I’ll never forget how Marco’s face looked right then. I expected him to balk, to look disappointed or angry at Demir’s announcement. This was the plan they’d been working on since I met them, and here he was, declaring he wanted to drop the whole thing.
But Marco? The smile that filled his face was as bright as the sun.
“You’ll drop the plan?” Marco said. “But what about the money we invested?”
Demir winced. Apparently, that kind of money did still hurt for them after all. “It’s a big loss,” he said, “and I bear responsibility for it, I know. But just because I made a mistake once doesn’t mean I should keep making it now that I know better.”
“So that’s it?” I asked. “You’ll just keep The Forty-Eight like it is?”
“Not exactly,” Demir said. “The new club will take a big bite out of our business. The dance night won’t take nearly as much time and labor, and our crowds will start shrinking. Which is good because it means a lot more free time for us. And maybe, even, a new path for you, Marco.”
Marco tilted his head, his eyes narrowed again. “A new path?”
Demir sat back down at the table, then looked between us. “Marco, the club has always been my passion. You’ve loved it, too, but it’s never been your true dream. Your true dream is more like what I saw at the craft center.” He turned to me. “It’s more like Grayson’s work.”
And then he launched into the vision. It was a little building a block away from the loft, in the opposite direction of the club, and right in the middle of a few other small shops and a bakery. Demir described every inch of it, from the empty flower boxes in front to the old, intricate crown molding on the walls. The perfect storefront, he said, for someone with a very discerning eye to stock.
The perfect place for Marco to have his own shop.
But it wasn’t just a great deal on real estate that got Demir excited. Rolling up his sleeves and leaning forward on the table, he described the back of the building, too. The previous tenants had built a small workshop there, where the owner took on woodworking projects.
“It was a sturdy space,” Demir said, “with all the setup someone would need to install something like a professional craft studio.”
I paused when he said it and realized that he wasn’t just talking to Marco. He was talking to me, too.
He was talking to us.
“A craft studio?”
“I used to say I would own a shop one day,” Marco said quietly, almost as though to himself. “But that was years ago, before we opened the club. I haven’t even thought about that since…”
He trailed off, and Demir took his hand, then turned to me. “Don’t you see it? You could work in the back, Grayson. And Marco could have his shop in the front.” He turned back to Marco. “You always talk about how much you love objects that are made by hand. Grayson can connect you with artists from his craft center, and your clientele can grow together. It’s a much better investment for our savings then just opening more club would ever be.”
I felt dizzy, I guess because I really could see it. I could see the shop, and the studio, and the life I would leave there. I could see what Demir was offering, and it meant the world to me.
It was so close to everything I had ever wanted and everything I needed. I could have broken down right there; I was so overtaken that he had dreamed this for me. And even though Marco looked shocked, the song in his eyes made clear that he was seeing it, too.
But it wasn’t actually everything, I knew. And when I saw that vision of the future, it didn’t end with a little shop and a craft studio.
Ever since looking at the photos with Alyssa, I had known there was more.
“That sounds like a dream…” I said.
Demir grinned. “I’m so glad you think so. There are a lot of details to talk about, but I ran the numbers, and—”
“It is exactly the kind of business I want to build,” I continued. I turned to Marco and took his hand, and we shared a moment. “And I would be so lucky to build a business with you, Marco. But I have to tell you something first.”
The room stilled, and I could practically hear the tension thickening in the air. “What do you have to tell me?” Marco asked.
“Both of you,” I said. I rose to my feet without thinking about it and placed my shaky hands on the table to steady myself. “I am so glad you asked me to your boyfriend, and I want to build a future with you. I’ve never wanted something as much as I want this, and I know that you’re the kind of men I can do it with.”
I took a deep breath and steadied myself. “But when I see the future with you, I don’t just see the three of us. I see the three of us and our children.” I pushed my hands down on the table, fighting off the trembles that were inching along my muscles. I turned to Marco, then to Demir, both of their faces caught in surprise.
“I never saw myself as a parent before, and Zoe never wanted kids, either. But with the two of you, I’m able to see myself that way.” My breath caught in my throat; then I continued. “I’m able to see myself as a dad. And now that I’ve seen it, I can’t turn my back on who I’m meant to be. I need to know if that door is even open for you two.”
“Grayson,” Marco said, his voice shaky. “I don’t know what to say…”
Demir took Marco’s hand, then reached out for mine. My heart thumped, harder every second. “I wasn’t expecting this,” Demir said. “We’ve never…” He trailed off.
