked up, his breath catching in his throat. There, framed in the doorway, stood Henry, concern etched into his features. Mateo's breath caught in his throat, disbelief washing over him like a tidal wave. Henry was here, not gone as he had assumed.

More shock took him by surprise when he saw the man there with a tray of food.

“How...?” Mateo began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to process the surreal scene before him.

Henry had never stayed the night, let alone prepared breakfast. Henry's expression softened into a gentle smile as he placed the tray on the table. The aroma of freshly cooked food filled the room, tempting Mateo's senses despite his shock.

“I thought you might be hungry,” Henry said, his voice breaking through Mateo's bewildered thoughts.

Mateo couldn't find the words to respond. His mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, disbelief, and a hint of something he dared not acknowledge.

“Hey, are you okay?” Henry asked. “You’ve been acting weird since I arrived.”

“What are you doing here?” Mateo finally managed a word. “I thought you’d have been gone by now. Did you spend the night here?”

Henry chuckled. “What do you think? I didn’t plan on leaving.”

“But…”

“She doesn’t know I came back into the country.” He sighed, taking Mateo’s hand lovingly. “I came straight here because I wanted to spend more time with you. I thought you’d be happy. You’re the one that has always thought I have been unfair to you.”

Mateo stared at the man in confusion.

“I want to make up for all the time I was away, the time I didn’t call you.” He sighed, losing the smile on his face. “I will explain everything to you.”

Mateo’s gaze was fixed on Henry as if trying to decipher whether this was reality or some sort of dream. His mind swirled with a maelstrom of emotions, unable to fully grasp the situation unfolding before him.

"I know I've been unfair to you," Henry's voice broke the silence, his tone surprisingly calm. "These past four years... I've treated you terribly. Like you were nothing more than a possession, a mere object of desire. I denied you the life you deserved.”

Mateo remained silent, his thoughts racing as he tried to process the unexpected confession. For so long, he had resigned himself to the role Henry had assigned him – the compliant lover, always at his beck and call. Yet now, faced with Henry's uncharacteristic vulnerability, Mateo found himself at a loss for words.

“I made you heed to my every call without finding out whether you actually liked it or not.” He took Mateo’s hand and sweetly rubbed on it. “The truth is… I was scared of myself, my past… the fear that I might wake up and you’re gone. I've been scared," Henry confessed, his eyes searching Mateo's for understanding. “Scared of my own past, of the demons that have haunted me for so long. And most of all, scared of losing you.”

Slowly, Henry rose from the bed, his movements tentative yet resolute. With each step, he seemed to gather the courage to unveil a part of himself that had long remained hidden in the shadows. And then, with a trembling voice, he spoke of a memory that had been etched into the fabric of his being since his youth.

“I was young, 15 at the moment but very young,” Henry began, his voice trembling slightly. “Too young to understand love, but old enough to feel its pull. My father... he found me kissing someone, a boy from my school. And for him, that was a little too much to handle and he… he... he beat me to a pulp.”

He paused and chuckled bitterly but Mateo didn’t miss that tone in his voice.

“According to him, no son of his was gonna turn out gay. He made sure I understood that as I lay on the floor covered in my own blood.” He laughed, wiping the tear that threatened to come out. “I was badly injured. I spent weeks in the hospital, trying to heal wounds that ran deeper than the bruises on my skin.”

Mateo's heart ached as he listened to Henry's confession, realizing the layers of pain and fear that had shaped the man he thought he knew.

“But even when I got out, he never let me forget why I had been there. He reminded me every day, as if the shame wasn't already burning a hole in my soul.”

Mateo's expression darkened with understanding as Henry revealed the depths of his father's cruelty. It was a pain that no one should ever have to endure, and yet Henry had carried it with him for years, a heavy burden on his heart.

“To prove that what I had done, kissing a boy was a mistake, he... he made me propose to Emma," Henry confessed, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. “And not only did he do that, but he made sure we were intimate, as if it could somehow erase who I was. He... he made me humiliate gay people, just to prove that I was straight.”

Henry didn’t even realize he had tears on his face.

“I thought it worked,” Henry whispered, his voice raw with anguish. “But when desire becomes strong... no one can stop it. I secretly and discreetly started seeing guys for sex, but each time I did, I was reminded of the consequences that had brought before.

I hated myself, Mateo,” Henry confessed, his voice trembling with emotion. “And I hated them too. Whenever I felt close, I reacted in the most horrible way. I hated them with a passion that consumed me and only saw them as sex objects.”

