I stretch my neck and follow him through his suite over to a brown leather couch. The cream walls are much nicer than the green ones in my room.
“Wanna wait here, while I change?” His gaze sizes me up.
“Yes.” I fight my body’s urge to follow him into the bedroom.
There are enough land mines between us that could go off at any moment and make him relapse. I don’t need to throw a grenade into the mix by jumping straight back into bed with him.
Alexander leaves the door open, pulling my attention his way.
Nope. We’re not going there.
I pry my gaze away, turning my attention to CNN playing on the widescreen TV. The latest presidential scandal plays out on-screen.
“You want a water?” He shakes a bottle at me, throwing it when I nod before joining me on the couch. His oversized white T-shirt and grey sweat shorts look a lot more comfortable than the black jeans and charcoal polo shirt I’ve chosen to wear.
I reach for the remote, mute the TV, and turn to him.
“How have you been since you posted the video?”
The conversations about us, about the contents of his letter, those can wait. This low-hanging fruit is a much easier place to start from and will let me settle my nerves.
“Mixed.”
He lets out a heavy sigh as he pulls his legs up onto the couch.
If it helps him to talk through whatever’s plaguing him, I’ll play along.
“How so?” I turn my body round to face him and pull my legs up too.
“Do you think I made a mistake? Mentioning my father in the video?”
I push down my true thoughts—that Alexander always seems to throw someone under the bus—and remain diplomatic.
“I think you had to do what was right for you.” My deflection isn’t an outright acknowledgment that what he did was right, but it’s enough to reassure him.
“I don’t know.” Alexander picks at his cuticles.
“I’m sure your father just needs some time, that’s all.”
I lean across and place a hand on his knee briefly.
“Like the time you needed? You still need?” Tears shimmer in his eyes and his lower lip quivers. The softness of his words hits a different chord, one I’m willing to play along with.
“We all process things differently.” I grab the bottle, open it, and swallow down some water. “I’m still processing everything myself. Honoring your truth, while also making space for mine. But I’ve realized I can do that here with you, rather than separate from you.”
I return my hand to his knee and keep it there this time.
Our eyes meet and mine say what my mouth doesn’t need to.
It will be okay. We’ll be okay.
You and your dad will be okay.
“But what if he doesn’t forgive me?”
“Families argue. Families need space sometimes. You can’t tell me there hasn’t been a time when you’ve gone for a while without talking to them. You just need to be a little more patient.”
“I think you know me well enough by now to know I’m not patient.” A smirk appears across his face. He intentionally nudges my leg while lowering his slightly. My gaze is drawn to them, noticing a lack of underwear underneath his shorts. His perfectly cut penis stares back at me.
