Reaching across the table, I slide my hand into his and give it a firm squeeze, grounding us both in the moment before I force myself to let go. My fingers already ache at the loss of his warmth.
“I’m glad you had them to lean on. How’s Heather? What’s she doing with her life?”
He smiles. “You know my sister. She went balls-to-the-wall and became an attorney. Her family law practice keeps her busy. I think she dates, but she doesn’t tell me much about it.”
I can’t help but laugh. Growing up, I spent so much time around Heather, and she was a whirlwind, a force to be reckoned with.
I ease into the next subject, careful but deliberate, hoping to confirm what I already know in my gut: that he wants out. I’m not foolish enough to think we can snap back into what we once were, but if his relationship with Ray is circling the drain, then maybe there’s room for us again someday.
“What about Ray? How did that start?”
“You’re just going to ask all the tough questions, huh?” he says, mock irritation in his voice, though his eyes betray the tease.
I grin faintly. “You know me. I go straight to the hard stuff.”
He exhales and leans back in his chair. “Alright. We met five years ago at a restaurant where he was working as a bartender. I’d just finished my master’s degree and went out to celebrate. He askedme out, and I said yes. Back then, he was fun and easy to be around, always making me laugh.
“I bought my house right before we started dating, and two years later, he moved in.”
Jay pauses, biting his lower lip. “He’s six years older than me, but I think I make him feel small. He spent years waiting tables or bartending, and barely scraping by with roommates in crappy apartments. And then there’s me with two degrees, a career I’m proud of, and owning my own home.
“I could feel the imbalance from the start, even when neither of us wanted to admit it. It’s like every accomplishment of mine is a reminder of what he’s not.”
I listen silently, forcing myself not to react too quickly.
“It was his idea to post about us on social media,” he continues. “At first, it was fun, just silly couple photos. But it snowballed. It became everything to him. He quit his job a year ago to focus on it full-time. And it’s been hell ever since. I haven’t been happy for a long time.”
Hearing that both breaks me and, selfishly, ignites something hopeful inside me. “Jay, I’m sorry,” I say. “What do you plan to do?”
His lips tighten into a line. “I’ve wanted to end things for a while. This weekend sealed it for me. But it won’t be easy. We live together, and we’ve built this stupid online persona. And Ray won’t go down without a fight.”
Unable to stop myself, I reach across the table and squeeze his hand, perhaps too tightly. “I’ll support you however I can. You don’t have to go through it alone. Now that I have you back in my life, I’m not losing you again.
“And I’m sorry if I made things hard for you at dinner last night. I shouldn’t have egged him on like that.”
His fingers linger in mine for a second before he pulls away gently, smiling with that soft curve of his lips that still wrecks me.
“Thanks, Aiden. I really appreciate that. But enough about me. What about you? How in the hell did you become a porn star? No judgment, but I swear, out of every version of your future I imagined, that wasn’t on the list.”
I laugh, but it comes out rough, almost defensive. “It’s complicated. Well, more complicated than what happened with you.”
Chapter 8
Jay
Iwatch Aiden take a slow sip of his iced tea. There’s a tightness in his jaw and a shadow behind his eyes.
“Well, start with what happened after I left,” I say, trying to keep my voice light.
I don’t know if I’m ready to hear this, but I need to.
He breathes out slowly. “It was hell. My life changed the moment you were pushed out of our front door. My father locked me down tight. He took away everything — phone, computer, internet access. He wouldn’t even let me spend time with anyone outside of church.”
“Did he make you go to therapy?”
Aiden nods. “He threatened to send me to a conversion therapy camp, but after I begged him not to and promised I’d do what he asked, he made me go into counseling instead. The douchebag he sent me to told me to pray the gay away, and if that didn’t work, I’d have to live a life of celibacy.”
I’m trying so hard not to get angry thinking about what he went through, clenching my fists. “I’ll never understand that.”
