“It’s still a bar-and-restaurant sort of place,” Greg says. “It looks like they’re starting at a better rate, though, which would be good for me.”
“Got it.”
“And the location would mean I’d probably get better tips...”
“Where is it?”
After a beat: “New York.”
Julien has never said a more loaded “oh” in his life.
He could probably handle Greg living where he lives now while working a few towns over, but moving back to New York is out of the question. He thought Greg didn’t even like it there. Maybe he misunderstood.
“It’s just an interview,” Greg is quick to clarify. “I could not even get the job.”
“So you’re taking the interview?” Julien registers how defensive he sounds.
Greg stammers for a second. “I wanted to talk to you about it first, but these past few days, the moment never really seemed right, and they asked for an answer by this morning. I knew you were swamped, and I didn’t want to do this over the phone.”
“Do what?” Julien asks sharply. Where is this edge in his voice coming from? He’s not even trying to fight it off.
Greg looks over sheepishly. “Ask you if I should take it.” Julien remains silent, and Greg adds, “Again, it’s just a general interview. I might not even get it.”
“You’ll get it,” Julien says, right as he spots the signage for the airport turnoff and a plane goes soaring overhead with awhooz.
Earlier today, he was battling with himself over a strange disinterest in going to Texas. Part of him wanted to stay here in the comfortable sex cocoon he’s built with Greg, afraid it might dematerialize in the time that he’s gone; he’d return to only the cracked remnants of a previously airtight chrysalis.
Maybe that’s what he’s been missing. Greg was undergoing a metamorphosis here, taking his time to respawn so he could return to New York City with stronger, more colorful wings. That makes sense. Even if it hurts in unimaginable ways.
“You don’t know that for sure,” Greg says somberly as he pulls up to the departure lane by Julien’s terminal.
This is like Colin all over again. Everybody but Julien has a lot in life that allows them to go, be, chase elsewhere.
Julien is here. Always here. Always left behind.
He was caught off guard when Colin announced he was moving. He might as well get the brunt of the hurt out of the way now. Accept that Greg is going, and that’s that. Pain now means less pain later.
Julien’s hand is on the door handle, but Greg still has it locked. “You’re good at what you do, Greg. They wouldn’t have reached out to you if they didn’t want you. The interview is almost definitely a formality.” There goes his tongue, refusing to be held. “And besides, why wouldn’t you want to go? We made the Best Of list. Business has picked up exponentially. It’s not like we really need you anymore.”
Greg nods slowly, sits back in his seat, unlocks the door. “Right, yeah. That’s true.”
“Like you said, better pay, better tips. You only came out here to get out of debt, which this will help you do. That’s great. I’m glad you’re going.” Julien hates how the lie feels, and to avoid sitting with that, he gets out and grabs his bag from the back. Through the open window, he calls forlornly, “Thanks for the ride. Good luck with your interview. I’ll, uh, see you when I’m back.”
It takes everything in Julien not to glance back over his shoulder, watch Greg drive off for maybe the last time, and start crying. Too bad that when he’s paying for his hand sanitizer and gum at the tiny market, he ends up crying anyway, much to the checkout girl’s visible discomfort.
Twenty
GREG
It’s not like we really need you anymore.
That’s what Julien said, but what Greg heard was:It’s not likeIreally need you anymore.
On the drive to Manhattan, cruising down 78 at a sensible sixty-seven, Greg couldn’t even bring himself to put on his playlist. All he could do was replay that conversation over again in his head. A TikTok stuck on perpetual loop, no scrolling away possible.
It sucks knowing that Julien’s feelings have not advanced past the sex pact. He thought the holidays, the paint-and-sips, and the bareback sex solidified something substantial between them beyond shared orgasms and happy hours, but he had been wrong. Again. He had thought his connection with Stryker was substantial, too. ED and maxed-out credit cards had blown that to smithereens.
Hours later, when the New York City skyline appears as he’s approaching the busy Lincoln Tunnel, he tries to hack back into that optimism he saved in a special folder in his mind when he arrived in the Lehigh Valley, the kind that he slowly started putting in the trash can the more he got to know Julien.
