Page 62 of Sweet Thing

“Please sit down Bastian.”

Bastian sneered at Max’s instruction, but slumped back onto the couch. His gut roiled with anxiety, but he needed to know, needed to understand what the hell Matti was doing in his father’s car on the day he was supposed to be flying to London for a meeting.

“Things had been… tense between Hugo and I for several years. I tried to leave him but… He was my master. He knew me like no other man and always pulled me back into his web. I knew he’d been having affairs and allowed them, just so we could keep the peace at home, but when I discovered he was seeing Mattieus…”

“NO!” Bastian lunged across the coffee table. The contents so lovingly laid out by Simeon, popcorn, candies, and glasses of tea were dashed to the floor as Bast’s hands fixed in a vice-grip around the older man’s throat. Max’s hands latched onto Bastian’s wrists, trying to prise him off but it was no use.

“You take that back. Matti would never cheat on me. He loved me. I was the only one”, Bastian cried as he shook the older man’s head like a wolf worrying its prey.

“It’s true, I swear, it’s true. I have… Proof!” The old man gasped, his eyes bulging with terror.

Proof? Bastian would need to see them together with his own eyes. He would need to see the look on Matti’s face to know if they were just involved in a secret business deal or something more. That would be the only thing that would convince him that his beloved had been duplicitous. “What proof?” Bastian spat venomously.

“Let me go. I will show you.” His grip on the old man’s throat eased and he slumped beside him on the couch. Bastian rested his head in his hands and trembled, unable to prevent tears from falling. His world was crumbling around him, and it was all too much to cope with.

Max drew his phone from his breast pocket and swiped at the screen. Then he clicked for the video to play and offered the device to Bastian. The video appeared to have been filmed in a hotel room.

Hugo Roth strode into the frame, tall and swarthy, with salt and pepper hair and a masterful glare. He loosened his tie and then dragged it from around his throat. He turned, and a wide, shit-eating grin spread across his face. Naked, Mattieus Mueller stepped into the shot and began to unbutton Hugo’s shirt as Hugo’s hands traveled the length of Matti’s olive skinned flanks and then groped hungrily at his ass cheeks. His hands parted Matti’s buttocks, and then he slid an eager finger inside Matti’s hole. Mattieus whimpered at the intrusion. Hugo gave a growl of pleasure as he finger fucked Matti. He flicked his hips against the younger man and kissed along Matti’s collarbone and throat. Matti tossed his head back; his face a mask of lust and desire as he moved on the fingers invading his body.

“Noh” Bastian exhaled. He couldn’t look anymore. He dropped the phone, stood and rushed down the hall and into his bedroom. He staggered to the bathroom and vomited in the toilet. When his stomach was done unburdening, Bastian pulled some tissue from the roll and wiped his mouth, then fell to his knees and slumped against the tiled marble wall. His whole body numbed as the images he’d just viewed burned into his brain, rewound and replayed. Bastian couldn’t understand it. How had he missed this betrayal? How did he not know that Matti was fucking someone else—let alone his father?

Back then, Bastian’s work life had been twenty-four-seven. He’d been juggling several large property developments, and he and Matti had found difficulty in scheduling time for intimacy. Matti complained of feeling neglected, and yes, he’d been a little moody, but that was no reason to look elsewhere. And certainly, no reason to fuck the very man Mattieus knew Bast hated more than anyone else in the world. Bastian was beyond stunned. He’d grieved for Mattieus for three years, and now Bastian realized the perfect, loving man he’d grieved for never actually existed. He didn’t know Mattieus Mueller at all.

Bastian cupped his face in his hands, and his whole body shuddered as sobs wracked it. Bastian cried for the loss of the man he thought he’d spend the rest of his life with; he cried for the years of his life he’d wasted grieving for a ghost, a liar, and a cheat. His heart felt empty, and the weight of the sadness paralyzed him. Bastian’s thoughts kept returning to the triumphant grin on his father’s face, and the way Matti tossed his black curls back in the throes of passion. Bastian heard a sharp knock on his bedroom door. He’d forgotten Max was still in his home.

