Chapter Text
It was annoying.
No, it was worse than that.
Hurtful better described it—the way Armand was so dismissive of everything that was important to Louis.
He stared at the phone, thumbs tapping quickly at the screen as he texted, straining to keep his face casual because he could see his friends looking at him from the corner of his eye:
You promised you’d be on time
It was against my control. It’s not as if I want to be at work at 8 p.m. on a Friday evening.
This is embarrassing. We’ve already been waiting on you for an hour. Can’t you just tell them you have to leave?
And risk the biggest account we have? I’m sorry. I’m not sure what you expect me to do. They flew all the way from Switzerland for this meeting.
Armand, you PROMISED.
I have to work. Give Lily my best. I’ll see you when I get home. It’s going to be late. Don’t wait up. I love you.
I love you.
Armand used those words casually. Routine. Empty. His actions had never matched his sentiments.
He had become increasingly distant over the last year, constantly distracted, face always buried in some form of electronic device. His workdays were often long, just like many in the corporate world, but soon he was working well into the night. Nights turned into weekends, and not long after that, business trips had become the norm in the relationship.
Armand’s attitude eventually became as mercurial as his work schedule. At first he’d apologize, kiss Louis with a promise to do better or try harder. Eventually, the apologies lost sincerity, turning into excuses and defenses. After that, Armand wouldn’t even bother to care, scoffing and rolling his eyes when Louis would suggest anything.
But Louis refused to give up on them. He clung to the good memories, those early years filled with spontaneous lovemaking that lasted well into the morning.
Stimulating conversations over gourmet dinners and aged wine that stretched late into the night.
Of course, there were the afternoon picnics, the little outings Armand would plan that resulted in laughter and make-out sessions rolling in the grass.
Then there was the gentleness.
So much gentleness, it could have seemed excessive at the time. Armand never raised his voice, hardly disagreed, and Louis’ wish was his command. Louis had been the center of his universe, and that had always left him feeling overwhelmed. But now, Louis yearned for the time when they carved out space for each other.
The lovemaking had become little more than a perfunctory way to scratch an itch. Conversations had been reduced to “good morning,” “goodbye,” and “working late again.” The picnics were long-gone memories, replaced with Louis occasionally accompanying Armand to some work-related gala, hanging silently off Armand's arm like a diamond incrusted wrist watch or a silk tie, while he networked among a room full of designer suits.
And the gentleness? It was still there, but lacked tenderness, understanding, and patience. Armand still never raised his voice and surrounded Louis with grandeur, giving him every material thing he never asked for. Yet the gentleness felt little more than disregard.
But the love was still there, wasn’t it? It had to be—why else would Louis feel so miserable if it wasn’t?
Louis wanted to scream. Tuck his head into his arms and scream to release the ever pent up frustration that gnawed at his insides. But he couldn’t, not here, not in this packed restaurant, sitting across from his pregnant best friend and her husband. So, he did what he’d grown used to over the years. He forced a smile and placed his phone face-down on the white tablecloth.
“Armand’s not gonna make it. He got caught up at work. The man’s a workaholic,” Louis said, struggling to maintain the quivering smile stretched across his face like this was no big deal. It was.
Lily smiled softly, but her eyes carried a glimmer of pity. “Yup. A workaholic,” she echoed. Her gaze flickered toward her husband, who stared silently at the table. “Well, let’s order. If I don’t feed this baby soon, he’ll make sure I don’t sleep another night until he arrives!” She laughed, rubbing a soft circle around her protruding belly.
Louis caught the look she gave her husband, the quick, knowing glance. He wasn’t as oblivious to the sympathy as he pretended to be. Over the ten years of his marriage, he’d given Lily just as many excuses for Armand’s behavior as Armand gave him for always disappointing him.
But he was grateful that Lily understood, so he never had to say it.
“I think I’m gonna have the crab cakes,” Louis said, forcing a cheerful tone. “What about you guys?”
They placed their orders, and Louis excused himself, blaming the wine for his sudden need to step away.
Out of sight from Lily and her husband, Louis found a quiet corner, his phone clutched tightly in his hand.
Louis stared at the screen for a few seconds, Armand’s office number mocking him. The hesitation made the small device feel like a brick in his hand.
