Short story: The Visit. Part five

Daniel lay back on the bed, eyes on the ceiling, trying to ignore the persistent knot forming in his chest. He could hear the muffled sounds of Michal showering in the next room—the steady thrum of water bouncing off tiles, a noise that should have relaxed him. But there was something about the way Michal had looked at him this last night, something in the way his lips curved when he smiled, that hammered at the edges of his mind. A familiarity he couldn’t quite place.

He shifted on the bed, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of Michal’s vintage-looking suitcase, left open on the chair near the window. The morning light spilled over the open bag, catching the scent of Michal’s soap—the faint floral undertone of it seeping into the room. Something delicate, almost artificial, that made Daniel’s stomach churn.

It was like a switch flipped. His body, once relaxed, now felt like stone. He hadn’t thought about her in years. Not now. Not with Michal right here.

The room felt too quiet, despite the rushing water from the bathroom. He pushed himself up, resting his elbows on his knees, his breath uneven. That scent—she had smelled like this, too. Or something like it. He’d never forget the way it clung to her.

He stood up, walking to the window, feeling the cool glass against his forehead. The early sunlight illuminated the view below, but it felt distant, unreal. That woman had torn apart his life for years. The letters. The phone calls. The break-ins. The police.

But she was gone.

“Look who’s finally out of bed,” came Michal’s voice, loud and playful, cutting through the fog in Daniel’s mind. The shower had stopped; Daniel hadn’t even heard it.

“Yeah, I needed the sleep, I guess,” Daniel replied, quieter, trying to shake the unease away. He muttered to himself, “I need to snap out of this.”

Michal appeared in the doorway, completely naked, hair still wet and dripping onto his broad, yet toned shoulders. A playful grin stretched across his face as he used a cotton swab to dry his ears. “What’s snapping?” he asked, stepping closer, his eyes sparkling with something mischievous.

Daniel laughed, though it felt hollow at first. “Nothing,” he said, forcing a smirk. “I think I’m still asleep.” His eyes wandered lower—Michal’s confidence was undeniable now. The sight of his hardened penis, the wild tangle of his lush pubes, pulled Daniel back into the present.

“Looks like I’m not the only thing that’s just woken up,” Daniel quipped, reaching out to grab Michal by the hips and pulling him closer. He marvelled at the way Michal’s body seemed to radiate confidence, the way he towered over him in this moment.

“Can I sit on you? I’m ready,” Michal said, his voice low, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He didn’t wait for permission—Daniel barely had time to respond before Michal was pushing him back onto the bed, lubing up Daniels erection, laughing softly. “Don’t worry, old man. I’ll do all the work.”

***

They sat in the hotel’s breakfast area, the murmur of conversations around them blending with the clatter of plates and the hiss of coffee machines. The scent of freshly brewed espresso mingled with the sharp tang of orange juice, while the faint smell of buttered toast wafted from the buffet table nearby. Daniel glanced around at the other guests, all of them absorbed in their own morning rituals, oblivious to the quiet storm building at his table.

Michal was picking at a croissant, tearing it into tiny pieces but barely eating any of it. His eyes darted from his cup of tea to the window, avoiding Daniel’s gaze, as if he knew the question was coming before Daniel even said a word.

Daniel shifted in his seat, running a finger along the rim of his coffee cup, gathering the courage to speak. "Michal, I really feel like I need to know what you’re doing in Amsterdam," he said finally, his voice lower than he’d intended. The words came out bluntly, more urgent than he’d wanted.

Michal’s hand stilled mid-motion, his croissant suddenly forgotten. His expression was unreadable at first, but Daniel saw something flash in his eyes—something hard, defensive. He took a slow sip of his tea, keeping his gaze on the cup. "You do?" he said after a beat, his voice almost mocking. "I thought you were the married man. Why do you care?"

Daniel blinked, momentarily thrown off. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but the harshness in Michal’s tone felt like a punch to the gut. "Are you being serious?" he asked, his voice softer now, trying to read Michal’s face, searching for some sign that this was a joke, a misunderstanding. "I care about you, Michal. That’s why I’m asking."

Michal’s mouth tightened into a thin line, his eyes flickering with something Daniel couldn’t quite place—anger, hurt, something darker maybe. He set his cup down and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "You care about me, but you’re going home to your husband. What do you really want from me, Daniel?"

