Here’s chapter 40 of the new book, Dr. Clay, I’ve been writing since NaNoWriMo 2022. Enjoy reading. Let me know your thoughts in the comment section below.
Valon held out his hand. When Clay took it, he smiled. “I like you.”
Clay flushed as he let out an awkward laugh. He squeezed his hand, smiling. And suddenly dragged him upstairs, heading to his bedroom.
Then, it didn’t long for Clay to tug him after walking inside. When he felt the hard surface, looking into his eyes caught him like a gun pointed at his chest. He anticipated he would move forward and reach his lips. But Clay remained still with his arms wrapped around him.
Valon couldn’t stop tracing every angle in his face at this distance. Clay was only a breath away from him. He was only waiting for him to tilt his head and move a bit. Should he do it? Was he waiting for him to do it?
Damn. There was something so addictive about him. There was more about Clay than his appearance. People could see how attractive he was from the surface. Yet, he struggled to figure out what drove him crazy like this. Was it his innocence? Naivety? Curiosity? What is it that drew him to like this man this way? This deep.
He wasn’t used to confusion. He had been the sole master of his fate. Now, though, it seemed he was losing control. If not his fate, then of something. He wished he knew what that something was. He wished he could stop it from slipping away. Mostly, he wished he understood what he was feeling for Clay. He wasn’t like any man he had ever known. He was maddening laid-back, but he respected him. He saw the world differently from him, but he trusted him. He liked him. He wanted him.
He waited for his mouth to come down on his, except Clay didn’t kiss him. He went over his ear instead. “How do you like me? As a friend? A muse? Or…”
“I… ah.” Valon shrugged. “I mean…”
Looking back, it terrified him to think how things had changed between them. Time had run so fast, he thought. He remembered how it was when he crashed into his clinic with low expectations, barely surviving a boring conversation. Little did he know that brief moment meeting Clay would lead him here. How did he manage to pull it all off? How did it reach the point where he would see Clay like this?
The reality snapped back when he heard him chuckling while pulling away. “You’re cute, Val.” Clay looked at him with his face flushed. “Anyway, I’ve got to leave.”
“Where are you going?” Valon said, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed.
“Liz and Alain wanted to drive around. So…”
Valon watched Clay heading to bed and taking his phone and wallet from the sideboard. Before he left the room, he reached out to his lips and kissed him. “Bye.”
“I’ll see you later,” Valon replied as he waved goodbye. He sighed when Clay turned around and tailed him until he reached the first stair. He watched Clay heading downstairs. When Clay looked up, he marshaled a smile for him and waved goodbye.
Valon did the same. He was about to head back when he heard him calling his name. He looked down and arched both eyebrows. “What is it?”
“Have you seen my mom?” Clay asked.
“Isn’t she down there?”
Clay shook his head.
“Give me a second. I’ll look for her. Alright?”
“That would be nice,” Clay answered.
Valon walked headed to their guest rooms, searching them one by one. He called out for their names and continued until he reached the last room. He saw Brutus running along the hall. He purred octaves higher than his speaking voice as he took it in his arms. “Where’s dad? Do you know where he is?”
He glanced at the last room and walked in that direction.
When he opened the door, his eyes widened as he saw Albert kissing Marcela’s lips when he entered the room, looking confused.
Albert pulled away. “Son, let me explain—”
He scoffed and rolled his eyes as he turned, leaving Albert and Marcela frozen.
“I’m sorry, Son,” Albert replied, sighing while shaking his head. He scrubbed his face with his hands.
Valon stared at Marcela for a second with a dry smile. Then, he remembered how she looked in Clay’s old photograph displayed in his clinic. At that moment, he realized Albert was the missing piece in that old photo. Now I get it.
“Clay’s looking for you. I guess you need to leave now.” His voice was low but sharp. Soft and slow but commanding.
Marcela nodded. “Yeah,” she stuttered, walking past them and leaving the room.
He bent over and placed the dog on the floor. A low rhythmic purring sound cut through the heavy air. After watching it leave the room, he moved his attention to his dad and walked closer to him. “What’s this?” His voice sharpened.
Albert looked at him and refused to say a word. His throat closed up around a sound.
When impatience overrode him, he couldn’t find a reason not to lash out. “Dad! She’s Clay’s mother.”
“I know she is Clay’s mother,” Albert sputtered.
“Have you been together before?”
Valon scoffed and expelled a laugh of disbelief. “So, you think it’s right to rekindle that lost spark? I thought you hated the Elizondos for what they did to you.”
Albert cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t you think that advice is for you, too?”
His eyes narrowed. “What?” he sputtered.
“Are you in a relationship with Clay?”
“Why would you think I would—?”
“I saw how you looked at him. It wasn’t just because he was a friend. You were a lover.” Albert paused. “End it.”
Valon scoffed and clucked. “I think you can understand what I feel right now. Think about it. You like her. I bet you wouldn’t want to stop seeing her after this.”
