Chase leaned back against the counter while she studied him, not critically, but prospectively, like she was already picturing the next phase of his life instead of the one he was standing in.
“You’re at a good age,” she said lightly. “Stable job. Your own place. Next thing we know, you’ll bring home someone serious.”
Chase didn’t answer.
She misread the silence as shyness.
“I know you’ve explored things,” she added gently, lowering her voice like it was a kindness. “But that’s normal. People figure themselves out.”
Phase.
The word landed softly but stayed.
“You’ll find the right girl,” she continued easily. “Someone sweet. Someone who balances you.”
No pressure in her tone. Just certainty. Future already storyboarded.
Not completely outside the realm of possibility. He’d dated women. He was still attracted to them. His former partner’s transition had been the thing that cracked something open inhim, had forced him to admit what he’d always known and never said aloud: he didn’t care about gender. He cared about the person.
The honesty of that had felt manageable.
Until the hotel.
Until Tommy.
“Maybe,” he said.
She seemed satisfied with that and turned back to the stove.
“You remember Tommy, right? He’s coming tonight with his boyfriend. Maria says they’re very cute together.”
Chase’s breath stalled for half a beat.
“Yeah,” he said evenly. “I remember.”
The house filled quickly after that. Voices layered. Music louder. Glass clinking.
Chase slipped easily into the role expected of him, greeting relatives, shaking hands, smiling at stories he’d heard a dozen times before.
Performance mode.
Automatic.
But his awareness kept drifting toward the front door.
He’d catch himself midway through a conversation with some family friend about work or weather or someone’s son getting engaged and realize he hadn’t heard a single word, because some part of him was still listening for the sound of the door opening and cold air sweeping through the foyer.
He wasn’t sure when anticipation had sharpened into something he couldn’t dismiss.
He just knew the hotel had changed something fundamental in how he thought about Tommy.
Not competition.
Not anymore.
He was halfway through arranging glasses on the kitchen counter when the front door opened.
A brief gust of cold air moved through the house. The noise in the foyer shifted toward greeting.
