I used to want kids myself. Thought of getting married and having a family. I always knew I was gay. I know it’s not that way for everyone, but it’s how it was for me. My family was accepting and supportive. I knew what I wanted my future to be for as longas I can remember. Losing them was hard, but stepping up to help Audrey with Noah was a good distraction for both of us. I hate that they never got to meet him, so I can only imagine how she feels.
My dreams have slowly dwindled as I settled into a life I didn’t plan. I don’t hate it, and sometimes I wonder if things will ever change. If I’ll succeed in meeting someone who will accept this crazy life that I have while also being okay with starting our own. As I get older, my desire for my own life gets stronger, but the picture fades more. It seems out of reach, and I guess that’s probably how Audrey feels sometimes—and why she won’t date.
Audrey was twenty-five when she had Noah. A good age to have a kid. It just so happens that the guy she had a kid with is a prick who wasn’t ready to settle down. He was a few years younger than Audrey, but he had no problem playing house before she was pregnant. Then suddenly his entire attitude changed. It’s the same cliche shit you hear all the time. We haven’t heard a peep from him since the day he left. Audrey reached out on social media to let him know the day Noah was born and when she checked a few days later to see if he’d seen it, she was blocked. It was a hectic time for us, since we’d just lost our parents too, but we figured it out together.
I am the closest thing Noah has to a father, so it’s kind of like having a kid of my own. I love him, and I love helping my sister with him. I don’t find either of them a burden. I’m happy in life. But for some reason, when I picture that firefighter’s face, I get this ache in my stomach like I’m missing out on something. Like maybe I want more than I’m allowing myself to have.
Chapter 6
JJ
I leave my shift more tired than usual. I hadn’t expected such a short shift to mess me up so badly, but it was non-stop all day. We had back-to-back alarms, multiple extrications, too many deaths, and a shit ton of wrecked cars and assists with the firefighters to get to trapped victims.
Long fucking day. AJ is going to hear about it—even if it isn’t entirely his fault.
I toss my duffel into the back seat and get into the driver’s side to head home. I call AJ on the way.
“Hello?” His voice comes through the truck speakers. I lower the volume because it’s too fucking loud.
“You’re a prick, you know.”
“What the fuck for?”
“Today was shit. What the hell did you need it off for, anyway?”
“Emergency.”
“What kind?”
“Had to help a friend.”
“What friend? Since when do you havefriends?”
He huffs out a laugh. “Wow, that hurts, man. Seriously,” he says, his voice lighter than it usually is. “I’ll have you know I have plenty of friends. Including you, asshole.”
I’ve known AJ a lot longer than most of the guys at the firehouse, which means I know more than most people do. Friendly and AJ don’t go together and it’s weird he’s avoiding telling me about thisfriendof his that he had to help,but I do the same to him, so I don’t have much room to talk.
“Yeah, I guess so,” I mutter.
“Text me when you want to get that drink. I have to go.”
“Yep, see ya.”
I end the call and drop the phone in my lap.
I sit in the car and stare at the house, not wanting to go in. I know what waits for me inside—a bunch of nothing. But what other choice do I have? Should I go to the bar?
I’m not in the mood for that. I’m too tired. Maybe if I head inside, take a shower, I’ll get right to bed and won’t have to worry about the fact I’m alone in the big ass house that my husband and I bought together for the sole purpose of starting a family.
He was going to run his businesses from here and be the sole provider for our child, while I still worked as a firefighter—something Franklin used to appreciate about me. He said it was admirable. More than what he could ever do as an entrepreneur. I love my job and I didn’t want to give it up, which he said was fine, but I wanted more than that, too.
Do I want more, still?I think I do, but I don’t know anymore. Franklin always makes my head a mess. Even when he’s notaround, his voice echoes in my mind, arguing every point I make. Talking me out of the things I want.
With a heavy sigh, I grab my bag from the back and head into the house, ignoring everything I pass. Not that there’s much to see here in the first place.
Franklin gave his input on what he wanted for furniture and decorations, but by the time it came to buying everything, he didn’t help pick out a damn thing. He’d checked out by then, meaning I had a whole house to fill with no urge to do it alone. My life with him was supposed to be very different, yet here I am… alone in this big house while Franklin lives the luxury life in California, dealing with his restaurant, going to fundraisers, doing interviews, and ignoring the fact he has a husband back in Chicago who thinks about him non-stop, wondering what he did wrong and how he can fix it. Franklin always complains that I’m too emotional, so I try to keep that part of me in check when it comes to him. But he’s my husband… if there ever is someone to be emotional with, shouldn’t it be him?
I take a long shower, wash off the day, change into sweats, and crawl into bed. I toss and turn for an hour before I pick up my phone and search Franklin’s name on the web browser. I do this from time to time. It’s the only way I know what’s going on in his life since he only answers my calls ten percent of the time. There’s an article that was just posted yesterday, so I click the link.
