I got home from work, from thinking about that grotesque man Ortiz all day, and boy, the house felt empty. Where had the love gone? Where had all our dreams, our plans, our goals... where were they?
How could so much, fall apart so quickly?
A light knock on the back door pulled me out of my despair. I hoped it was Andrew, but why would he be knocking? It was Greg -- he came in and we just stood there, looking at each other. As much anger as there was between us, Greg could see where I was emotionally. He knew what I was feeling at that exact moment -- and for the first time ever, I saw Greg being so kind, so gentle, so understanding.
"It sucks, doesn't it?" he smiled.
"It sucks, Greg. It really sucks."
He came to me, my eyes filled up -- I was right on the edge. He hugged me and I broke. Was this what friendship was? Was this what I'd been rejecting my whole life? A hug from someone when you needed it the most? I realized at that moment I don't trust many people-- including myself.
But at that moment I was trusting Greg. I cried a bit more, he went and got us both some water and we went out back to the patio, sat in the last sunlight of the day, and started to talk.
We talked about everything, about how jealous we were of each other, how angry I was that Andrew had offered the guest house to Greg without even asking me.
Greg confessed he was jealous of me, of the fact that I had this solid relationship with Andrew -- something he felt he would never have. We laughed... we cried... man, we did it all. Then, I really opened up.
"Greg, I took the pictures. I stole the film-- the pictures you took of Andrew."
He was utterly shocked. And I thought for a moment, I'd gone too far. He stood up and moved around a bit, trying to take this in until....
"I suspected it was you all along, Eric," he said. "But Andrew was certain it wasn't and finally, I believed him. Why? Why would you do that, Eric? And then print them, send them to that magazine to see them printed? Why?"
"I was angry. I thought he loved you and not me... I wanted revenge. I didn't think, I just did it. Was it wrong? God, yes! Add it to the list. Look at what I've done in the past few months-- I've done NOTHING right!"
I started to shake in grief again and Greg calmed me down.
He said it was okay, he said he might have done the same thing if he'd been in my situation-- he said to give myself a break.
Wow!
This was more than I could handle. Greg agreed to help me nail Mark Fitzgerald. He knew I was right in suspecting Mark and felt that Mark's goal all along was to destroy Andrew and me. Ironically, it looked like Mark had won.
Greg said, "Hey, whatever you need to get that pig -- I'm here, Eric. Just say the word."
