I gently set him down on the floor and pressed a kiss to his cheek, taking that moment to inhale the lemony scent of him.
After clearing my throat, I plastered on a smile. “It’s good to see you.”
That sounded ridiculous.
When I finally got up the nerve to look him in the eye, I noticed they were red-rimmed and damp. I held out a hand to swipe the moisture away with my thumb.
“Hey, what’s going on?” I asked as gently as I could. “Are you still upset about Gordon? It must be hard going back to the office without him there.”
Teo shook his head and turned away. “No, that’s not it. I just have a lot on my mind. Do you want a beer or a glass of wine?”
“Just some ice water, if you don’t mind.” I let him busy himself making a couple of glasses of water. In the meantime, I reached down and scratched Waffles’s chin before stroking down her back. Socrates was conspicuously absent, but I assumed he was curled up under Teo’s bed or somewhere else out of sight. “How’s work? Any more travel coming up?”
It was throwaway talk, the kind you do when you’re warming back up to someone after an absence, so he surprised me when he laughed and said, “I quit.”
I stood back up and leaned a hip against the counter, reaching out to take the glass from him when he handed it to me. “Did you?”
He nodded and took a sip of his water before setting it down. “I hated it. It was stupid of me to think I could do a desk job like that. I don’t like to sit still. I like to help people.”
“Good for you.”
Teo laughed. “You look like a psycho with that giant grin on your face. Clearly you think I did the right thing.”
I nodded. “Do you need reassurance? Are you doubting your decision?”
“No, not for one single minute. I know I did the right thing. Unfortunately, Wilton couldn’t take me back on full-time. So I’m working part-time right now until they have a spot for me.”
“How’s Hattie?”
His eyes widened. “You remembered. She’s okay. Her dementia’s gotten worse which is awful, but it’s at least protecting her from some of the grief.”
I swallowed my pride and asked the next polite question. “How is Chris?”
Teo looked down into his glass of water. “I don’t know… That’s kind of what I wanted to talk about. I need some advice.”
I took a seat at his small kitchen table and stretched out my legs. Waffles decided my shoelaces were her new favorite thing. “Tell me what’s going on.”
He made his way into the seat opposite mine and held his glass between both hands on the table in front of him. I could hear the rattling hum of his air-conditioning unit and the muffled honking noises of the city outside the window.
When his eyes flicked up from studying his glass, I could see how unsure he was about what he was getting ready to say.
“First of all, I’m an ungrateful ass. I know that. But I don’t think that wanting something for a long time should mean I’m required to choose it because what happens if things change or if things are different than you thought they were, and maybe they were always different? Like, you thought things were one way but they never really were and it took getting it before you realized it wasn’t what you thought it was, and then even if you knew you should want something, it was a different thing than what you thought, or at least dif—”
I reached across and took his hand. “Shh, take a breath. Slow down.”
He shook his head quickly, his eyes wide with worry. “I can’t. I can’t slow down. I’m a terrible person, and I just need someone to tell me it’s okay for me to be selfish.” Teo’s chin quivered as he spoke, and it seemed he was on the verge of tears again.
“Sweetheart, you’re not a terrible person. And I can’t imagine you ever being selfish. Tell me what happened.” Although I had a pretty good idea.
“Chris wanted to date me. He… he thought it was time, or… he kind of thought we were already dating. Or something. I think… I think the stress of losing his grandfather maybe brought up some feelings, and suddenly…” He glanced up at me and back down at our joined hands. “Suddenly, he thought we were dating.”
“And how did you feel about that?”
He glanced up at me again, clearly not all that comfortable talking to me about it. His cheeks were pink, and his eyelashes fluttered nervously. “Surprised, at first. Shocked, really. He came into the bathroom when I was in the shower, and I kind of flipped out.”
“Are you kidding?” I barked. Teo jumped in his seat in surprise. “Sorry, fuck. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just… can’t believe that asshole. That’s not okay.”
“He’s my best friend,” he said defiantly.
And he’s a selfish, entitled prick.
I kept my thoughts to myself, but then I realized something. “Was this a couple of nights before the funeral?”
He tilted his head. “How did you know?”
“I…” I hesitated, unsure of whether or not to mention having stopped by. Surely he already knew. Surely Chris wouldn’t have been that deceptive. “You said—”
He made a choking sound. “The Milk Duds.”
We stared at each other. His face crumpled, and he turned away, standing up to move to the bed where he flopped face-first into the pillows. Socrates appeared from out of nowhere and sniffed at Teo’s ear.
I wasn’t sure what to do, so I just sat there, frozen, until Teo reached a hand out to me and made a grabby motion. I moved over and lay next to him, carefully putting my arm around him and pulling him against me in a kind of spooning hug. It wasn’t sexual at all, although I wanted him. I always wanted him. But right now he needed a friend. He needed comfort.
After a while, his voice came out low, almost a whisper. “Did you bring those Milk Duds? Was that you?”
“Yeah.”
“What… what happened? I mean… why didn’t you come in?”
His body was tense, as if he suspected the real reason and was anticipating the blow from me putting it into words.
“Chris answered the door in a towel. He didn’t invite me in. You were in the shower.”
“Fuck. That motherfucker.” His words were angry, but his tone was hurt. “Thanks. That actually helps, believe it or not. I told him no that night, but he didn’t take it well. Then I had to tell him no several more times after the funeral. I still don’t think he’s gotten the message.”
“Why don’t you want to be with him now?” I had a pretty good idea, but I still wanted to hear him say it.
“He’s my past. He’s comfort and familiarity. But… I was blind to the fact he isn’t the right person for my future. And I feel so stupid looking back on how much I tried forcing it based on a childhood ideal and a teenage promise. I was a fool.”
“You were a romantic.”
“I was an idiot.”
“You were lonely,” I said as gently as I could.
“Yes. So fucking lonely. But there are other ways to solve that than clinging onto the wrong person. It’s taken a lot of soul-searching and some long conversations with one of my friends at work, but I finally see it much clearer. I would have made him miserable. And he for damned sure would have made me the same.”