If Armand was really at the office, his secretary, Eglee, would be there too. She was paid handsomely to work until Armand left—always present to take notes, make calls, and file contracts as he closed deals.
A voice in Louis’s head told him not to call. He didn’t need to confirm what intuition already knew. But something compelled him to take the plunge.
The phone rang, each tone sharp in his ear. It went to voicemail. Louis hung up before the automated greeting finished, bile rising in his throat as the wine churned uncomfortably in his stomach.
He braced himself, letting out a slow breath. When he returned to the table, his smile was back in place, as practiced as ever.
❌❌❌
Louis soaked in a long, warm bath, hoping the hot water would ease the tension in his body and distract him from his incessant glances at the clock.
After drying off, he went through his nightly routine—brushing his teeth and tidying up the house.
When the place was as clean as the housekeeper would allow without chastising him the next day, he settled down with his Kindle in the dark, trying to keep his racing thoughts at bay. He hated the electronic gift Armand had insisted on; he missed the soothing pages of a book. Something grounding. Something authentic. His longing for the past.
Just as Louis was drifting off, he heard the front door click shut.
He blinked sleepily at the clock on his bedside table.
1:07 a.m.
Armand walked into the bedroom, already peeling off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt in the dim light of the master bathroom.
Louis watched for a moment, unnoticed in the dark. He studied his husband, looking for any indication that his evening had been work-related. He saw the exact moment a memory came to Armand; a muted smile flickered across his face.
Louis couldn’t take it any longer. He reached for the lamp on the bedside table, and the muted light filled the room, interrupting Armand’s reverie.
Armand looked up in surprise. “It’s late. Why are you still awake?”
Louis met his gaze with a flat expression. “Waiting on you. You weren’t answering your phone. It’s one o’clock in the damn morning—”
“I know it’s late. I should’ve called. I got caught up with Mr. Baumman. My German is rusty, and he drove a hard bargain.”
Louis kept his face unreadable. “Did you make sure Eglee got home okay?”
“Of course.”
Louis’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t lie to me, Armand. I called your office. Eglee didn’t answer.”
Armand rolled his eyes. “Louis, please. I’ve been working all day, and I’m exhausted. I’m too tired for a game of ‘where were you this time.’”
“They aren’t accusations when you lied about where you’ve been. You think I’m stupid?” Louis stood, pacing toward his husband in the bathroom doorway.
“I don’t think you’re stupid, I think you’re paranoid.”
“Paranoid? Are you serious right now?” Louis’s voice shook. “I just spent the evening as the third wheel on what was supposed to be a couple’s date. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was?”
“Lily? She’s the obnoxious redhead from the gallery, correct?”
Louis let out an exasperated sigh. “Lily from Nola. Lily is one of my closest friends, whom you’ve met countless times, and you still can’t remember what she looks like? We've been married for a decade and you still haven't met her husband. It’s like nothing important to me is important to you! Kind of like you didn’t shed a damn tear when my brother died!”
Armand shot him a warning glare. “That’s not fair, Louis. Firstly, Paul despised me for delivering his dear brother into the clutches of hell, and second, we all grieve differently.”
Louis let out an indignant huff before his eyes welled up and his old friend defeat reappeared, the anger dissipating from seconds before. “You promised you’d put in more effort. You promised things would be different. Or was that just something you say to get me to shut up and out of your way?”
Armand’s shoulders slumped, and for a moment, he looked genuinely remorseful. “Louis… I apologize. I’m truly sorry I hurt you.”
Louis was struck by the sincerity in Armand’s tone—but it only made him more wary. “What exactly are you apologizing for?”
A long silence stretched between them. Armand opened his mouth, on the cusp of admittance, his eyes closing as if a headache were coming.
This was it. This was the moment Armand would confess everything. But what would Louis do once he did? Louis’s hands wrapped around himself as he waited, bracing for the emotional impact.
Then Armand opened his eyes. They were soft, like he had reset, shifted gears. He gently took Louis’s hand and guided him to sit on the edge of the bed. Crouching down to eye level, he cupped Louis’s chin, their gazes locking.
