I won’t admit it, but he is right.
The words make sense. I don’t have a relationship with my mother. We can barely sustain a conversation when I visit her. The day she found out that Lori and I had broken our engagement was the first time she called for something other than money. She demanded that I fix my relationship. I’d never find someone better than her. I would make beautiful children with her.
She didn’t care to listen that Lori only cared about my money. I bet she wouldn’t care to know that we broke up because I’m bisexual.
“It’s not my place to tell you how to act or how to feel, but—”
When the phone begins to ring again, I decline the call. I text my assistant that I’ll be taking the day off. Zeke doesn’t need my issues on top of everything he is going through today. I know it’s not the money but everything that the inheritance represents. The father he never met. The mother who died too soon. The kid who had a terrible childhood.
I’m not an expert, but yesterday I discussed his inheritance with Dante. The subject has been squeezing me like two pairs of hands tightening around my throat. I’m concerned about Zeke’s reaction. The aftereffects. I want to be here for him and know how to help him.
What if he decides that a tequila bottle is the answer to fix his mood and suppress his emotions?
“She won’t call again,” I say.
It’s the wrong thing to tell him, but right nonetheless. He’s going to focus on my mother for the next couple of hours. I welcome the rant as long as it keeps his mind away from his own problems.
“That’s just a temporary fix,” he begins. “I’m not here to tell you how to handle your relationship with your mother, but…cut her from your life.”
“You’re suggesting that I cut her out, not that I fix my shit with her?”
“It’s none of my business. You’re the one who is going to live with a life sectioned off, mostly because you can’t connect with the woman. What’s going to happen if you fall in love with a guy? She won’t accept him. It’s going to be him or her. You’ll be split into several pieces not only because they can’t be in the same room, but mainly because she still doesn’t accept who you are.”
I don’t need this right now when I have to watch him like a hawk so he doesn’t spiral down and lose control of himself. Who knew he’d deliver a punch in the gut with his words? As I’m trying to recover, he adds, “Do you accept yourself?”
“What kind of question is that?”
The car comes to a stop. The apartment building where I live is right beside the car. The doorman opens the door. “Good afternoon, Mr. Killion.”
“Where are we?”
“My place,” I answer as I step out of the car and extend my hand.
“I thought we were going for a hamburger or some tacos. Not to your palace.”
“Zeke, come on.”
“I’m in a weird place. The last person I should be with is you,” he states.
“Can we discuss this inside my place?”
He looks at the doorman who stands next to the car and smirks. “Why? Are you afraid that I might say something that’ll embarrass you?”
“Zeke, do you want a fight?”
“I’m asking if you’re concerned about what others might think if I say that I can’t go upstairs because I might beg you to suck my dick!”
I laugh because he’s just being ridiculous and trying my patience.
“You can beg and plead, but that won’t happen today,” I warn him. “Maybe in a couple of years when we are in a better place.”
He gets out of the car, studying his surroundings.
“Did you hear that, Clint?” he continues, using a loud volume. I’m sure everyone around is listening to this nonsense. “He’s going to date me in a couple of years—or is it just fuck me?”
If I want him to stop the nonsense, I have to go along with this conversation. He’s not going to let it go until he’s satisfied. He was right about one thing. He’s in a weird place.
“I thought your special place wasn’t used for hookups,” I say, regretting the raging tone that I use to deliver the line.
“I’m still an ass-virgin.” He grins.
“Can we go to my apartment now? Or are you planning to wait until someone hands you a microphone?”
“You haven’t answered my question,” he says. “Do you accept yourself?”
“I do.”
“You need to confront her,” he claims, but his voice is low. Without prompting him, he follows me toward the building. “It’s hard, but you have to do it.”
“If not, I won’t be able to take you on a date?” I ask as we step into the elevator.
He touches my hand lightly. It might be a caress, but it feels like a long stroke that makes my entire body come to full alert.
“We’re better as friends,” he says, and those words are a knockout punch to my heart.
“Way to put a guy down before trying.” I try to shake the low blow.
“My life is summed into one minute at a time. One day at a time. One step at a time. I can’t think about what’ll happen in two years while I’m fighting to stay clean today,” he says, his eyes fixated on the floor of the elevator.
“It’s okay. I’ll be here for you. Every moment, you’ll have me, as your friend. Maybe after the sun and the moon chase each other for an eternity, you’ll be ready for that date.”
He glances at me, and that somber face transforms the entire elevator when the corners of his mouth finally tilt upward into a smile. “You’re so corny, Killion.”
“You like me that way.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m still not sure if I like you.”
“Your mouth says no, but your eyes say a lot more.”
He kisses me on the forehead as the elevator doors open. “We might never be together again, but you’ll always be one of my favorite people.”
Am I supposed to be content with the little he offers?
Maybe, if it means I’ll be by his side. I’ll be one of his favorite people while he will always be the most important person in my life.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Zeke
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this calm, even when I’m a pretty fucking mess inside. This moment with Ethan reminds me of those lazy first hours in the morning when we woke up tangled together in bed.
Being with Ethan without thinking about the rest is easy. Once the rest of the world slips through the holes of the bubble we lived in a long time ago, reality hits. We flitted in and out of each other’s lives for so long. When we were together, we hurt each other, even when the other didn’t mean to do it.
As I learn more and more about his fears, I understand that I was creating havoc in his mind every time I pushed him to come out. It wasn’t intentional. I wish we hadn’t been so young and that we could’ve talked about our internal pain.
I was truthful when I said that maybe we’ll never be together, but he’ll always be one of my favorite people. It’s okay to want to give up your life for someone else even if you don’t love them anymore, isn’t it?