A heavy sigh.
"It ties me to my family, and I'm not particularly close to them. I've tried to be, and I'd like to be because family is important, but…" Another sigh. "They've always been conservative, especially Dad, but these past few years, with everything that's going on in this country, it's like it's given them license to tap into the very worst aspects of themselves. It's become unbearable."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Darby."
He exhales again. "I did my best to look past it. Made sure to steer clear of topics that could possibly lead to disagreement or an argument. But when I went back for Thanksgiving, the awful things they were saying. About women. About immigrants. About LGBTQIA people." Another exhalation. "Something snapped in me, and I couldn't excuse or look past it anymore."
"That's a tough one."
"It's going to be my first Christmas alone, and as much as I'm dreading it, I also know I'm making the right decision."
Christmas is hard for anyone not close to their family or who might not have a large network of people around them. I've been blessed on that front. My family is super close-knit and loves me unconditionally, and my group of close friends have always had my back. They're true friends who have seen me at my worst and championed me to be my best. They're a big part of the reason why I'm here, clean, sober, happy, and not six feet under.
"What are your plans for tomorrow?" I ask, and if the next word out of his mouth isNothing, IknowI'll be inviting this almost complete-stranger to my house for Christmas dinner.
"Baking," he replies.
"You're a baker?"
"I'm actually a TV writer. Or, hoping to become one some day. If television shows still exist in the future. But baking has become a huge passion of mine."
"Become? Does that mean it's a recent thing?"
"Kind of. During lockdown, while everyone was locked inside and bored out of their brains, I discovered a TV show calledThe Great British Bake offand was hooked immediately."
I smile and settle into a more comfortable position on the floor. I could grab the desk chair from my office, but I don't want to leave Darby alone. "I actually contributed some pieces to the American version of the show."
"There's an American version?"
"There is. It's not as popular as the UK one, but everyone I've dealt with from the fashion department was super nice."
"Was, uh, Paul Hollywood involved?"
I don't miss the way his tone turns a little husky.
"He was with the earlier seasons, but not anymore." I rest my elbows over my knees. "Why do you ask?"
He lets out another breath and mutters, "This is embarrassing, but since I'm already locked in a fitting room, and I've let slip that I'm a loser with no Christmas plans?—"
"You are not a loser, Darby," I cut in. "You prioritized your needs and your mental health. That makes you strong and brave and a winner in my book. Just like how you're dealing with this situation. You're calm and not freaking out."
"Only because you're here."
"No. It's because you're strong and brave," I reiterate. "Maybe stronger and braver than you give yourself credit for."
"Thanks," he says, then after a brief pause, I hear a shaky exhale. "I have a crush on Paul Hollywood. I—I kind of have a thing for older guys."
A gentle current flows over my arms making the hairs stand on end. "There's nothing embarrassing about that. Paul's a very attractive guy."
"Are, uh, you guys around the same age?"
My ability to swallow has left the building.
Is Darby fishing?
Could he be…interested?
Surely not.
