Letting Jordan go is, in the long run, the kindest thing I can do, even if it killsmeinside and hurts Jordan now. He’s young—he will heal and find someone else. Jesus, he’s so goddamned young, why should he be saddled withme?
I suppose that’s why I’m still with Elliot now. Because after all of this, I can understand his fear, his crushing, crippling indecision, even if mine come from different places than his.
Regardless, nothing’s getting resolved right now. I leave DC in a few days. I’ll be traveling with Shae for the next several weeks, an overseas, multi-country trade and diplomacy tour that’s supposed to help cement certain treaties, which will be a springboard for setting up an easy empty-net slap shot for Elliot in terms of getting him elected and starting his first term on the right foot.
I’ll table this until after that’s out of the way. I’ll be able to take several days off after our return. Ironically, Elliot’s going to be here in Tallahassee in just a few days. He’s got meetings with state government and DNC party officials, and I think he’s spending a night in Shae’s house here so he can get away from press for a night.
I finally force myself to walk away and head back to my rental car.
Later that evening, I’m sitting in a seat on the last flight of the day to DC, which I booked at the last-minute instead of waiting until tomorrow morning’s flight. Before we push back from the gate, I’m staring at my phone.
At the airline’s ticket app.
I can book myself a seat on a flight from DC to Tallahassee three days after we’re scheduled to return from Shae’s trip.
Except I don’t know if life will interfere. If work will interfere.
I take a deep breath, hold it, blow it out.
The thought of Jordan meeting someone else, of some other man getting to love him—ownhim—shreds my soul.
The boy is perfect for me.
So is Elliot.
I should let Jordan go.
I should suck it up, release him, and let him move on.
My finger hovers over thepurchasebutton.
Elliot needs you.
Jordan’s eighteenyearsyounger than me. Young enough to be my damnkid. He’s got his master’s to finish, which was selfishly interrupted by me tugging him into our chaotic orbits the first time around.
I’ve been selfish for too damned long.
Right?
Yet I still hit thepurchasebutton and then thumb the side button on my phone to confirm I want to buy the ticket by using the credit card number stored in my phone’s wallet.
Once the e-mail confirmation hits my inbox, I turn off my phone, stow it in my carryon, and lay my head back against the seat.
I’ve got several weeks to regret this and talk myself out of it.
To rationalize myself out of it.
To talk to Elliot and pin him down once and for all to firmly committing himself to me and tous. To swear to me that, once he’s elected, I’ll be his body man and we’ll at least be able to spend every night together. That once he serves his two terms in office, then he’ll be mine.
Or, if he doesn’t win, that he’ll finally commit to being with me, openly or not.
That’s…what, ten years, right? If he wins election and then gets re-elected?
I’ve already got more than that invested in us.
I can’t discard him just because this shit’s difficult.
He loves me, and Iknowthis.
