I went home to crash after the long, intense night. Jake simply raised his head to make sure it was me coming in. The message light was blinking. I punched the button. Before the words began, the short pause, the sound of a breath filled my heart with hurt, it was Brian.

“Nick, I was afraid I was calling too late, but you’re not there. I hope everything is alright and it’s just another “cop night”. It’s been too long since we last spoke. I miss our time together, our friendship, you. It’s still hard to be in a different place. I guess I just wanted to hear your voice, to know you’re still out there. Call me, Nick. Don’t be mad or proud, call me. Everything between us wasn’t working – but oh boy, what did work, it worked real good. Call.”

He had been gone almost two years. He sent cards for my birthday and holidays. He called now and again – I was even home sometimes when he called and we’d talk. Talk about his new job in his new home city. Talk about my old job in the same old place. We’d laugh about funny things that had happened during our five years together, but before either of us was smart enough to hang up, one of us would break down and all the hurt and loneliness and emptiness that seemed to be our present lives would escape. We’d sit at either end of the phone listening to the other sniff and search around for a handkerchief.

The songs all say how much it hurts to be in love, to lose that love. They don’t say how to go on.

***

I was late that last night before he left, very late. I was clearing up the last details of an ugly case involving a drunken husband and a battered wife. Sad story, seemed like they had hated each other for years until she finally killed him. She probably would have been acquitted except for the way she disposed of the body. Dozens of little ziplock bags, some still in her freezer, that she’d been depositing in public trash cans across the city. Her only mistake was leaving one fingertip intact. Her husband had been booked on DWI and the print matched.

So, I go in the front door and his bags are lined up in the hall. Brian sometimes went on business trips, but never with this much stuff. I found him in the kitchen, sitting over a cup of coffee. Brian only drinks coffee at breakfast. He turned toward me as I came in, his eyes were red.

“Is this it?”

“Yeah.”

“You have someplace to go?”

“Yeah, I’m leaving the city, moving to Phoenix. I got a job there. I tried to tell you about it last month, but even when you were here, you weren’t here. I think you know what I mean.”

“Brian, I’m sorry. You know I love you.”

“Yeah, I do, Nick. And I know you being a cop is important and it’s who you are. But I fell in love with someone who was more than a job. I fell in love with someone I could spend time with, have dinner with. I fell in love with someone who was the warmth in my bed at night, someone whose passion was for me.”

“Oh god, Brian, there hasn’t been anyone else.”

“I never thought so, but lately, when we – I was going to say “make love” – but it’s when we fuck, it’s like you’re trying to fuck away the ugliness of the scum you deal with all day. I need you to make love to me, to me.”

It was a long time until he could speak.

“Nick, I’ve got to do something else. I don’t want our relationship to be empty, to be a habit. I don’t want to hate you, Nick, I can’t bear that. So I’m going.

He stood, hugged me, and walked out the door. I watched him leave. I knew he was right, even if I never understood before.

Coming home to Brian after a day with murderers and thugs was like changing worlds. Brian’s world had order and refinement. He took care of the thousand details that give life grace. And when I couldn’t sleep at night, when the horrors of that other world invaded my dreams, Brian would wrap me in loving arms, and somehow change the nightmare into desire. I can still feel his cock pulsing in my ass – Brian came a lot – it was reassuring, loving, completing. I just never saw what he was really giving me, all that I was taking from him. I’m sorry, Brian. I love you. You’re gone.

Without Brian, there was no “other world”. I lived in my job. I sold our condo, I couldn’t bear to be there among the memories. My Uncle Stavros set me up with an apartment in a building he owned – as much to have someone in the otherwise empty building as to help me out, but it was cheap and somewhere else. I got Jake from the pound. And I stayed in the horrific world of crime. I took satisfaction in solving cases, even while knowing there were many more I’d never solve. My senses felt sharper. Details and patterns seemed obvious to me. I was the best damned detective on the squad. And I was empty, going through the motions.

Every night I beat off until I fell asleep. A few times I met up with Eddie. At least that was still fun. Sometimes hell-for-leather scream-out-loud sex does the heart good – sometimes – for a little while.

***

I called him back. I could imagine the sleepy, befuddled look on his face as he grunted ‘hello’ into the phone. “Brian, it’s me.”

“Nick!” His voice brightened.

“Sorry to call back so late, I just got in. Two hit and run murders in one night. This town seems to be going crazy.”

“I’m glad to hear your voice. I didn’t really call for any reason. It’s been a while since we last spoke. How are you, Nick?”

“I’m ok. Just doing life. Mom asked after you, so did Uncle Stavros. They send their best.”

“No one in your life?”

“Nope. Just work and the dog. Why do you ask?”

“No real reason. Maybe if you find someone, so will I.”

“Brian – no, I’m not going there. Brian, I love you, but that wasn’t enough and I understand. I sure miss you, but I think we both need to give each other up. Promise me, before we both start bawling promise you’ll go out with someone, even just a movie or dinner.”

“Ok, but you’ve got to, too.”

“Done. Starting tomorrow, it’s ‘cruise time’.”

“I love you, Nick.”

“And I love you, Brian. Now go get laid.”

I hung up the phone, washed up and got into bed.