“Let’s get going,” I agreed. “There’s some dinner already prepped, and we can wait to do more until we hear from Grayson. He could be feeling any number of things.”
Demir agreed, and we grabbed our things to head back to the loft. The sun dipped behind the trees and the tops of the buildings, sending a pink hue through the city, the kind of thing I would normally insist we stop and enjoy.
When we got back to the loft, I managed to convince Demir to take a hot shower and relax by suggesting he’d be better able to show up for Grayson that way. While he was in the bathroom, I pulled the food that was already prepped from the fridge and boiled some water on the stove. Rinsing the pasta and tossing the veggies, finally, my own memories came rushing back.
My mother was my only family growing up, just like I was hers, and we would have done anything for each other. She stormed into the middle school and yelled at the vice principal when the other boys all started bullying me and he refused to act on it, and I used to tidy the house before she got home for work every day, just so she could relax for a bit before we made dinner together.
Sure, I still felt sad that she was gone. I would never stop feeling that sadness, I knew. But as the veggies fried in the pan and water boiled to the top of the pot, I also felt grateful.
She had taught me how to love another person, and that meant everything. I just wished that Grayson and Demir had been given that same kind of love by their parents. The fact that they had each grown into such kind, strong men without it still knocked me off my feet.
Demir stepped out of the shower, and shortly after, the buzzer to the loft rang. We hurried to let Grayson in, and immediately, my heart broke for him. His stubble was grown out after missing a day or two of shaving, and his usually bright, hopeful eyes were drawn to the ground, sinking with sadness. Demir and I took him in our arms, and as we held him in the silence, his tears came.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I don’t want to put this on you.”
“Shhhh, my sweetheart, shhhhh,” I whispered back. “We’re just glad you came to us.”
“Whatever you need,” Demir said, his voice straining. “Anything at all.”
We brought Grayson to the kitchen and served him a big bowl of pasta and veggies. He tried to eat, but the grief must have taken his appetite. He only managed to get a few bites in and to tell us a little more about the horrible phone call he received from his father.
I saw Demir tense, anger at Grayson’s father reddening his face. I could practically hear the rant in his head, the frustration he always felt when someone he loved was rejected or hurt for being true to himself.
Grayson slumped against the counter, and Demir and I exchanged a glance. There was plenty to say, and plenty to ask him about, but it was clear that now wasn’t the time. Now he just needed to feel held, and that was something we could do.
“Would you like to lie down?” Demir asked.
Grayson nodded. He parted his lips, about to say something, but then shut his mouth quickly. Still, somehow, I knew where his mind was.
“You’re welcome to stay in our bed,” I said. “If you’d like the company.”
“If that’s okay,” Grayson said quickly. “I don’t want to impose.”
Demir placed his fingers on Grayson’s chin and, very lightly, pulled his face up, catching his eyes.
“You’re welcome here,” he said. “You’re welcome with us.”