“Yes. Because I’m still in love with her! I’m still in love with Clay’s mother. And you were right. I’m trying to rekindle my lost romance. What’s wrong with that? Do you think I’m too old to fall in love? I waited for thirty years to make her come to me.” He paused to study his son’s grim that swelled on his face. “How about you? Are you telling me you’re in love with Clay?” But when he refused to give a clear answer, Albert scoffed again and let out an annoyed giggle while shaking his head. “You can’t be falling in love with your own brother.”
Valon widened his eyes. He cursed. “Don’t you think this is way too coincidental?”
“Marcela told me everything. Clay is my son.”
“Great. You finally find what you’re searching for. Wouldn’t it be fair to find mine, too?”
“Why can’t you find somebody else than Clay? Why not a woman whom you could bear a child?” Albert continued.
Valon shook his head. “No. Because we’re bonded.”
Albert glowered. “Bonded?”
“Clay’s mine. He’s my muse.”
“Are you kidding me? You can’t be using him,” Albert said.
“Yes, I do. And he has done a great job, Dad. He’s a wonderful muse.”
“I know there’s something more than that. I saw how you looked at him downstairs. It wasn’t just a look of a man admiring another man.” He paused to plant both hands on his waist. He briefly shut his eyes as he expelled a loud exasperated sigh. He flicked his head down before he moved his attention back to his son. “How did you come to this? How?” Albert screamed.
“I’ll ask you for the same thing, too,” Valon said coldly.
“What?” Albert sputtered.
Valon arched an eyebrow. “Nevermind.”
“Stay away from Clay. Stop using my son.” Albert turned.
Valon scoffed. “How could you tell me to stay away from him when you’re squeezing yourself into his mother?”
Albert slapped his son’s face.
Valon opened his eyes and looked down at the ground. His eyes swelled with tears, and they didn’t take long before they crawled down his face. He knew he couldn’t control himself the longer he was there, feeling shit. He widened his eyes as he took a few steps back. He looked as if he saw a ghost before him, feeling beyond terrified.
Because Albert had never hit him.
Valon dashed out of the room in strides.
“Valon! Son, where are you going?” Albert asked, approaching him.
He glared and hissed. “Whatever you’re going to say, I don’t care anymore.”
Albert wanted to interrupt, but before he could speak, Valon cleared his throat and turned around, fleeing the scene. “Where are you going?”
“I’m returning to my room,” Valon sputtered.
“Son, come back here! Valon!” Albert called his name repeatedly. When he couldn’t stop the urge to say something, he followed him until he reached his shoulder, forcing him to look him in the eye. “Would you have achieved everything you have now without me? You owe me a lot, Valon. Your life.”
Valon scoffed, giving him a sarcastic laugh while glaring at him. “Thank you for the charity. But I never asked you to do it. It was your decision, not mine,” he said as he turned and left the room.
When Valon was alone, he froze as his body swelled with shock. It was as if his soul had left his body, and his mind refused to believe what Albert said was true. But then, the longer he stayed and remained still, the clearer and louder the truth became. His eyes began to turn bloodshot and became teary. When those tears started to crawl down his face, he walked toward his bed and sat at its edge.
“Why are you crying? Is something the matter?” Agatha asked as she walked in.
Valon shook his head, planting both elbows on his legs and leaning forward. “What are you doing here?”
“I don’t want to leave you alone here looking like this,” she replied.
Valon rose and walked in her direction with a smile. When he stood closer, he felt a strong urge to scream and tell her what Albert had told him. However, this option didn’t seem attractive. As much as he tried to ignore what he had learned, he couldn’t understand why he felt a punch in the gut.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, I am okay. Why are you still here?”
“I was looking for you. Then, I saw Dad coming out of the room, so I checked in.”
“Well, it’s a father and son heart-to-heart talk,” he said, forcing himself to smile as widely as he could, though his chest was tight, feeling desperate.
Desperate to lash out and scream than pretend.
Thank you so much for spending time reading this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did when I wrote this part three months ago. This chapter, in particular, reminded me of those times when I sat before my desk, seemingly prepared to type in words, but I struggled to keep it up.
It took an external motivation to get it through, and, at that time, the NaNoWriMo event was upcoming. At that time, I thought, “This could be a great opportunity to try and give this a shot one more time. You’d done an excellent job with ‘The Rival,’ so you could do it, Mecyll.”
You know, it’s easier said than done because writing a chapter with a clear intent to finish it requires more than just a skill. Since I started writing fiction, I realized how much this work demands my ability to be naked and the guarantees to answer whether I was mentally, emotionally, and spiritually prepared to face my fears, conscious or unconscious.
So, being able to write this down meant I managed despite the countless times dancing around with depression and enjoying the roller coaster rides my anxiety provided me.
This is why I don’t know how to thank you for your support, regardless of the scale or contribution size, from sharing my work with others or buying my books. It doesn’t matter because, for me, every small act you show is appreciated.
Again, thank you, and have a great day!
If you like to support my writing life, here’s what you can do:
- Get a copy of “The Rival” Uncensored Gay Romance Novel.
- Check out my upcoming book, “Non-Native Speakers Only.”
- Find more writing tips on my website (i.e., content writing, freelance writing, copywriting, self-publishing, novel writing, and many more!)
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