“I apologize for putting work before you, Louis. As I said, Baumman was a challenge. A skilled negotiator I severely underestimated. It took much more effort than I anticipated. When he wouldn’t budge, I took him out for drinks and showed him what an American gentleman’s club looks like. Two dances and three drinks later, he was ready to sign.”
Louis stared at him, searching his face. One hundred questions ran through his mind but he was only brave enough to ask one. “You swear you were with clients?” He hated the eagerness in his voice; he sounded like he was begging Armand to lie to him, to tell him what he wanted to hear.
Armand looked at him with wide, earnest eyes. “Beloved, there is nowhere else I’d rather be than here with my beautiful husband. You have to trust me. I’m not sure where I went wrong that has you so unsure of me, of us.”
Louis felt a wave of guilt that drowned out that nagging voice telling him his husband was taking him for a fool. “I’m sorry. I… I didn’t know where you were, and my imagination just ran wild.”
Armand stroked Louis’s cheek gently with the back of his knuckles. “It’s my fault,” he murmured, drawing Louis into a lingering kiss. The faint smell of cheap cigarettes clung to his hair. “I should’ve called. I got caught up in the negotiations.” He placed another soft kiss on Louis’s lips before standing up.
“Beloved, maybe it’s time to get back out there in the work field. Do something to occupy that busy and beautiful mind of yours. It’s been a year since Paul passed. I know it’s been a challenge, but this could be good for you. It could be good for us.”
Louis ran a hand over the feather-down comforter, watching the movement so he didn’t have to meet Armand’s scrutinizing gaze.
He had been thinking about it. Louis had a difficult time when his mother died, but Paul’s passing had hit him like a freight train. He took leave from his job and let it stretch until he decided he wasn’t going back. It had always been more of a hobby anyway. But maybe Armand was right. It was time to get on with his life.
Their home was starting to feel like a cage—a prison of marble countertops, an unused kitchen with shiny new appliances, and white walls. The expansive views of Central Park felt more like art on the wall than a place just beyond the thick glass.
“You’re right. I’ll call Madeleine at the gallery Monday. I agree, I think it’s time to put myself back out there.”
Armand gave him a soft smile and nodded approvingly.
“I’m going to take a quick shower. I smell like an ashtray.”
“Want me to join?”
“That would be wonderful if I had the energy to do more than bathe. I’ll be quick, then I’ll hold you. You can read to me.”
Louis nodded and crawled back into bed, pulling the down comforter over his legs. Despite the lingering annoyance that Armand had put him on the back burner, a quiet warmth settled over him. He’d bring that up in their counseling session on Thursday. For now, he wanted to savor the rare tenderness between them.
❌❌❌
It was Friday morning when Lily called and invited Louis to brunch.
He jumped in the shower, washing away the remnants of their vigorous lovemaking from the night before. It had been some time since they had been like that.
He would have loved to spend a few more hours in bed, tangled in limbs, basking in the rekindled heat between them, but Armand had an early meeting that could not be rescheduled. He was also excited to see Lily because he wanted to tell her how well his and Armand’s counseling session had gone yesterday. Louis finally felt like they had a breakthrough.
Armand, who typically disrupted the one-hour session at least three times with calls he insisted were work emergencies or emails he swore couldn’t wait, sat there with active participation, acknowledging that he was a work addict who had regretfully neglected his marriage.
He rested a hand on Louis’ knee as he promised to be better and to put work into their marriage.
Louis was left speechless when Armand suggested taking a romantic vacation to rekindle the passion that had gone dormant in the mundanity of a decade-old marriage between two people who were never truly all that compatible.
It had been three years since they had gone on a vacation.
Lily sat at a bistro table for two on the patio, sipping a warm beverage. She looked lost in thought as Louis approached.
“Hey there,” he said, sliding into the chair across from her.
“Hey,” she said, with a smile that conflicted with her eyes.
Lily had been Louis’ best friend since college, and in that time, they had grown to know each other well. Louis didn’t have to tell Lily the details of his feelings because she could read him, as if his head were transparent and she could see every thought like closed captions on a television screen. This was a mutual phenomenon between them.
“What’s wrong?” Louis asked, not wasting time beating around the bush.
“That obvious?” she asked softly.
“That obvious,” Louis responded. “What’s going on? Is it the baby?”
“No, no, the baby is fine.”
