Patrick Twenty-Three: Letting Go

I had started going to the bar on weekends with Emmanuel to perform for an hour and a half, managing to keep it from Katya for an entire year so far. That might have been bad, to keep secrets from her, but I didn't think she would have let me perform, and I needed that outlet. I just told her I was hanging out with Emmanuel every Saturday, which she was fine with, now that she had Carisa. I also didn't tell her that Jaxson had confessed because I was pretty sure she would get paranoid again just because he had talked to me. Keeping my weekend performing a secret seemed to be working for me, as Katya was slightly more pleasant when I wasn't depressed. She would smile at me more instead of scowling so much, and our sex life got better because she wouldn't yell that I wasn't into it anymore.

I never thought that being at the bar would have been exhilarating and satisfying, but it is amazing what a change in perspective can do for a person. Before, the bar was a stepping stone to bigger performances, but now that the bar was the only place I could do magic, it became special. Even though the bar wasn't equipped to do any of my really complicated illusions, I was grateful that I could at least do a small bit of what I loved. I wasn't as annoyed at Katya anymore, and when she would ask me to do one of her "honey-do" lists, I didn't mind. I felt my resentment towards her slowly melting away.

"Great performance tonight, Hunter!"

I had just finished another successful show at the bar, and was signing autographs when I felt someone tap me on the shoulder roughly, as if they were irritated with me. I turned around to see Katya standing there with Carisa, Katya looking upset while Carisa looked like a kid in a candy shop. She was probably excited to see drama unfold before her very eyes. No doubt Katya had been telling her about our marriage stuff, which was fine, since I had Emmanuel to vent to. I just didn't appreciate Carisa acting like our problems were so exciting for her, almost as if she was glad Katya and I were fighting.

"What the hell are you doing here, Patrick?"

"Um, I'm at a bar with Emmanuel, it's a free country."

Katya grit her teeth and scowled at me.

"Performance? You've been doing magic again behind my back?"

"If I had told you, you wouldn't have let me do it, so yes, I was doing it behind your back. Either way, I would have lost this fight because it's not what you want."

"Hunter! This round's on the house, for another one of your successful shows!"

The bartender called me over to the counter for a celebratory drink, which I gladly accepted. I ignored Katya after answering her most recent question, but I felt her eyes burning holes in my back as I walked away from her. I wasn't about to let her embarrass me or make me feel like shit like she always had in the past. There was no way in hell I was letting her ruin my night this time. Emmanuel came over and pet me on the shoulder to make sure I was okay. I pushed a drink over to him and toasted his glass.

"To many more future shows."

I knew I was behaving callously towards Katya, and possibly a little childish, by blatantly ignoring her and her death glare, but I deserved this, dammit. I deserved to be happy, and if performing at a bar on the weekends made me happy, then by all means, I was going to fucking do it. Life is short and I had spent too much time depressed and pissed off. This was my time. All of a sudden, Katya came over and shoved Emmanuel off to the side, grabbing my shirt and getting up in my face.

"Patrick! We're going home. We have a lot of stuff to discuss, and you're certainly not going to be doing this anymore."

"Nah. I'm going to stay here. Also, the fans love me. Isn't that right, guys?"

Everyone who had seen my show cheered and applauded, while some even blew whistles with their fingers.

"Why are you doing this, Patrick? Why are you acting like this?"

"I am taking my life back. You'll still be in it, if you choose to be, but you need to accept this part of me. I'm done stuffing who I am in a box to please you. You fell in love with me when I was doing magic, so find that part of yourself again, and come back to me."

"Whatever, Patrick. See you at home, I guess."

With that, Katya stalked off with Carisa, who put her arm around Katya. I turned around and continued drinking with Emmanuel. At least I had the support of my fans, and my best friend. It still hurt that my wife didn't support me, but I felt good that I stood up to her. She needed to see how important this was to me. I didn't know if what I'd said to her would make anything better, but I was glad I tried. After I finished my drink, I waited for Emmanuel and then we went back to my house. We were in the living room chatting when Armand came home.

"Hi, Daddy! Emmanuel! How are you?"

"Pretty good."

"Hi, Armand. Where have you been?"

"I was at Mikayla's. Mommy dropped me off there and then her and Mrs. Drescur went out. Mikayla's dad played a board game with us."

"Cool, did you have fun?"

"Yeah, I lost, but whatever. It was a good time. What are you and Emmanuel doing?"

"Nothing much, hanging out. We just got back from the bar. Did you get your homework done?"

"Yes I did. Daddy, do you and Emmanuel want to go swimming with me?"