The weight of his past threatened to consume Henry as he laid bare his darkest truths to Mateo.

“But then... then you came into my life,” Henry confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “And everything changed. I just wanted someone that could satisfy me, one person because sleeping with different was too risky for me.

I couldn’t fall for you no matter what because I considered myself straight. But with your kindness, your generosity and humility changed that, Mateo.”

Mateo’s heart began pounding like a drum. He didn’t want to hear the words that followed next…

“I began liking you a little too much.” He chuckled bitterly. “The thought of you with other guys killed me a lot but I didn’t wanna act upon that. I couldn’t act upon that no matter what.

I've spent much time wrestling with my feelings, trying to understand them and, frankly, trying to deny them. I've always considered myself a straight man. But love, as they say, knows no bounds. It's something I couldn't control, something that snuck up on me when I least expected it.”

Mateo's eyes widened in disbelief, a myriad of emotions flickering across his features – confusion, shock.

“What do you mean?” he whispered, his voice barely audible above the pounding of Henry's heart.

“I mean... I mean that I fell in love with you, Mateo,” Henry admitted, the weight of his confession hanging heavy in the air. “Despite my best efforts to deny it, to push you away, I couldn't fight the feelings that consumed me.”

Mateo's breath caught in his throat, his mind reeling from the revelation. He had never dared to entertain the possibility that Henry might feel something for him– that their connection would go beyond mere physical attraction.

“Why are you telling me this now?” Mateo finally managed to choke out, his voice tinged with a mixture of fear and perhaps, desperation.

“Because something happened, Mateo. Something that made me realize I couldn't keep denying who I am.” Henry took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to reveal next.

“What do you mean? What happened?”

“I met the boy I kissed... whom my father nearly killed me for.” He added, feeling a lump in his throat.

“I… I am sorry.”

“It’s okay. He’s happily married now and we had a long heart to heart talk.” He took a deep breath. “It made me realize that I can't keep living a lie. And Mateo, I realize now that I can't keep pretending to be someone I'm not. I have to be true to myself, no matter the cost.”

Mateo felt tears build in his eyes as the images of his time with Mark replayed in his mind.

“What about your wife?”

“My wife?” Henry laughed, running his hands through his fingers. “My wife and I have never really been happy. Our marriage has mostly been for show… nothing much happens behind closed doors. I don’t think I can live this way anymore, Mateo.”

Mateo sat on the edge of the bed, his mind swirling with fear and uncertainty. Henry's words echoed in his ears, stirring up a storm of conflicting emotions within him. As Henry approached and sat beside him, gently taking his trembling hands in his own, Mateo couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope amidst the turmoil.

Henry’s hands reached out to hold Mateo's trembling ones. The touch was tender, sweet, but Mateo couldn't shake off the weight of what Henry had just confessed. As Henry looked into Mateo's eyes, he could see the confusion, the turmoil that consumed him. With a gentle squeeze of Mateo's hands, Henry spoke softly, his voice filled with sincerity.

“Mateo, I know I've made mistakes. I know I've hurt you. But I'm willing to try, to be better for you. I want to show you the love and care you deserve, to make things right.”

Mateo's heart ached at Henry's words. He never imagined himself in such a predicament, torn between the familiarity of Henry's presence and the allure of something new with Mark. His lips quivered as he struggled to find the words, to make sense of the chaos in his mind.

“Henry..." Mateo whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “I never expected this... I never expected us to be here.”

Henry's expression softened, understanding the torment Mateo was going through. He didn't push, didn't demand an answer. Instead, he simply continued to hold Mateo's hands, offering his support and his promise to try and make things right.

“I know that you’re scared because of my behavior.” He said softly. “It will take some time but I will show you that every word I have said here is true. After all, we both are still here, right?” he chuckled.

Mateo closed his eyes, the conflicting emotions swirling within him. In that moment, he knew he had a decision to make, one that would shape the course of his life. With the dilemma he was currently in, what was he going to do?

***

Mateo sat on the couch, his gaze fixed on the phone vibrating insistently on the table. Each buzz sent a shiver down his spine, a silent plea for attention that he was desperately trying to ignore. It was Mark calling, and Mateo's heart pounded against his chest like a caged bird, frantic and afraid.

