Page 24 of Meet Me in the Blue

“I guess sometimes it’s hard to let go… when you’ve loved someone your whole life… Even when it hurts you over and over again.”

I wanted to ask him how he knew that. If he loved me like I loved him. If he was hurting too. But I let go of his hand, my confusion and fear winning in the end. I called out to Belle, and she ran back toward the house.

“Thank you,” he said, and I curled my hand into a fist, trying to hold on to the feel of his touch.

“For what?” Maribelle pushed against my leg, panting as she nipped at the hem of my sweats.

“For trusting me with everything. As hard as it was to come out when I did, I was never confused. I knew I liked men. But it’s not always that easy, and I know I’m on your shit list, but I’m here if you need to talk, or if you have questions. Or—”

“Thanks,” I said, and without thinking about it too much I pulled him into a hug.

Wrapping him in my arms, he melted into me. My fingers curled into the cotton of his hoodie as he tucked his nose against my neck. He rested his palms along my spine, and I perched my chin on his shoulder. It was like he’d never left, and there were a million-and-one stars to count, and the tip of his nose was cold. The scruff on his chin was new, but I liked it. We couldn’t stay like this, or I’d have to tell him, have to be ready to forgive and forget, and I had too many small cuts that were barely healing. I pulled back and a tear fell down his face. I wiped it away with my thumb and he shivered.

“Rook…” He chuffed out a wet laugh. But there was no humor in it. “Shit.” He rested his forehead to my shoulder, holding on to the sleeves of my t-shirt. “My dad…”

Everything could wait.

The years he’d so carelessly thrown away.

My confusion.

My best friend. The man I loved so much it hurt. Was breaking.

“I know… Luka. God, I know.”

LUKA

SLEEP HAD ELUDED MElast night as I tossed and turned, thinking too much about my dad and the time I’d lost and Rook and his sexuality. As much as Rook hadn’t changed, he was different too. He’d always been reserved with an underlying confidence that could light up an entire room. And last night I saw glimmers of it in the way he held himself and in the way he joked around with his friends, but his smile was quieter somehow. Like he held a million secrets, and he was afraid to smile too wide or they’d come spilling out. I’d do anything to know him, to know what he was too afraid to say. I exhaled, leaning back in my seat, and stared at the front door toThe Herald.I needed to focus. I’d gotten a call earlier this morning from the editor-in-chief, asking me to come in for a meeting around ten. I was unsure about a lot of things. How much time I had left with my dad? If I would ever become the man he thought I could be? If Rook would ever fully forgive me? But this job. This was the one thing I was sure of. If I could get this, carve a path for myself here, in this town, maybe staying could be permanent. I checked my reflection in the rearview mirror one last time, zeroing in on the thin skin under my eyes. Dark and hollow.

Perfect.

I pulled my keys from the ignition with more force than necessary and grabbed my portfolio from the passenger side seat. I had to practically manhandle the door to the ancient, or as my dad called it, vintage Volkswagen Bug, to get it open. The heavy thing swung open with a loud creak, drawing a few stares from passing foot traffic. With a sheepish wave, my dignity blew away on the crisp breeze. But I had to admit, I loved that my father had held on to this rust bucket as long as he had. He’d purchased the car when he was in college, and I inherited it when I turned sixteen. I remembered hating it at first, but after I’d gotten my first blowjob in the back seat from some closet case I’d met at one of Rook’s hockey games, I’d learned to love the freedom it afforded me. When I’d decided to move to California, I’d left it here and thought for sure he’d sell it. I ran my fingertips along the cold metal hood as I stepped onto the sidewalk. I was happy he didn’t. It was a trivial thing, but it was a piece of us, and something tangible I might be able to hold on to long after…

“Luka?”

I raised my head and smiled at the pudgy-looking man standing on the front steps of the building I’d been staring at earlier.

“I thought that was you,” he said, the thick salt-and-pepper mustache above his lip came alive as he spoke and waved for me to come inside. “I saw you standing out here from my window and figured I’d rescue you from your anxiety.”

“Mr. Burgess?” I asked, his voice familiar from the conversation we’d had on the phone this morning.

When I’d interviewed the other day, it was with his assistant.

“The one and only. Come in, come in, I’m freezing my balls off.”

I blurted out a laugh and headed up the stairs. I guess I didn’t have to worry about being overly professional.

He clapped his hands together and I followed him through the small lobby.

“Weather is a lot different up here, eh? Not like California?” he asked as he hit the call button for the elevator.

“Very different,” I said and gave him a polite smile as we both stepped inside.

The building was only two stories, but the ride up took forever. I could feel him staring at me.

“I’m sorry to hear about your dad, we all thought… well, we all thought he’d beat it.”

That word again. I swallowed it down and nodded. This was how people rectified things. How they thought they could contribute. Pleasant words and condolences. I couldn’t hate them for it, even if it made the anger in me swell. My dad deserved so much more thanI’m sorry.

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