But this was only supposed to be temporary.
Frank chooses that moment to wander in, meowing. He’s followed a few second later by Kyla, and the pair of them jump on the bed and curl up together. It’s the cutest thing, and before I realise what I’m doing, I take a photo of them and send it to Jerry at work.
He reacts to it with a heart and then sends a selfie back of him standing under the mistletoe with what looks to be a chihuahua kissing his cheek and the message, “Rules are rules!”
I laugh out loud, my smile so wide it makes my cheeks hurt. And then groan and bang my head on the desk.
I like him.
I like everything about him, and if things were different... but they’re not. And they won’t be, not until I have my own house again and space enough to sort out how I feel.
Reluctantly I click open the property tabs and start scrolling again.
The restof the week seems to fly by, not helped by regular calls from the estate agent asking if I’ve made a decision.
I haven’t.
I still haven’t told Jerry about it either, and I don’t know why.
Liar.
I am. Such a fucking liar.
In every other way, this week has been wonderful. We’ve eaten together when we could, watched TV, and Jerry has kissed me under that mistletoe at every opportunity. We’ve not done anything else, by some mutual silent agreement, and I wonder if that’s down to me giving off some sort of vibe.
A guilty vibe.
Because I can’t let myself go there when I’m keeping such a big secret.
I need to tell him, and soon. He’s made all these plans for Christmas Day, and I don’t want this hanging over me, over us, so I need to get it over with way before then.
Like tonight.
I shoot him a quick text.
Reed: Hey. What time will you be home tonight?
I cringe after I’ve hit Send. Could I sound more like his boyfriend if I tried?
You could’ve added a kiss at the end.
Now that thought has popped into my head, I kind of want to.
Thankfully Jerry replies before I do something stupid.
Jerry: Last appointment is at 7, so hopefully be home by 8. Why?
I can’t very well reply with, we need to talk.Even though we do. I’m not sending him that while he’s at work.
Reed: So I know what time to have dinner ready for.
Oh my god. I face palm. That’s even worse than the first text. And now I actually have to cook something.
Jerry: you don’t have to do that, but thanks. I appreciate it, and I’m fucking starving. See you later x
I stare at my phone, that small little x like a neon flashing light. I wonder if he realises he sent it. If it was habit or intentional? Does he send them to Sean?
I spend way too much time analysing one letter of the alphabet when I have actual work to do and now a dinner to cook.