His arms were wrapped tightly around his knees, holding himself together as if his very being might unravel if he let go. The weight of uncertainty hung heavy in the air, suffocating him with its relentless grip. He knew he should answer, confront whatever awaited him on the other end of the line, but the fear of the unknown held him back like invisible chains.

Genevieve entered the living room, her steps light but purposeful. She noticed Mateo's troubled expression and the way he seemed transfixed by the phone. Concern etched lines into her brow as she approached him, her voice soft with worry.

“What's wrong, Mateo?” She asked, taking a seat beside him.

Mateo tore his gaze away from the phone, meeting Genevieve's concerned eyes. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak.

“It's Mark,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can't bring myself to answer. I'm scared of what might come out of my mouth. I don’t know if I can face him right now.”

“Why? You can’t be serious. This is a man that has shown you nothing but love ever since he entered your life.”

A bitter laugh escaped Mateo's lips, tinged with self-deprecation. “Because every word that comes out of my mouth will be a lie,” he admitted, his voice heavy with guilt and shame.

Genevieve's eyes widened in disbelief. Without another word, she reached for the phone, ignoring Mateo's feeble protests. With a determined flick of her wrist, she answered the call, her voice steady despite the turmoil raging within her.

“Hello?” She said, her tone calm and collected.

On the other end of the line, Mark's voice came through, tinged with concern.

‘Hey, is Mateo there? I've been trying to reach him.’

Genevieve glanced at Mateo, silently urging him to speak up. When he remained silent, she took matters into her own hands.

“I’m sorry, Mark,” she said, her voice unwavering. “Mateo's sleeping right now. Can I take a message?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, a heavy silence that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Finally, Mark spoke, his voice tinged with disappointment.

“Oh, okay. Just let him know that I've been thinking about him a lot and I love him so much. That's all.”

As Genevieve hung up the phone, Mateo felt a wave of guilt wash over him, threatening to drown him in its suffocating embrace. Genevieve's patience wore thin as she gazed at Mateo, her eyes ablaze with frustration and disappointment.

“Why are you treating the man who loves you like this, Mateo?” she demanded, her voice rising with each word. “Mark cares about you, and you're pushing him away like he means nothing to you!”

“What do you want me to do, huh?” He asked, staring at her. “After everything that I have told you, didn’t it mean anything? Henry is back and he…”

“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “Don't tell me you're actually considering what Henry said. He's a married man, Mateo. He can't offer you anything real.”

Mateo's jaw clenched as he fought to contain the storm of emotions raging within him.

“Don't you think I know that?" he snapped, his voice tinged with desperation. "Do you think I want this? To be caught in the middle of something so... so...”

He trailed off, unable to find the words to express the turmoil churning within him.

“He’s done so much for me and I just can’t bear to tell that to his face.”

Genevieve's voice rose to a crescendo, her frustration boiling over into a torrent of words.

“So, you think you owe Henry something because he helped you when you were in need?” she exclaimed, her eyes flashing with incredulity. “You think you have to suffer for the rest of your life just because he threw you a lifeline? Love is right in front of you, Mateo, and you're too blind to see it!”

Mateo recoiled from her words, his mind spinning with confusion and doubt. “I can't just hurt Henry,” he muttered weakly, his voice barely audible above Genevieve's tirade. “I don't even know how he's going to react...”

Genevieve's eyes narrowed, her frustration simmering beneath the surface.

“So what, then?” she demanded, her voice cutting through the air like a knife. “You're just going to settle for this? Being a mistress for the rest of your life?”

Mateo fell silent, the weight of Genevieve's words pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. He couldn't find the words to respond, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Genevieve leaned in closer, her voice dripping with scorn. “Maybe you enjoy being Henry's dirty little secret,” she spat, her words laced with venom.

Mateo recoiled as if struck, his eyes wide with shock and hurt. “No!” he shouted, his voice cracking with emotion. “No one dreams of being a mistress!”

Genevieve's gaze bore into him, her frustration simmering beneath the surface. “Then do something about it,” she challenged, her voice low and intense. “Get out of this toxic situation before it destroys you.”

Mateo felt a surge of panic rising within him, the weight of Genevieve's words crashing down upon him like a tidal wave.

“It's not that easy,” he protested weakly, his voice trembling with uncertainty.

Genevieve's eyes flashed with determination as she stared him down, her voice unwavering.

“It's only as hard as you make it,” she insisted, her tone fierce and uncompromising. “Is it the money? Because Mark seems to be loaded. Or maybe, you just like the taste of a married man?”

