Page 114 of The Photograph

“She called and asked me.” I shake my head. “Let’s come back to that. Tell me what happened with this girl.”

“My parents invited this family around, the Silvermans, for dinner. My dad works with Mr. Silverman. It turned out Mom and Dad had already had a conversation with them, and they were setting me up with their daughter Amalia. They sat us together. They wanted to sweep everything I said about who I was under the carpet. Amalia has a place at Princeton to study law, and they were going to persuade her to give it up if I felt that she was a good fit for me … All that effort and hard work to get in. It’s insane. I told Mom it was like being in the 1950s.”

His face contorts into a thundercloud, and it makes me choke on a laugh. “When I told Mom I was gay and that was never going to change, she told me not be so silly. But I called Amalia and came out to her, too.” He hooks a finger through mine.

“I’ve had a tough couple of days, too,” I say. I want to get this all out on the table.

“I know I …”

He stops when I hold up a hand.

“To be so quickly dropped … One minute we were two happy dudes living together and the next minute I was forgotten. It’s been hard to believe you feel anything for me. You were there and then suddenly you were gone.”

“Des. Des.No.” A long groan escapes him. “OhGod, going back home was such a mistake. What was I thinking?” His gaze lands on the counter where people are queuing to buy salads. “Maybe I did take it all for granted. I moved in and everything felt perfect. You supported me so well and we dropped into this cool rhythm of life, you know? I loved it.”

Idoknow, I felt the exact same thing. When I open my mouth, he barrels on.

“You always appear so robust to me, so experienced at all this.” He waves a hand. “I assumed you’d be fine giving me the time and space to sort things out with my parents. God, that sounds so naïve when I say it out loud. I didn’t think for one minute …”

My eyes roam the soft curls of his hair, the shadow on his jaw, the dark circles under his eyes.

“… that I was risking anything.”

Flexing his shoulders, he sits up straighter. “But I can see how it looked from your point of view, and I didn’t say the best things to you.” His mouth turns down. “I’m so sorry, Des.”

His eyes flick between mine and the hurt and anger starts to slip away, being replaced by … what? …overwhelming fondness. But I need to explain things to him, too:

“I’vealwaysbeen on slippery ground with guys. Trust has never come easily in my relationships, but with you it was different. I trusted you, so quickly. Yet these past few days have shown me how new we are, and that I haven’t felt solid in this relationship at all,” I say.

He’s staring at me.

“How is that possible? You’re so confident, Des. You should feel solid. You’re amazing. How can you …? I would be the luckiest guy in the world to have you as my partner. Being with you is perfect.”

My whole body lights on fire as my throat tightens. I turn back to the window, blinking rapidly. He squeezes my fingers.

“Des?”

I nod, looking down at the table.I am not going to cry.

“I’d do anything for you, Des.”

Fuck, I wasn’t expecting this today, after everything.

“I love you,” he says.

I can’t stop it now: The tears leak out of my eyes and Alex brings a warm hand up to swipe across my cheek as I give him a wobbly smile. My heart is back to thumping like it’s going to explode out of my chest. I’ve never said those words to another guy, and somehow I can’t bring them up and out of my mouth now. I nod and nod and nod as my throat gets tighter and tighter and more and more tears seep out.

Alex’s eyes are swimming, too. “You don’t have to say it back,” he whispers, shifting forward in his seat to clasp both my hands in his. “It’s crazy and too soon and everything, but just let me …”

“I love you too,” I whisper.

His face softens as his lips part, and I curl my fingers around his as he stretches across the table and presses his mouth to mine.

“I can’t believe you said that to me,” he says, drawing back. “I feel …” He stares down at our joined hands. “… like I might explode or something. You’ve always seemed like this incredible person to me, with this amazing, glamorous life and I’m some guy sitting in a cube writing documents. Well, at least I was until this morning.”

I cry-laugh at this.

“You’re an idiot, Mr. Sachs. You’re not that at all.”

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