For now, my OnlyFans remains active solely for income. I have plenty of photos and videos in my archives to keep my subscribers engaged, but I’ve stopped accepting personal requests and keep DMs to a minimum. I don’t even bother posting on social media anymore.
Jay’s in the dark about all of that, since he asked me to keep my sex life, or lack thereof, to myself. He doesn’t need to be burdened with that right now. Knowing him, he’d feel guilty about me not having sex, and I don’t want to add that to the heavy load he’s already carrying.
Honestly, not having sex has been good for me. It’s been cathartic to let go of my old way of life.
Lauren continues. “And you’re there for him all the time. Maybe not physically, but you’re being the best friend he could ask forfrom a distance. When was the last time you missed a day talking with him?”
“I haven’t, you know that,” I reply.
“Exactly. That’s my point. I know this is hard for you. The person you’ve longed for is right in front of you, but you can’t have him. At least not yet. But a day will come when he’ll be ready, and I have no doubt he wants what you want.”
“I hope so.”
I have to believe that what I’m working toward, for us to be together, is what he wants as well.
“What’s going on with the property?” Lauren asks, knowing me well enough to tell when I’m ready to move on to something else.
“Just waiting on some documents to sign so we can move forward with the due diligence,” I tell her. “I’m still evaluating the coffee shop. It’s turnkey and fits with my plan, so I’m crunching the numbers.”
Buying a business is a whole different piece of the puzzle that I’m still wrapping my head around. I think it will be a good investment, and I have the money to buy it, but I want to be sure. I’ll talk to some people in Astoria when I’m there and make a final decision.
“I’m really excited for you,” Lauren says. “But I’m going to miss the hell out of you.”
“I’ll miss you, too. But we’ll still talk all the time, and it gives you a good reason to get out of New York and visit.”
“We definitely will,” she says. “I have a lot of family in the Northwest that I should probably see anyway. Speaking of family, have you talked to your mom lately?”
“Not recently. Just the text she sent congratulating me on my degree.”
Finishing school felt anticlimactic. Since it was all online, I didn’t attend a graduation ceremony, and I didn’t feel the need to throw myself a party because my only close friends are Lauren and Matt. Instead, they took me out for a nice dinner in Little Italy to celebrate.
“Have you thought anymore about trying to see your brothers before you move?”
I let out a deep sigh. “I had myself all worked up, ready to do it last week. But then this news article came out about my father and his latest effort against LGBTQ+ rights. There was a photo of my whole family standing beside him. After seeing that, I couldn’t do it.”
I can hear Lauren’s frustration. “Just because they were there doesn’t mean your brothers agree with him.”
“But they could,” I say, hating the anxiety in my voice. “I know I should push past my fear, but I couldn’t handle it if they looked at me with disgust and turned me away.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.”
Lauren is my rock, and she’s the only person I can talk to about all this, besides my therapist. Even after all the therapy and years I’ve spent overcoming the pain of rejection, there are moments when I still feel like that teenager packing his bags, forced to leave the only home he ever knew. God, it sounds so fucking cliché.
I’d love to talk to Jay, and I know he’d understand, but I can’t add to what he’s already going through.
Done talking about all of this, I say goodbye to Lauren and then play with Maisy and Daisy for a while before tackling the bathroom project I’ve been working on. I have a long list ofimprovements I want to make to my condo to increase its value before I sell it.
I know Lauren is right that I need to try to see my brothers before I move, so I text my mom to set up a phone call. It’s always been strange to me that we have to schedule our calls. I’ve always known my mom to be on top of everything, responding to people right away, but it usually takes her a day or two to get back to me.
It’s three days before I hear from her, and we set up a call for that night.
“Hey, Mom,” I say when my phone rings right at eight o’clock. “How are you?”
“Hi, Aiden. It’s so good to hear your voice. Things are fine here.”
Our conversations usually follow the same pattern—lacking clear direction and sharing little real information. This time, I plan to change that; I’m going to push.
“What’s going on with James and Luke?” I ask, jumping right in.