"Okay, but not for long, I still want you to go to bed around ten o'clock. How about we swim for an hour?"

Armand nodded, and went up to his room to change into his swimming trunks. I let Emmanuel borrow a pair of mine and then we met Armand in the backyard, where I jumped into the pool, followed by Armand. Emmanuel decided to ease himself into the water. We held some underwater breath holding contests as well as some general swimming around. The water felt good on my skin, and I felt like it washed away quite a bit of my stress. Tonight was one of the best nights I'd had in a long time. True to his word, Armand got out of the pool after an hour and headed upstairs to bed.

"Good night Daddy, Emmanuel. I had fun with you guys."

After another half an hour, Emmanuel and I decided to have some beers. As we were in the kitchen, I heard the front door close, along with some shuffling around and giggling. I hadn't heard her laugh in a long time, but I still knew that it was Katya's voice. I rolled my eyes, then went out to the foyer, and put my arm around her to help her so she wouldn't fall down. She tried to stop giggling when she saw me, while also trying to regain her composure, but it didn't work very well.

Katya continued laughing, then made a serious face, then giggled again. She looked incredibly drunk.

"Are you all right, Katya?"

"Why do you care?"

"Umm, because I care about you, despite what you might think."

"Hmmph."

Katya crossed her arms over her chest and tried to say something else, but then looked like she was going to vomit. I gave her a trash can, which she promptly stuck her head down.

"Uggghhh."

I sighed, went into the kitchen to get her a paper towel to wipe her mouth, then carried her into the bedroom, putting the trash can next to her. She closed her eyes and passed out. I went back into the kitchen to talk to Emmanuel.

"Kind of looks like she had a rough night. Yikes."

"Yeah, I'll probably get some lecture tomorrow. You know how that goes."

"I'm proud of you, though, Patrick. I'm not trying to be all down on Katya, but I'm glad you stood up for yourself."

"Thank you, Emmanuel, for always being there for me, especially when I couldn't give you a job anymore."

"Aww, Patrick, our friendship is much more than me just working for you, you know that, right? I'm always here for you."

Emmanuel drew me into a hug, and I accepted it gratefully. I loved my best friend because of his loyalty and kindness. The fact that he preferred the love of men didn't bother me one bit, even if he was hugging me. I always felt the warmth that radiated from his being every time he did, and I adored his hugs. They made me feel like I mattered and sometimes that was exactly what I needed.

---

I opened my eyes to the natural daylight coming in from the glass on the windows of the bedroom. What is that smell? It's terrible. I looked down and there was a vomit filled trash can next to me. I got up slowly, and picked the trash can up, taking it to the bathroom, where I dumped the contents of the can into the toilet and flushed. Then I put the can in the shower and cleaned it out with scalding water, killing any germs and smell that remained in it. I set it on the floor to dry and then stepped into the shower, washing the bad memories of last night out of my mind.

I really didn't think that I had been taking away Patrick's livelihood until we talked in therapy that day. I thought magic was just a hobby that he would grow out of, but it turned out it was entwined somehow into his heart and soul. I did think it was cute that we met when he was doing magic tricks outside the grocery store, but I didn't understand how magic had become so much of his identity. When I heard that he had been performing last night, all I could think about was seeing him in a coma and how close I had come to losing him. He was lucky to have walked away from that coma with a fully healed body, without any neurological, emotional, or physical problems. I couldn't understand the drive he had to pursue the very thing that had nearly killed him.

I was also mad that he had done it behind my back, but he was absolutely right. If he had told me, I would have vehemently refused to let him perform. This past year, however, he had been much more attentive and less mopey, which I had mistakenly attributed to him settling into his office routine and being happier with Armand and I. I felt like a fool for being so wrong. He was better because he was performing again, it was like it was a drug to him. I thought the office job would be better for him because it was more grown up as well as being less dangerous, but he went back to magic anyway. Deep down, I knew my reason was because I thought magic was childish. He was a father now, he couldn't go around acting like a kid. I just wanted what was best for him, why couldn't he see that?

I remembered Patrick's coldness to me when I was at the bar trying to get him to come home with me. I felt sad, wondering if all of this was truly my fault. Should I have let him keep doing magic just to keep him happy? Would things have been better if I hadn't forced him to get the office job? No. I did the right thing. I couldn't sit back and take the chance that he could have died. He drives me crazy, but I love him. Now what do I do? It has been many years since the threat, and no one has ever followed through with it. Do I let him perform again, though? Will the threats come back? As much as I hate it, maybe I just need to find a way to accept that performing is always going to be part of his life.