Daniel felt the heat rise in his face, frustration building in his chest. This wasn’t how he’d meant for the conversation to go. "I’m not asking for details about... anyone you might see," he said, his voice steadier now. "I just want to know how long you’ll be in Amsterdam, that’s all. I want to make sure you're okay, that I can see you again before you go back to Prague." He reached for his coffee, hoping the act would calm him, but his hand trembled slightly as he lifted the cup.

Michal’s eyes softened, just for a moment, the defensiveness slipping away. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, staring down at the crumbs on his plate. "I’m not going to see anyone," he said, his voice quieter, almost as if he were ashamed. "I thought about it, but... I didn’t plan anything." He let out a soft sigh, his gaze darting out the window.

Relief washed over Daniel, but it was short-lived. Michal’s shoulders tensed again, his mood shifting like the flick of a switch. "Besides," Michal said, his voice sharp now, "you’re going home to your man, right?" He spat the words out like they left a bitter taste in his mouth, his eyes narrowing as he stared Daniel down. “I thought you understood about Alex?” Daniel said. "Alex. Oh, so he has a name now, huh?" Michal laughed but was obviously angry.

Daniel’s breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t expected the name to sting so much. He sat up straighter, trying to compose himself. "Yes," he said, his voice carefully measured. "His name is Alex." He paused, watching Michal’s face for a reaction, but the younger man just glared back at him, unblinking. "Do you want to talk about it?" Daniel asked gently, hoping to diffuse the tension. "I’m not hiding anything from you, Michal. I told you before you came—things between Alex and me... they’re complicated. But I’m here with you now. I want you to know more, if you’ll let me."

“I don’t want to talk about Alex," Michal snapped, his voice thick with emotion. His jaw clenched, and he pushed his plate away, the tension in the air palpable. Daniel could see the tears welling up in his eyes, but Michal blinked them away quickly, turning his gaze to the window again.

“Okay," Daniel said softly, leaning forward slightly, his hands resting on the table. He could feel Michal pulling away, both emotionally and physically, and it terrified him. "I thought... I thought maybe things had changed between us, after everything that’s happened."

Michal turned his head back sharply, his eyes flashing with anger. "What change? You want me to be some pathetic, broken person, begging you to leave him? Is that it?" His voice cracked, and Daniel felt the words hit him like a physical blow. "I won’t be like that," Michal added, his voice trembling with barely-contained emotion.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant at all," Daniel said quickly, his heart racing now. He reached out, placing his hand on top of Michal’s, but the younger man flinched at the touch. Daniel withdrew, swallowing hard. "I’m sorry," he murmured. "I’m not trying to make you feel like that. I just..." He trailed off, his words failing him. "I don’t want this to be over," he finished quietly, his voice barely audible above the noise of the breakfast room.

For a long moment, they just sat there, the tension hanging thick between them. Daniel could feel his pulse pounding in his ears, his heart aching as he watched Michal wrestle with whatever emotions were coursing through him.

Michal stood up suddenly, pushing his chair back with a loud scrape. "I need to go to the bathroom," he said abruptly, his voice choked. His accent grew thicker, almost tripping over the words as he hurried away from the table, leaving Daniel staring after him.

When Michal came back, his eyes were red-rimmed, but there was a calmness to his expression now, something softer. He sat down quietly, not looking at Daniel at first.

“I want to see you too," he said finally, his voice soft, almost a whisper. His hand found Daniel’s on the table, gently resting over it, as if seeking some kind of comfort.

Daniel’s heart leapt at the words, but he could still feel the fragility in Michal’s voice, the weight of everything they hadn’t said hanging over them. "I’m sorry," Michal said, his voice cracking. "I didn’t expect to feel all of this. It’s... scary."

“I know," Daniel said, squeezing Michal’s hand in his. "I feel the same way." He didn’t know how else to explain it, how to make Michal understand that he wasn’t just some fling—that whatever this was, it had become something more. "I want to see you again, before you leave for Prague. Maybe... Tuesday or Wednesday?"

Michal nodded, smiling faintly. "Yes, I want that."

“Good," Daniel said, his heart feeling lighter for the first time that morning. "I’ll text you later today, once I figure out my schedule, okay?"

“Okay," Michal said, his smile widening as he looked up at Daniel. "Just... don’t keep me waiting too long."

“I won’t," Daniel promised. He stood, leaning down to kiss Michal’s forehead, and the younger man laughed softly. "Sit down, mister. I’m not finished with my breakfast."

