I nod, looking anywhere but at him and catching the eye of the waitress who usually serves me when I come here. She points to the coffee in her hand and gives me a thumbs up, which I mirror. Caffeine will definitely be needed if I’m going to make it through breakfast with Arden Mathan.
“What have you been doing that keeps you away from home every other day, and who is the man living with you?” It’s clear from the sneer in his tone that he disapproves of Gael. That’s not surprising. It would be difficult for him to understand any sort of same-sex attraction. He doesn’t care about other bloodlines, but his own is sacred to him, and I’m a particular thorn in his side because I refuse to even consider any of the potential mates he’s suggested to my parents. He has ideas about who I should be, and I’m a disappointing descendant because I can’t be who he wants me to be.
“The man who spends the night at my house every other night is my boyfriend, Gael. We spend the other nights together at his house.” I wish I could tell him that Gael is my fated mate, but those words won’t ever pass the cage on my lips.
My grandfather sneers in disgust. “He will never belong in our family,” he growls, sounding almost inhuman.
I sigh, nodding to acknowledge his words. “I know,” I admit as the server finally brings me a cup of coffee with a bowl of little creamers and packets of honey to sweeten my drink.
“Then stop this foolishness at once. You will end this. I will not see you with him again.”
My heart breaks, hearing his order, but not because I am compelled to obey. He can’t force anyone to give up their fated mate—not even he has that power. It breaks because he will learn that he doesn’t control this, and then he will shun me and order our family to do the same, and they all will.
I take a deep breath, stand from my chair, and leave without a backward glance. He’ll think I am taking his order literally, and that’s good enough for me to escape this hell. I’m never going to be the man that stands up to the people in authority over him when they do unjust things. I’m non-confrontational. I can’t even make myself speak when someone in the same room as me is angry, even if they aren’t angry with me.
It’s why things with Sin are so bad. He looks like he’s angry with me all the time, and I can’t talk to him when he’s like that. It’s too hard. Sometimes, I can eke out a question or two, but mostly I just sit in silence, because in my head, talking will aggravate him more, and I never want to do that. As much as it sucks that my other mate hates me, I know eventually things will work out so long as I’m patient. I have faith in that.
I pull out my phone, sending a text to Gael because no matter how he responds, it will comfort me, and I need his comfort right now.
Me:Well, breakfast with my grandfather went to shit before I even got a sip of coffee. I’m coming to the cafe, if that’s ok.
By the time I get to Gael’s place of work, he hasn’t responded, and he’s nowhere in sight. Embarrassment colors my cheeks, and I don’t even go inside. I can just run through a drive through before work.
Chapter 7
Present Day
Sin
I work from home as a text translator while I’m finishing up my Master’s thesis, which is what I’m doing when Gael bursts into my living room. I barely have time to see the tears in his eyes before he throws himself into my arms, hugging me tightly.
My heart constricts in my chest, and for a moment, fear for Phin punches me in the stomach. “What happened?” I demand as he bawls into my chest.
“My grandad,” he whimpers. “He died.”
Relief hits me like a freight train and then shame. I shouldn’t be relieved about his grandfather. Gael lived his entire childhood across the street from his grandparents’ house. We spent years of our childhood running between the two houses, and just as those thoughts hit me, so does the grief.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, holding him close, letting my own hurt fill my heart with pain.
He cries in my arms for as long as he needs. I’ve already forgotten the work I was doing, and even though my eyes are dry, I hurt along with Gael. He’s always shared his favorite things, and Grandpa Vernon was his favorite. I spent as much time with him as I did with my own grandparents. Maybe even more. He was a good man, and he taught Gael and me life skills and lessons that we wouldn’t have learned otherwise; things like how to chop wood and build a fire, and how to build a sturdy shelf, how to change the oil in our car and service the brakes.
“He will be missed,” I murmur, holding Gael close as he weeps.
It doesn't matter how long later, Gael sits next to me with his head on my shoulder, and he entwines our fingers, holding my hand like he can’t bear to be separated from me. My heart, as much as it aches for him, is calm as I stare at his hand and mine. I don’t remember the last time we held hands—maybe when we were in fourth grade? By the time fifth grade came around we were aware of Western societal proprieties about hand-holding. Now, with loss hanging between us, it seems so stupid that we stopped holding hands for any reason.
“I’m going home to be there for my family and help my grandmother. The cafe gives up to ten days of bereavement leave, and I have eighty hours of vacation saved up. I could be gone as long as a month. Will you take care of Phineas for me?”
His words hit me as hard as his grief did. Take care of Phin? Can I? Do I want to? What am I supposed to do?
I’ll always do anything for Gael, but I’m not sure I can do this. Would Phin even let me? The most I can promise is, “I’ll do my best.”
“I don’t want you to come to the funeral, but I’ll let you know when it’s happening if you decide to come anyway.” Tears hang heavy in his voice, but he sits up and drops my hand, standingwith his back to me. “My phone just buzzed. My ride to the airport is here. I’ll call you.”
I would have given him a ride, but Gael…
He probably wasn’t thinking clearly.
“I’ll call you, too.” I don’t know what else to say. I’ve never seen him like this. Neither of us have ever lost anyone important to us. Grief isn’t something either of us has had to deal with, and I don’t know what to do or say to help him. I don’t even know if I should help him.
