Page 49 of The Grumpy Vet
My mind wanders back to my life before Dario and Ryde became such an integral part of it. I always vowed to be nothing like my old man, but I fear I may have been slipping down a similar path nevertheless. I was alone. No life outside of work. Getting grumpier by the day.
And then Dario and Ryde burst into my world, turning my black-and-white existence into full-blown colour, and I haven't been the same since. Oakey called it. I seem happier because I am happier.
"Thank you for everything you did," I say to my father, the pressure building behind my eyes. "You did the best you could. You're safe here.You're okay."
I repeat the last two words half a dozen times while he just stares at me blankly. I stop and search for some small sign that he at least heard me. But there's nothing there, his eyes glazed over. He may still be alive and breathing, but he's already gone. And I was right, I won't get that Hollywood movie closure.
I let go of his hand and lean back in my seat. Something Dad once said pops into my head. It was after his father's funeral. He was in a foul mood, grieving but unable to process any of his emotions as usual, and he said something like, "Just goes to show, no one wins at life. We all end up in the same place in the end."
I didn't give his bleak words much thought at the time, but now that I'm remembering them, I see the truth of what he meant. Life is short, and really, it's not about anything other than doing your best. Whatever thatbestmeans for you. As long as it doesn't hurt anyone else, why give a fuck what anyone thinks? We all end up dying anyway.
Ryde and Dario float into my head again. I have a striking montage of visuals to choose from, most involving them wrapped around my cock, but given the setting, I settle on a more PG-rated image, one of us sharing a meal at my place after our workout at the end of a long day.
Oakey left over a month ago, and after picking up where we left off—and then some—things between the three of us have only gotten better. And not just sexually, although whatever triggered Dario to get all rough and nasty like that has opened up a whole new world for us to explore. Ryde has returned the favour, making Dario choke on my cock on multiple occasions until tears streamed down his face.
But what's even better than our off-the-charts sexual chemistry is that we're now spending all of our spare time together. Not just evenings, but weekends, too. I've taken them on a few hikes, showing them some of my favourite hidden water holes. Most nights after dinner, we'll go sit outside near the rooster pen and stare up at the brilliant display of stars in the sky. Dario even ordered a jigsaw puzzle from Amazon and two weeks later, it arrived. It's sitting two-thirds done on my dining table.
All of which is to say this is changing from purely a physical thing to an emotional thing. And that is scarier than watching Wilby inhale a meat pie. But as I stare at my old man and contemplate what the fuck the point of all this is, it’s dawning on me that maybe it really shouldn’t be that scary at all.
We've laid our cards out on the table and shared how we honestly feel. Ryde has feelings for me. Dario has feelings for Ryde. And lingering just below the surface is what hasn’t been brought into life with words yet. That I’m developing feelings, too. For both of them.
The real question is—where to from here?
Dario only has a couple more months before his time at the clinic wraps up, and then what happens? Do Ryde and I go back to how we were before he arrived and pretend like none of this happened? Do we continue without him, just the two of us? Neither option sits right with me. But if Dario doesn't want to stay, and I can't leave Scuttlebutt because of the clinic, where does that leave us?
I let out a weary sigh. I've got enough to deal with in my present day, I don't have the energy to worry about what's to come. Dad’s condition has been steadily deteriorating these past few weeks, and despite putting on a brave face and not talking about it—healthy coping mechanism, I know,I know—it’s been getting to me. The end is coming, whether I’m ready to face it or not.
We sit in silence for a while longer before I eventually say goodbye to my father, thank the nurses at their station on the way out, and step out into the still-warm evening air.
I'm walking to my car when I stop in my tracks.What the hell?I walk up to the bench under the massive river red gum. "What are you two doing here?"
"Oh, nothing. Just hanging out," Dario replies, looking up at me with a charming smile.
Ryde says, "We've noticed you’ve been a bit down lately. We thought it might be too much to visit your father with you, but we came here as a show of support. To let you know we’re thinking of you."
"And to give you these." Dario bends over and retrieves something from under the bench.
"You got me flowers," I say when he gets up and hands me the bright bouquet.
"Don't worry. We’re not being sappy. They're edible," he says, rocking on his heels.
"Chocolate edibles, not the other kind," Ryde clarifies.
A warm flush sweeps through my chest. I don't know what to say. No one's ever bought me a gift before without there being an occasion for it.
I swallow hard. "I'm really touched. Thank you." We start towards the car park when something they said twigs in my head. "Have I been acting down lately?"
"Yeah. A little,” Dario answers before Ryde rushes to add, "I don't think anyone else has noticed, but we have."
I slow down, and, by god, I want to grab both of their hands. But I'm holding the flowers, and we're in public, so I stick to those totally lame excuses as reason not to.
Actually, you know what?
No.
Fuck that shit.
Wasn't I just sitting with my dying miserable bastard father contemplating how short life is? When we reach Ryde's car, I toss the flowers onto the roof, grab the sides of his face, and kiss him—hot and rushed but with an underlying note of tenderness—before pulling away and kissing Dario the same way.
