“Yo.” I call out.
“In the kitchen,” Shaw says. I take off my shoes and set them in the shoe rack in my entry closet, then head through my apartment to the kitchen. Shaw is busy looking through the fridge. I walk up behind him and he turns his head just enough for me to kiss him. “Hey. You want a beer?” he asks.
“Yeah, thanks.” He grabs two cold ones and uncaps them with the bottle opener on his keychain before he hands one to me.
“Roger all good?” I ask before I take a seat at the island and chug half the bottle before coming back up for air.
“Yeah, I dropped him off with the boarding spot this morning. They’re gonna play music for the dogs during the fireworks.”
“I’m sure he’ll like that,” I say, smiling at the thought of Roger vibing out to some calming tunes.
I watch Shaw take a sip of his beer before he sets it down. He leans against the counter and scrubs his beard.
“How are you doing?” I ask him.
“You know. Have you heard from her?”
I shake my head. “I would have told you if I had.”
“Do you feel like you’re wasting your time with me?” Shaw says suddenly. I carefully set my beer down and stare at him.
“No. I don’t feel that way at all. I love the hell out of you.”
“We’ve been doing this a while and I didn’t know if you were sick of waiting for me to, like, commit and shit.”
“You’re not committed to me?” I ask, my eyebrows going up. “That’s news to me.”
“I am. I love you, too. I know I give you shit about wanting to get married, but I know you want certain shit and I want to be the one to give those things to you. I just—” He scrubs his hand down his whole face this time. I think I know what he’s trying to say and I know why it’s so hard for him to say it. “It’s not you.”
“I know it’s not.” I chuckle a bit, but I know he’s serious. “I know what kind of partner I’ve been. It would be pretty fucked up if you had some theory that I’ve done you wrong.”
“I know, I know. You’ve been patient as hell with me. I haven’t done the work yet and I didn’t think I would have to. I didn’t think I’d ever meet someone worthy of doing the work for. Of dredging all that shit up and trying to fix it. I’m sorry I didn’t see that I need to do the work until now.”
“I appreciate you saying that, but that’s how life works and I don’t want you to apologize for developing some issues after your own parents—shit, most of your family—turned their backs on you. But we don’t have to get married if you’re not ready. I want you to be in a good place foryou. If you’re ready to start talking to someone about how commitment makes you want to run, I think you should.”
“I am—I’m ready.”
“That’s great. And if you get to a place where marriage is something you want, then let’s do it. If not, that’s okay too. I don’t feel like I’m settling for you, Shaw. I know I’m not. I’m still figuring this out too, but the constant thing I see here is how much I want to be with you. And I don’t see that changing. What’s making you say all this?”
Shaw shrugs and takes another sip of his beer before he goes on. “After Cor I felt—you pulled away.”
“Because I was sad. And I was lonely here without her. I still am. And that doesn’t mean I want you to give up your place and move here, but—”
“You want more.”
“It’s not more. It’s a community, I want. A Unit. So I don’t have to put all of my needs on just one person.”
“But you still want me?”
“Always.”
“‘Kay, cause I do love you and shit, and I want you to have as many healthy relationships as you need to get right.”
It’s actually a relief to hear Shaw say that. I know it’s possible to make a polyamorous relationship work. But like any other relationship, for it to be good, it requires the right place, right time, right combination of people with the right amount of give and take. That’s lightning in a bottle and, as I creep closer to forty, I think I know it might be harder for me to find that special mix of people, but knowing that Shaw will still be there for me, makes it more bearable. Corrine is gone and Brooklyn can’t be a part of this situation anymore. I know I need more time to heal, but hopefully someday soon, we’ll meet the person or persons who make this all right.
“Were you thinking about this the whole drive here? That you might not be enough?” I ask Shaw.
“I’ve been thinking about this since you left Sunday night. I saw how happy Brook made you and, I guess, I thought she was aight.”