Daniel laughed too, sitting back down, watching as Michal took a bite of his cold toast. "Do you want a fresh one? We still have time."

“No, it’s fine," Michal said, waving him off, a playful grin spreading across his face. "This one’s good enough."

  ***

The train station was bustling with people, the sound of rolling luggage and hurried footsteps filling the air. Daniel stood by the car, watching as Michal shifted nervously, his hands fidgeting with the strap of his backpack. The morning sun was weak, casting long shadows across the pavement, and the distant sound of the train’s horn felt like a countdown neither of them wanted to hear.

Daniel tried to keep it light, making a joke about the short drive from the hotel, but he could see Michal’s eyes glistening, the effort it took for him to hold back his tears. It was a new feeling for Daniel—he wasn’t used to seeing men cry so openly, but it made him love Michal all the more. It was like every emotion was raw, exposed, on the surface with him.

Michal pulled him in for a hug, holding him so tightly that Daniel could feel the rise and fall of his chest, the heat of his breath against his neck. It was a moment Daniel didn’t want to end. He could feel the weight of it, the heaviness in Michal’s grip, the unspoken words between them.

“I’m going to miss it if I don’t go,” Michal whispered, his voice thick with emotion, but he stayed in Daniel’s arms for just a moment longer.

“Go,” Daniel said softly, his hand resting at the small of Michal’s back. “This isn’t goodbye. I’ll see you in a few days.” He wanted to say more—wanted to tell Michal how much these last two days had meant to him, how he felt like something inside of him had shifted. But life was messy, and he knew better than to make promises he couldn’t keep.

***

That afternoon, Daniel spent most of his time in the quiet hum of housework, the kind that feels both productive and mind-numbing. He unpacked his suitcase, folding and refolding clothes as though trying to straighten out his scattered thoughts. The house felt both familiar and foreign after just one night away. But it was more than that—it had been one night with Michal, and everything had changed. Every mundane detail seemed to echo with the memory of him. Even the bathroom, with its clean, modern lines and luxurious rainfall showerhead, felt different now. He couldn’t help but compare it to the steamy intimacy they’d shared in the hotel shower. Every time he saw the chrome fixtures, his mind flickered to the way Michal had soaped him up, the weight of Michal’s touch lingering in the air like steam that refused to dissipate.

He moved toward the laundry room, absently sorting through his clothes, but something felt off. His black Calvin Klein briefs and that fitted polo shirt he wore the day before—they were missing. He searched his suitcase again, feeling a small pang of anxiety. Could he have left them at the hotel? Was he so wrapped up in Michal that he’d become careless?

He sighed and grabbed his phone to call the hotel. The front desk manager was helpful, assuring him that housekeeping would be informed, and they’d contact him if they found anything. It put his mind at ease, but still, something about the missing clothes left him feeling…unsettled.

The sound of the front door swinging open interrupted his thoughts. Alex’s deep voice echoed through the hall, laughter spilling into the room. “Yes, I know, it was really something, wasn’t it?” Alex was still on the phone as he kicked off his shoes in the entryway, the usual sound of his busy Saturday morning life.

Daniel felt a bit like he was eavesdropping and called down, “Hey, good morning! I’m just doing some laundry.” His voice carried through the house, and Alex paused his conversation.

“Hold on a sec, sweetie,” Alex said into the phone before shouting back up to Daniel, “Morning! I’m on with Linne, she says hello.”

“Give her my love,” Daniel replied, turning back to his task.

He drifted into his room, the main bedroom, and turned on his usual playlist—The Hours soundtrack. There was something so haunting and elegant about it, the music capturing the melancholy of a life filled with both beauty and sadness. Michael Cunningham’s novel had left a deep impression on him, and the film’s score had become something of a comfort lately, a way to lose himself in the layers of emotion. Alex had recommended the film to him once, years ago, back when their relationship was still alive with passion and promise. “You’ll love it,” Alex had said. “Drama, dark undertones, and Meryl—you can’t resist her.”

It had been one of those moments when everything felt aligned, where the shared interests felt like more than coincidence, as if they were truly meant to be. But as Daniel sat in what was now his bedroom, separate from Alex’s, he couldn’t help but wonder if getting married had been a mistake. Had they mistaken deep affection and connection for the kind of love that could sustain a marriage? Maybe that therapist had been right—maybe they had tried to make it something it could never be. Daniel remembered how furious Alex had been after that session, how he’d thrown Daniel down on the couch and growled, “Platonic, my ass. Fuck me.”