“Are you okay?” the older man called.

That was the stupidest question he’d ever heard. Of course, he was not okay. “I’ll be out in a minute!” Bast replied, his voice stony. He scrambled to his feet, flushed the toilet, and then washed his hands and scrubbed the tears from his face.

Bastian strode back into the lounge. The colorful sweet treats scattered all over the floor were as treacherous under foot as walking over marbles. Max was sitting in the same seat staring into space. He looked as haunted and miserable as Bastian felt. Bast threaded his fingers through his hair in exasperation and slumped on the opposite couch. He stared at Max and felt a twinge of sympathy; after all, Max had been cheated on too.

“How long?” Bastian asked plainly.

“I think they were seeing each other for around nine months.”

Bastian inhaled sharply. “Nine MONTHS? Why did I not see this?”

“Please Bastian. Don’t blame yourself. Your father was manipulative, and Mattieus was very ambitious... sneaky. He wanted in on bigger projects. Hugo’s ‘MediaSpree’ development beside the river needed a head designer. That was what Hugo offered, for a price. From what I observed, he saw your father as a stepping-stone to greater things.”

“No. That doesn’t sound like my Matti. I know he wanted more responsibility, but he was still young, and I would have given him bigger projects to work on in a few years,” Bastian justified. “He didn’t have enough experience to head ‘MediaSpree.' I don’t understand why he would do this to me. He wanted for nothing.” The tense atmosphere weighed on Bastian’s heart. “What happened, Max? The police said you’d been fired—”

Max stared silently at the floor and appeared to be lost in his memories; then he spoke: “Hugo was an expert at discretion when it came to his little fuck boys. But I know—knew him too well. I found out who Hugo was having an affair with and was appalled that he’d seduced Mattieus. He sent me out sometimes, just to follow you and Matti—”

Bastian recalled the feeling of being watched sometimes, but thought he’d imagined it.

“You guys were such a beautiful couple. He knew all about Mattieus, and he knew that you were in love. I think he targeted Matti as some kind of power game. He wanted to break you both. I could not be party to that, so I gave him an ultimatum. He laughed in my face, so left him—again. But this time there was no going back.” Max rested his elbows on his knees and fisted his slick salt and pepper hair.

“Your father was the love of my life, Bast. But I just could not live with him any longer”, he admitted in a regretful shaky voice. “I was there… that day—” Tears ran down his face.

“What—?” Bastian sat up.

“I needed to talk—warn Matti what Hugo was up to.” Max’s voice began to tremble, “I followed them. Hugo was driving. He’d rarely been behind the wheel in forty years. I drove him everywhere. I took care of all of his needs. But I could see by the carefree way he laughed with Mattieus that he was… changing. He was driving Mattieus around. He would never have driven me anywhere.” Max’s voice was riddled with grief and confusion. “I don’t know where they were going, but they turned onto the Autobahn and were leaving Berlin. I had to talk to them… Had to—”

Bastian stared at the broken older man sitting across from him. He’d known Max since he was a child, and his relationship with the chauffeur had been more amiable than with his father. A shrill of alarm filled Bastian; he wanted to know the truth, “Tell me.”

“I drove alongside and sounded my horn to get his attention. I wanted them to pull over at the next exit and stop at the service station. But your father just looked at me, and he laughed. He laughed at me and then went faster”, Max revealed, “He looked happy. I… I was jealous. How could he be so happy without me?” he said in a painful, small voice.

Max held his head in his hands. ”I was furious and matched his speed. We were racing. It was just another one of Hugo’s games, and for some reason, I always had to play. But he lost control of the car—I couldn’t stop to see what had happened… I couldn’t help them. I just saw the smoke and flames in my rear view mirror, and I… drove. I’m so ashamed, but I just drove. There was nothing I could have done. I keep telling myself…”

The silence in the apartment was icy. “We had a secret apartment in Geneva. I kept driving until I was in Switzerland. That’s where I have been living.”

Bastian remained silent. He’d always believed in the quote: The truth shall set you free. But no, the truth had not set Bastian free at all; the truth had imprisoned him and broken his heart.

****