"I get it. You have a family. Real responsibilities. People who depend on you."
"They're part of why I can't just drop everything and move here, even if you wanted me to. Even if circumstances were different." I take his hand, lace our fingers together. "I have obligations. People counting on me. It's not just about what I want."
"I would never ask you to abandon them. I'd never ask you to choose."
We sit in silence, our hands joined, both of us staring at nothing. I can feel the minutes ticking away, each one bringing us closer to goodbye.
"I want to say something about the money," I start carefully. "About what we talked about this morning."
"Ivan..." He warns.
"Just hear me out. Please. I'm not trying to start a fight." I turn to face him more fully. "When you say you won't take my money because you don't want charity, because you don't want to be a project, I understand that. I really do. I respect it. Your pride, your independence, your need to stand on your own. But I need you to understand something too."
He waits, watching me with those dark eyes, his expression tight.
"You're my family," I say, and I mean it with everything in me. "Not just because we grew up together or because we're whatever we are now. Boyfriends, partners, whatever word we want to use. You're family because you're the only person in the world who knows what I went through growing up. You're family because when I think about my future, you're in it. Always."
He nods at me, but doesn't interrupt.
"Rosalyn and Mitchell have helped me with things I couldn't afford on my own over the years," I continue, needing him to understand this. "Doctor's appointments when I got sick. Trade school books that cost money. My truck insurance when I was first starting out and barely making minimum wage. They never once called it charity. They never made me feel small or dependent. They called it being family. They said that's what families do. They help each other."
I squeeze his hand.
"So, when I offer to help with the arrest, with paying back Mick, with whatever you need, it's not because I think you're a project that needs fixing. It's not because I see you as less than me or broken. It's because that's what family does. And you're my family. You've been my family since I was twelve years old."
Jay is quiet. His eyes are fixed on our joined hands, his throat working as he swallows hard.
"I hear you," he finally says. "I'm not saying yes. I'm not saying I'll take the money. But I hear what you're saying. I understand where you're coming from."
"That's all I'm asking. Just think about it."
The hours slip away too fast after that, time accelerating like it always does when you want it to slow down. We lie on the bed together, my head on his chest, his fingers running through my hair in slow, soothing strokes. Neither of us talks much. We just breathe together, exist together.
"Tell me about the kids," Jay says after a while, breaking the comfortable silence. "The ones at Rosalyn's house. You mentioned them but I want to know more."
"What do you want to know?"
"Everything. What are they like? What do they do? What makes them laugh?"
I smile, picturing them. "Caleb is six. He's obsessed with dinosaurs. Like, completely, utterly obsessed in the way only six-year-olds can be. He can name every species, tell you what era they lived in, what they ate, how big they were, what their fossils look like. He corrects the teachers atschool when they get dinosaur facts wrong in science class. The teachers think it's adorable. Caleb thinks he's just being helpful."
Jay laughs, and the sound fills the room. "Sounds like a handful. Sounds like a kid who's going places."
"He is. But he's sweet too." I trace a pattern on Jay's arm, feeling the warmth of his skin. "He still crawls into my lap when he's tired, even though he's getting too big for it. Still wants me to read to him every single night. Same dinosaur encyclopedia, same pages, over and over. I could recite the Tyrannosaurus Rex entry from memory at this point."
"That's really sweet. You're good with him."
"The twins are ten. Diana and Destiny. They're identical. I mean truly identical, same face, same hair, same height, same everything. But their personalities are completely different." I shift slightly, getting more comfortable. "Diana is the serious one. Straight A's in every subject, always worrying about tests and homework and whether she's doing enough. She stays up too late studying sometimes and I have to make her put the books away and go to sleep. Destiny is the wild one. She's always getting into trouble, dragging Diana along with her on adventures."
"And they all live with Rosalyn permanently? Or are they waiting to be adopted?"
"They live with Rosalyn and Mitchell, yeah. Caleb's parents' rights were terminated. There's some complicated situation with drugs and neglect. The twins' mom is in prison, serving a ten-year sentence for something. I don't know all the details. Rosalyn doesn't talk about the kids' backgrounds much. Says it's their story to tell if they want to." I pause. "Mitchell is trying to adopt all three of them officially. The paperwork is in process."
"What's the house like? I can't even imagine what it's like living with that many people."
"Loud." I laugh. "Always loud. Someone's always yelling or laughing or playing music too loud or arguing about whose turn it is to do dishes. There's never a quiet moment. Never a second where you can't hear someone else existing."
"Sounds overwhelming. Sounds chaotic."
