I was so lost and scared. It had been days since the funeral, but I couldn't bring myself to get back into doing my usual activities. Anthony was dead and I tried convincing myself that it was just a nightmare. I would wake up tomorrow and all would be well again, but I knew better. It was all the fault of that stupid driver. How could he do this to me? Anthony was the anchor of my life, my everything. I had told him once that should he die before me, I would kill myself, so that we could be together forever. He just laughed at me and told me that I wouldn't. I loved life too much and I guessed he had been right all along, though I was hurt at that time. Though I did not go and committed suicide, the thought did cross my mind a few times and I thought that I would really do it, but I did not.
Do not get me wrong here. I love Anthony, but I know that to kill myself will not end all hurt. More people will end up with pain: my parents, friends; the list goes on. I just know that I will not love again, never will I commit myself and hurt myself in the end.
I got up from the bed, but I didn't really want to. We had shared this bed for more than six years and now he was gone. He was only 26, young, successful and the only person who loved me for who I was. We met when he was 20 and I was only 17. "Widowed at the age of 23", I had to smile when I thought about it. I was in love with him and it was painful to lose him, but I knew that the sooner I got up on my feet again, the faster the heartache would heal.
After showering, I put on my suit to get to work. It was the one that Anthony bought for me when I graduated last year. We celebrated the occasion by going to our favourite spot: a little cave in the wood two hours away from the city. We drank champagne and ate the food that I had prepared. I would prefer not to mention what it was; I was not a good cook. Anyway, we had so much that night and planned on how to spend the rest of our lives together. I guessed the plans would not materialise; Anthony had died.
I didn't really know how I managed to get through the day. All I could remember was the one long meeting that seemed like a one-man show. The manager kept on talking, not caring about the rest of us who also had to report the progress in our divisions. I was not really complaining though because I was so heartbroken still and the yakking-pig---that's what I called THAT manager, might as well talk as much as he wanted to. After the day was over, I walked towards the parking space where my car was and it was then that I heard someone moaning in pain. I searched high and low, and there he was, lying almost unconscious a few feet away from my car. I was truly shocked when I got to look at his face. Although it was black and blue from the obvious beating, he had an uncanny resemblance to Anthony. The blue eyes, hair so blond that you never thought would be possible and the same sexy lips. It was starnge when I thought about it. I was supposed to be mourning for Anthony and here I was admiring this gorgeous male.
I stooped down and carried him to my car. After depositing him in the backseat, I slipped into the driver seat and once I made sure that he did not roll down the seat, I drove us home. Along the way, I thought about how in the world would I be able to help this guy. It was one of my vices that Anthony disliked: doing anything without much consideration. I guessed that I was now stucked with this guy here and I had to do my best to help him.
I laid him down on the sofa and somehow or other finally dabbed some medication on his wound. I sat down on the floor and gazed at him. "Wow! He had a beautiful body", I thought to myself. In the process of administering to him, I had to strip off his shirt and pants. He was beaten up real bad it seemed. His chest and thigh was bluish with the beating and I was overwhelmed with sympathy. After covering him with the blanket, I entered the bedroom. I did not have an extra bed in the other bedroom because Anthony and I never really saw to it. We did not have guest staying over anyway, so we couldn't be bothered with it.
I took a shower and cooked my dinner. It was the loneliest meal I ever had. I thought of waking my "guest" up, but I decided against it. He would be better tomorrow if I let him sleep through the night. "This guy is a major hunk", I had a silly smile all through my dinner. I couldn't help remembering his muscular body, the thighs so thick and tough with muscles, and what an ass! If only he were gay! Well, I didn't know yet, but I wasn't really interested in another relationship whatsoever.
I slept through the night, feeling exhausted and aching from having to carry the guy into the car, out of the car and finally onto the sofa. It was the worst ordeal ever! Getting up, I walked out of the room, just in my shorts, no shirt. Imagined my surprise to see him in the kitchen, still in his drawers as I left him last night. I guessed at once that he was looking for a glass to drink and when I walked in, he turned around, kind of shock, I guess.
"Hi, I am Jeremy. I brought you back last night. You were almost unconscious. Are you okay?" I asked him, smiling a little. "Gosh, he was really gorgeous", I thought to myself as I walked over to get him a glass of water.
"Hi! I am Ted. Sorry to walk into your kitchen like this, but I was really thirsty. By the way, thanks for helping me last night", he smiled back as he took the glass of water from me.
"You are welcome, mate. What happened to you? You got beaten up real bad, you know", I asked him while I sat down on the chair beside the dining table. He took the seat in front of me and after gulping down the glass of water, he put the empty glass on the table.
"I was hit from the back by some thugs, I think", he said, without much conviction. I realized he was lying, but I thought it might be due to a girlfriend and he didn't want to discuss personal matter. I let the matter rest at that and we proceeded to talk about other things such as politics, our occupations, etc. When he told me that he was a gym instructor, I was not really surprised. What a build! We talked for some time before I had to go and shower for work.
"So, I will have to leave for work in half an hour time. You are welcome to stay since from the look of it, you can't even walk that much yet without feeling the pain on your legs", I told him, all the while hoping that he would not leave just yet. It felt so good to have someone to talk to. I didn't tell him about my relationship with Anthony, but just that he had died in a car accident.
"Hey, Jeremy. Are you looking for a roommate?" He asked me suddenly as I was about to turn around to my bedroom to have my shower. I stopped in my track, surprised.
"Are you interested?" My heart was beating like one million times a second. What luck!
"Well, are you?" He asked again, grinning widely now. Oh, gosh! This guy was just gorgeous! I racked my brain for an answer that would not make me sound so desperate, though that was what I was feeling then.
"Well, yeah! So, you want it?" I was smiling too. I could hardly believe my luck, though my conscience kept telling me that I was betraying the memory of Anthony and our love. I shook off the feeling and looked at the hunk in front of me.