“Did the ol’ man step out of line?”
“No, Anthony is perfect.”
“You look... perturbed, Lil. Tell me what’s the matter.”
“Perturbed?" Lily chuckled, before moving her purse so Louis could sit. "Everything’s fine with me, Lou. I ordered you a macchiato.”
Louis eyed her suspiciously but gave her the same grace she always extended to him and didn’t press the issue. She was obviously working up the nerve to tell him whatever was bothering her.
The waitress came and placed the warm beverage in front of Louis, paired with a muffin on a small plate.
They made small talk while they ate, and Louis was happy when Lily casually asked how things were going with Armand, so he could fill her in regarding the positive, though small, changes he had seen in his husband since their failed attempt at a double date.
“Things are actually pretty good. For the first time in the last few years, I feel like he’s trying. You should’ve seen him at the therapist’s yesterday. We had a good session, and for the first time, I feel like things are finally gonna be okay between us.”
“I’m happy to hear that, Louis. You know I want you to be happy.” She hesitated a moment, readjusting in her chair.
There it was again. She was trying to find a way to say something, and it was unlike Lily to struggle this much with talking to Louis. That is, unless it was pertaining to him, because she knew Louis didn’t like getting into depth on issues that had run deep in his marriage.
“Lily, I know you have something to say, so please, just tell me. You’re making me nervous.”
Lily leaned forward, opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again.
Louis knew that whatever it was, it was going to be bad.
“Louis…” she started. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but… you know the venue Anthony owns in Greenwich Village? The one that hosts live music bands? Well, Anthony’s been spending a lot of time there recently, trying to get it to take off…”
Louis looked at her puzzled, unsure what to do with that information. “Uhh… good for Anthony?”
“I’m not finished, Louis. He said he’s seen Armand there lately. More than once. Three times, to be exact.”
“That’s weird… Armand’s not one for those types of establishments. No offense, it’s just…Armand’s not into the whole rock scene. Is he sure it was Armand?”
“Armand isn’t exactly inconspicuous with his six-foot frame, European accent, and designer overcoats in a place like that.”
“Well, uh, okay. I’m not sure what Armand would be doing in a place like that. Hell, maybe he’s meeting clients. I’m sure he would have mentioned if he’s taken a recent liking to live bands if it was anything other than work related.”
Lily sighed deeply before ripping off the bandaid. “Or maybe he’s meeting someone in particular. Maybe he hasn't mentioned that he’s taken a recent liking to live bands because he’s taken recent liking to a certain member.”
Louis stared at her stunned at her implication, but unsurprised with her theory, nostrils flaring, lips sealed into a thin line. He waited a moment to until he was sure he could keep the shakiness out of his voice. “Why do you assume Armand is cheating?”
Lily took Louis’ hand into both of hers. “There’s a particular band that’s been playing there. They’re booked for five nights a week over the next several months. They call themselves ‘The Vampire Lestat.’”
Louis snickered and took his hand back. “Ridiculous name.” He stared into his cup of coffee.
“Some blonde French guy. Sounds like Bowie and pretends to be a vampire.”
“This gets even more ridiculous as you go. That could mean anything though, Lil. What makes you think Armand is up to no good?”
“Ant says Armand brought a bouquet of flowers to this guy. They were having a drink and getting pretty handsy. Anthony’s pretty sure they left together afterward.”
Louis’ hands trembled as he tried to bring the mug to his lips. “Pretty sure or positive?”
“Well, I don’t know. They left at the same time.”
“But that doesn’t mean they left together.”
“Well, no, I guess it doesn’t. But you don’t think it’s odd that he would bring this guy flowers?”
“Armand buys a lot of clients gifts. Expensive bottles of wine, crystal decanters, tickets to Broadway—anything to close a deal.”
They locked eyes for a few silent moments, both unsure of what to say next, before Lily relented. “Whatever you say, Lou. I just thought you should know.”
Louis stood, pulling a $20 bill from his wallet and placing it on the table. “I gotta go. I have some errands to run.”
“Louis, wait, you don’t have to go. You’re not upset with me, are you?”
Louis kissed her on the cheek. “Not at all. I’ll call you later.” And he strode off, pace quickening the further he got from her. He threw up in a trash can before he entered the taxi.