The rawness of that moment still lingered, the disappointment that followed it heavier than either of them could bear. Daniel hadn’t been able to follow through. He hadn’t been able to feel it, not anymore. And that was the night their lives changed. That was when Alex moved into the office-turned-bedroom upstairs, and Daniel stayed in the main bedroom with its oversized bed and memories of a love that used to be.

The house itself had taken on the shape of their separation, as if the walls and rooms had adjusted to their need for space. The office, once filled with Alex’s work things, had become his sanctuary, complete with his eclectic art collection and the pieces that Daniel had never quite understood. The walk-in closet, which they’d designed together, now belonged entirely to Alex—his designer clothes and shoes taking up every inch of space. It was a reflection of how they lived now: together but apart, loving but not in love.

The pandemic had locked them in this limbo, forcing them to adapt without fully confronting the end of their marriage. But, in some strange way, the distance had brought them closer emotionally. Alex had started therapy, something Daniel had always encouraged. Their bond, though no longer romantic, had deepened in its own way. There was no more hiding, no more pretending.

“I’m going to the store, D. Want something?” Alex’s voice cut through the music.

Daniel paused the soundtrack and opened the door. “Can you maybe get me—”

“Some Fanta Pomelo?” Alex interrupted, already knowing the answer. “Yeah, yeah. Anything else?”

Daniel laughed, shaking his head. “Thanks. Can we talk when you get back?” His tone was casual, but Alex must have sensed the weight behind it.

There was a pause before Alex replied. “Sure, I’ll be right back.” And with that, he was out the door.

Daniel took a deep breath, sinking into the couch in the living room. He didn’t know why he was feeling so anxious about this conversation. Alex had been his husband, his confidant, and his best friend for years. And yet, talking about his feelings, especially feelings about Michal, felt complicated, loaded. He heard the door click open again before he had much time to dwell on it.

“Jesus, D, why are you lurking like that?” Alex said with mock exasperation, dumping the groceries on the dining table. “What did I do this time?”

Daniel chuckled, trying to ease the tension. “Nothing. I just wanted to check in with you.”

Alex eyed him suspiciously, heading into the kitchen to put things away. “Uh-huh. You sure? Want some fruit?”

Daniel shook his head. “No thanks.”

Alex returned a moment later, a platter of fruit in hand. He set it down on the coffee table with a flourish, a mixture of grapes, apples, melons, and berries. “There. Get some vitamins, D.” He smiled, but there was an edge to it, a teasing that masked something deeper.

Daniel grabbed a handful of grapes, popping one into his mouth. “Thanks.”

Alex leaned back, crossing his arms. “So… what’s going on?”

Daniel hesitated, feeling the weight of the moment. “I don’t know,” he started slowly, “I guess I just wanted to check in on you. Are you happy?”

Alex raised an eyebrow, setting down the slice of melon he’d been about to eat. “Am I happy? I mean, yeah, I think so. Work’s good. Loeck’s nice. You know, the guy I’ve been seeing? But it’s nothing serious.”

Daniel nodded, feeling a strange pang at hearing about Loeck. It wasn’t jealousy, but something else—something about the finality of it all. “I’m glad you’re happy. Really.”

Alex studied him for a moment. “Are you happy, D?”

Daniel sighed, leaning back against the couch. “I think so. I met someone. It’s… sudden. I don’t even know what I’m feeling, to be honest.”

Alex’s expression softened. He reached out, placing a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “You can talk to me about this, you know that, right?”

Daniel nodded, grateful for the gesture but still unsure of how to proceed. “He’s younger, Alex. Much younger. And I don’t know… it’s strange for me.”

Alex gave a small chuckle. “Ah, these young guys. They’re always something else, huh?”  Daniel smiled, though it felt bittersweet. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess. It’s just… he was really bothered by the fact that we’re still married.”

“Okay… Well, listen, just tell him everything. It’s not like we’re stuck here, right? We’re basically living with our best friend.” He said it lightly, but there was a wistfulness in his eyes.

“He said it like it was something horrible that I was doing to him” Daniel said with a hint of sadness.

Alex let out a sigh, rolling his eyes. “These kids,” he said, shaking his head. “Just explain it to him, D. He’ll get it. I mean, you are a nice guy, even if you are awfully Icelandic.” He winked, the inside joke bringing a moment of levity to the conversation.

