His hand stills on the glass, his brow pulling low. He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times before finally saying, “I’m not sure if I want to get into all that right now. I will explain it to you, but… not today. Not at Christmas.” His brow remains furrowed as he meets my gaze. “Is that okay?”
I nod, examining his face. Clearly I’ve hit a nerve here, and I’m not sure I want to press any further. I turn back to the sink, dumping some cutlery into the water. It wasn’t my place to ask, really. I’m about to apologize when he speaks again.
“Anyway, if you want a ride to the cabin, I’m happy to take you. It’s pretty remote—no cell service, no wifi. But it’s a good place to just get away.”
I smile at the thought. “Yeah, okay. That would be great. Thanks.”
Henry has fallen asleep on the sofa and Michael goes into the living room. He flicks the movie off and pulls a blanket up over him, kissing him on the head. It’s such a tiny thing, but it’s so tender it immediately endears him to me. He picks up the dishtowel again as I finish off the dishes and drain the sink.
“You’re a good dad,” I say.
Michael smiles modestly. “Thanks. I try, but I feel like I’m constantly screwing up.”
I root around in a drawer looking for cling film to cover some of the leftovers.
“You kind of helped me to see that I’ve not been the best dad, though.”
I pause, turning to him. “I have?”
“Yeah. You kept pointing out all these things I wasn’t doing, and I started to think—”
“Wait.” I straighten up, confused. “What are you talking about?”
He laughs. “I don’t think you meant to, but you made me see what I’d been forgetting. Like, I never gave Henry pizza, or took him trick-or-treating. And the ice-skating… Anyway, I realized that I’d been kind of uptight, too worried about doing the right things, that I forgot the fun things are important too.”
“Oh,” I murmur. “Shit, I’m sorry. I never meant to—”
“I know.” He puts a hand on my arm. “But I’m glad. I’d been so stressed, so, I don’t know… pissed off at the world. And then I met you, and you reminded me that it’s good to laugh and to have fun.”
I think back to the grumpy guy I met in Starbucks, the man who was unpleasant to me in the hallway on Halloween. He was damn uptight when I met him.
But he’s not that guy at all anymore. Now, he’s playful and cheeky and fun. If I think of our day out in the city, or the visit to Strand, or even just this evening, he’s a far cry from the guy I met. Is that really because of me? Happiness flows through me, warm and bright, at the thought. And—God, I know I shouldn’t—I place my hand over his and squeeze, holding his gaze.
We stand there for a long moment in his kitchen, staring at each other, neither of us wanting to move. My blood is pumping hard, fast, and I try to ignore it, but when Michael draws his hand away, the intensity of my disappointment shocks me. It doesn’t matter what I tell myself. My body knows the truth.
He finds the cling film and I wrap up some turkey in silence, mentally berating myself. It’s my fault I’m in this position—I’m the one who can’t sort their shit out here. And with every passing second, I feel the weight of my indecision pressing in on me, crowding out the kitchen, suffocating the air from my lungs.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt.
“For what?”
“For this whole thing.” I gesture vaguely and he looks puzzled. “For my writing, for us, for not…” I scan his face for a sign of understanding, when it occurs to me that maybe he’s not suffering in the same way that I am. This whole evening I’ve been torturing myself about it, but maybe he’s already moved on and all of this awkwardness is in my head.
“Alex, it’s okay.” He softens, taking a step closer. “You don’t have to apologize.”
“But am I imagining that things are weird? They feel weird.”
“Well, yeah. A little.”
I look up at him. “Why?”
“Because we like each other,” he says simply.
I bite my lip. “Do you… you know, do you still…”
“Of course. I can’t switch my feelings off. I’m just not acting on them.”
I let out a tormented groan. “What am I doing?” I mutter, more to myself than him. I rub my forehead in agitation and he reaches for my hand.
“Hey, it’s okay. We talked about waiting until you find out what’s happening with this job, and that’s the right thing to do.” He takes my other hand, and now he’s holding them both, giving me a gentle smile. My whole body is humming at his touch, and I gaze up at him, swallowing hard.
“You think so?”
He nods. “Do you remember our conversation in Beanie? You told me you spent your twenties not going after what you want, and now you are. I admire that.”
“And what if I get it?”
“Well…” A line forms along his brow. “Then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. But I want to support you, Alex, and if that means… I don’t know, waiting until we can figure out how to make this work, then so be it.” His eyes fix on mine, serious and fiery. “Because when we finally do this, we are going to do it right.”
Oh God.
My heart rate skyrockets at the heat in his gaze, the promise in his words. I’m so breathless I can’t even bring myself to respond.
He stares at me for another second, then drops my hands with a chuckle. “Until then we will just be weird
