Author's Note:
This story comes with a content warning for suicide, as it is implied in the story that one character has attempted self-ending. While the characters in this story are fictional, they are absolutely alive at the conclusion of this tale. This is not an attempt to describe death as an experience for sexual gratification. If anything, it is being able to explore his sexuality that gives our main character a reason to keep living. All characters portrayed in this story are 18+ years of age.
I want to give a special thanks to Emily Miller who has welcomed me into the Literotica author community, DJMac1031 for his help with editing this story, and Annabelle Hawthorne for all the support and advice she has given me with writing. I also want to thank my loyal regular beta reader Nchanta.
Why Do You Love Me?
"Why do you love me?"
"I just do."
"No, I need you to explain why you love me."
"I just love you, I don't question it."
"Well question it now."
"You're the other half of my soul, I don't exist without you, without you I'm nothing but a broken, crumbling shell of a man."
"So, I'm just a convenience to you."
"No, you're the universe I exist in. Through all the trauma, the heartache, the hardships we've been through in our lives together you're the one good thing in my life, you're the one good thing I can cling to."
"And now you just negated everything. Go, go ahead, go run, get more wine. I'm done with you."
*************
She had already been drinking all day, but running to get more wine at least had given him a break in the conversation. He was out of whiskey, anyway. Logan wasn't exactly happy with himself for drinking that entire pint yesterday. It seemed like the longer he went without drinking the harder it got to control himself when he drank. But goddamn at least if he bought her another box of wine he could grab himself another pint of gut rot Bourbon.
She had said she was just done with him before he made it out the door. Not the first time she had said that during one of their disagreements. He was still trying to figure out what he had said that had been such a wrong answer.
Carolyn was passed out on her bed when he got back. The liquor store was only a 6-minute walk if he cut across the highway off ramp through the broken fences. Sure, he had also run to the smoke shop for cigarettes since they were cheaper there than at the gas station. It was enough for her to pass out. He hadn't been gone for an entire half hour. At least now he had quiet. Yet she swore he was the alcoholic, the one with the drinking problem.
He took a shot followed by a long drink of water, then lit a cigarette. The conversation with her playing on repeat in his head. He had fucked up, but how? Twenty-three years, they had been married twenty-three years, twenty-four years come next October. Yet, she was still asking him why he loved her.
Logan poured himself another shot. Yes, things had been getting bad between them for a while now. He had even started the paperwork for a divorce last year, but he never went through with it.
The medications she had been on had made her go almost psychotic. When she had told their son she wished he had been born a girl, that had been the last straw. But still he wasn't about to just walk away and leave her to become homeless with no job or income. Not that she had ever wanted to be a stay-at-home-mom, but that's the way the circumstances had worked out. He had never insisted on that.
Now nineteen almost twenty years later, she was still a stay-at-home-mom. As much as Logan wanted out, he couldn't just leave, taking away his income, which was all they had as a family. So he stayed. Things had gotten better when she came off the medications but then there were days like today.
Yes, Carolyn had been through a lot of traumas in her life, and that still came out every so often. The least he could do was try to be understanding and compassionate when it did. Not that he always was. Fuck, this should be a conversation he had with a therapist. Not that he could afford one. Did he still love her? Logan certainly thought he did, but all he really felt most days was just numb. Numb and stressed out. The bills kept coming and his paychecks never stretched far enough. His paycheck direct deposit being two days late because of a bank outage had already screwed up several payments that he would have to straighten out Tuesday when he was back in his office at work.
Carolyn deserved every bit of comfort and compassion he could give her. But where was the person to stroke his hair and tell him everything would be okay, those days when he felt like he was crumbling? Male, female, nonbinary, it didn't matter. Logan didn't really have a gender preference. Hell, if some transwoman wanted him to suck her girl cock just so he could rest his head on her while she brushed his hair, he would be more than willing.
Logan and Carolyn's marriage was technically open. It always had been, since they first got together and admitted to each other they were both bisexual. Not that Carolyn had ever brought home any girlfriends, but there had been a few other men they had experimented with. Only one of them had let Logan explore his bisexuality with them, but it had never gone farther than mutual oral. Hell, unless you counted occasionally fingering himself up the ass in the shower, his asshole was still virginal.
Another cigarette, and another shot of whiskey. Logan had never once cheated on Carolyn. He didn't even know the location of the nearest gay bar. Yeah, there had been that one time, just after their son had been born, when he had sought an affair. He'd been younger, with a much higher libido. But of course he'd never gone through with it.
Fuck, he wanted someone to just hold him, to let him be the little spoon. Not that he had the time or money to go out and pick anyone up.