Tears welled up in Mateo's eyes, betraying the turmoil raging within him. He wiped them away hastily, but they kept falling, unstoppable in their cascade down his cheeks.

“Genevieve, you're being unfair,” he choked out, his voice thick with emotion.

But Genevieve's expression remained resolute, her disappointment palpable in the air between them.

“Unfair?" she repeated, her tone sharp with incredulity. “Do you even realize the mess you're making, Mateo? Mark doesn't deserve to be dragged into this web of lies and deceit. He's a good man, and you're selfish for involving him in all this drama.”

“I have…”

“I never thought I'd see the day when I'd be so disappointed in you, Mateo,” she murmured, her voice tinged with sadness.

Mateo reached out a trembling hand, but Genevieve pulled away, her expression firm.

“Don't,” she said, her voice strained. “I can't even look at you right now. You made your choice, Mateo. You have to live with it.”

“I am sorry, Gen, don’t shut me out.” He pleaded. “You’re the only person I have in my life, one who understands.”

Genevieve shook her head, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I don't want your apologies, Mateo,” she said softly. “I want you to do the right thing.”

Mateo's chest tightened with anguish as he struggled to find the words to respond.

“It's not that simple,” he protested weakly, his voice laced with desperation. “No man would understand...”

“Then maybe he's not the right man for you,” she replied, her voice unwavering. “You owe it to Mark to tell him the truth. He deserves better than to be dragged into this web of lies and deceit.”

“I... I can't,” he whispered.

Genevieve's expression softened, a flicker of sympathy crossing her features. “Then we have nothing more to talk about,” she said quietly, her words final.

He nodded slowly, his heart heavy with regret.

“I understand,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “I'll... I'll go.”

And with that, Mateo gathered up his belongings, his steps heavy with the weight of his own guilt. He glanced back at Genevieve one last time, longing etched across his features, but she averted her gaze, her expression unreadable.

As he closed the door behind him, Mateo couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that settled over him like a shroud. He knew that he had to face the truth, no matter how painful it may be. And as left, he couldn't help but wonder if he would ever find redemption for the sins he had committed. But one thing was certain: he couldn't continue living a lie. It was time to confront his demons, whatever the cost may be.

***

Mark pressed the end call button with a heavy sigh, his heart sinking as the call disconnected. Mateo had been ignoring him since yesterday, and the silence between them felt like a gaping chasm. Leaning back against the wall, Mark ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched on his features.

His thumb absentmindedly flicked through messages and notifications. His eyes landed on the thread of naughty texts they'd shared just the day before, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he reminisced about the passionate night they'd spent together.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice the presence behind him until he heard a voice, soft and curious. Startled, he turned to find a beautiful woman standing there, her long hair cascading in waves down her back, her lips full and inviting, her body curvaceous and accentuated by the short dress she wore.

“Why do you look so happy?” she inquired, her tone playful.

Mark blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her sudden appearance. “Oh, uh... just reminiscing,” he replied, his smile widening as he took in her presence.

The woman stepped closer, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

“I know that look,” she said, her voice teasing. “You've got a new boyfriend, don’t you?”

His cheeks flushed, and he dropped his gaze to the floor, feeling suddenly self-conscious under her gaze. “Um, well...” he stammered, unsure how to respond.

But she simply chuckled, stepping closer to him and wrapping him in a warm hug.

“I know you,” she said softly. “You're always glued to your phone when you're in love.”

Mark laughed, the tension easing from his shoulders as he returned her embrace.

"Guilty as charged,” he admitted, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “There is someone,” he confessed, his voice quiet but filled with hope. “But he's not my boyfriend... yet.”

As they stood there wrapped in each other's arms, enjoying the brief moment of connection, the sound of approaching footsteps broke the tranquility. They reluctantly pulled away from each other, turning to see a handsome, tall man standing before them. His professional short hair was impeccably styled, and he wore an expensive-looking suit that spoke of success and sophistication. But it was his captivating eyes, filled with warmth and charisma, that could make anyone fall under his spell.

Mark's face lit up with excitement at the sight of him, and he practically flew across the room to envelop the man in a tight hug. The man returned the embrace warmly, a smile spreading across his face as they parted.

“I'm so glad you're back, big brother,” Mark exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine happiness.

Henry chuckled, a deep, rich sound that echoed in the air. “So am I,” he replied, his eyes twinkling with affection.

To be continued…