Daniel laughed, feeling a little lighter. They sat there for a while, eating fruit and laughing about things that used to feel so heavy. It wasn’t perfect, but it was theirs. And for now, that was enough.

After a moment of quiet, the house settling into the soft hum of late morning, Daniel found himself staring at the floor, unsure how to broach the next subject. He wasn’t used to asking Alex for anything lately—not emotionally, anyway—but something about today felt different. There was an undeniable pull to just be with him, to hold onto this little piece of connection they still shared.

He shifted in his seat, looking over at Alex, who was absentmindedly picking at a grape stem. “Hey,” Daniel said softly, his voice almost hesitant. “I know this is kind of last-minute, but… do you think we could do a movie night tonight? I mean, just us, like old times?”

Alex looked up, his expression shifting from casual to surprised. There was a moment of pause, as if Alex was weighing something in his mind. Daniel could see the flicker of hesitation in his eyes, and he immediately regretted asking. Maybe Alex already had plans. Maybe he was going to see Loeck tonight, or maybe he just didn’t want to be pulled back into something that felt too familiar.

But then Alex smiled, that slow, familiar smile that Daniel knew so well. “Yeah, of course, D,” he said, his voice warm. “I’d like that. Movie night, just the two of us. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Relief flooded Daniel’s chest, and he returned the smile. “Yeah, it has. I wasn’t sure if you were free. I didn’t want to assume…”

Alex waved a hand dismissively. “I had some plans, but they’re not important. I think… I think tonight would be good for both of us. Besides, you know you can’t resist my movie choices.” He winked playfully, settling back against the cushions.

Daniel raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh no, don’t tell me you’re picking another Dutch art house film. The last one was—”

“Brilliant!” Alex interrupted, grinning. “It was brilliant, and you know it. You just need to stop being so Icelandic about everything. Always so serious!”

Daniel laughed, the tension finally melting away. “Fine, you win. You get to choose the movie tonight, but nothing Dutch, or something that makes me think too hard, okay? I’m still recovering from the last one.”

Alex gave him a playful nudge with his elbow. “Deal. I’ll pick something with a little more fun. Maybe just a little drama… and Meryl, of course.”

“Of course,” Daniel said, rolling his eyes but smiling. It was a familiar pattern, their banter. It felt easy, comforting even. As much as things had changed between them, there was still that deep understanding, that foundation they’d built over the years.

Alex stood up, stretching his arms over his head, his tall frame casting a shadow over the coffee table. “Alright, I’m going to take a quick shower, then we’ll figure out dinner. Movie night isn’t complete without pizza, right?”

“Pizza sounds perfect,” Daniel agreed, watching as Alex walked toward the stairs. He felt a warmth in his chest, something that had been missing for a while. He knew their relationship wasn’t what it used to be, but moments like these reminded him why they’d been drawn to each other in the first place. Alex had always been able to make him laugh, even when things were at their worst. There was a depth to their connection that went beyond romance, beyond the physical. They were partners in a way that felt almost unshakeable.

As Alex disappeared upstairs, Daniel leaned back into the couch, letting out a slow breath. Tonight, it would be good for both of them. A moment of normalcy, a reminder that, despite everything, they were still in each other’s lives in a meaningful way. He smiled to himself, already looking forward to the evening.

But as his eyes wandered to the window, where the sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the floor, he couldn’t help but think about Michal again. The younger man’s face flashed in his mind—the way his smile had lit up the room, the way his presence had made Daniel feel something he hadn’t felt in years. Excitement. Confusion. Longing. And something else he couldn’t quite name.

Would Michal understand the dynamic between him and Alex? Would he even care? Daniel didn’t want to think too much about it. Not now, not when he was about to spend an evening with the man who had been his constant for so long. But somewhere in the back of his mind, that lingering question remained: What would Michal make of all this?

He stood up, shaking the thoughts from his head. He didn’t want to overcomplicate things, not today. Not when he and Alex were finally having one of those rare, easy moments.

Alex’s voice echoed from the top of the stairs. “Hey, D, we still have that bottle of red wine from your charity event, right? Maybe we can crack it open tonight.”

Daniel smiled, shaking his head. “Sure, but I’m sticking to Fanta, you know that.”

Alex laughed. “Of course. It’s our tradition. You with your Fanta, me with my wine. Some things never change.”

And in that moment, Daniel felt a sense of peace. They weren’t perfect, but they were still them. Whatever that meant now, it was enough.