He looks at me like this is a completely normal conversation, and not one in which he just said “sure, if you want” to the concept of moving in with me.
Jason, who yelled “Fuck, yes!” when his favorite pizza place widened their delivery radius.The guy is capable of showing excitement. He’s incapable ofhidingexcitement.
I don’t know what this is, but it’s not excitement.
“Is that it?” I say. “Yeah, sure?”
“I mean, yes. I said yes.”
He did, and I should be happy about that. But the utter lack of enthusiasm is not only uncharacteristic but deeply disturbing. I clear my throat. Maybe we just need to talk about it more, and whatever weird thing this is will pass.
Maybe thenallthose little weird, off-moments we’ve been having lately will pass.
I desperately want this to happen, so I keep trying.
“Do you have any thoughts about how we would do that?”
“Um,” Jason says. “I’m good with whatever you want to do.”
My mouth falls open. Not that I expect Jason to have some ten point plan—that would be my department—but because moving in together, sharing a space, is a really big deal.
“You have no opinion about this.”
Jason shrugs again. “You just brought it up. I haven’t really thought about it.”
I don’t know how to respond to that.
“My lease is up in a couple of months,” he continues. “So this is probably good timing.”
Good timing that he has apparently never considered, even though he knew his lease was ending, even though we’ve been together for twoyears.
“So you want to move into my place?” I ask.
Jason hesitates, like he doesn’t, really, but realizes he basically just implied it. “If that’s what you want to do, that’s fine with me,” he says finally.
“Fine.Great.” I’m sounding irritated and passive-aggressive, but really, I feel like that’s earned.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” I say. He just saidsure, fine, whateverto the idea of moving in with me.
Jason sits up and reaches for his duffel. His shirt has pit stains from setting up camp in the heat, and he has to be on camera soon, so he should probably change. I really shouldn’t have started this conversation when we both have jobs to do—and one of mine is late.
But there’s no going back now, even if I wish I could. I was afraid that Jason wouldn’t be ready, but I expected he would tell me so if that was case.
What does it mean that after being together this long, he’s not ready for any more?
What does it mean if he won’t evenadmitit?
Jason’s arms are elbow-deep in the bag before he comes up with a t-shirt. He watched me organize mine with an outfit for each day folded together, so that what I need will always be on top. I offered to do the same to his, but he said he’d just mangle it immediately.
Given the way he’s muscling that shirt out of the bag, he’s probably not wrong.
“Do you want to go for a hike?” Jason asks. “We need to scout locations for the different climbs.”
He doesn’t seem inclined to talk about this anymore, and I’m not sure I even can right now, not with my lungs feeling like an anaconda has taken up active residence there. “Maybe later. I need to finish that marketing project and send it off to Connor.”
Jason finally gets his shirt free and glares at it. He always gets that way when I talk about Connor, even though Jason is usually not the jealous type. I don’t know what his issue is with my client, who is a work friend and nothing more. Most of the time, I just overlook it, but after his lackluster response to moving in with me, I feel like pressing the issue.
