Page 78 of Just Bromantically Invested

“Thanks.” It’s a concession. One that will improve things for me, even if it does still feel likebodies are badmentality. The frustration itches at me, but it’s not Damien’s fault. He’s trying.

The world is fucking trying, and Seattle is way further ahead than most places.

But it doesn’t stop that isolated feeling from creeping over me.

Hopefully, Peach Acres will help with that. To find my community. Where I’m not weird, just me.

All like-minded people I can surround myself with every day because the more we talk about creating jobs for people to run the facility, the more I want one of those jobs to be mine.

I keep stamping that thought back down, though, because Penn and I have our business. Our business that we’re getting traction on. The whole reason why he’s not stepping up to do this with me and Damien.

I hate that I’m doubting him.

I hate that I don’t have complete certainty in him and us and all the things I want from my life in the future.

One small step at a time.

Talk to Penn about where his head is at.

Ignore that deep, empty well of belonging.

I can do this.

Chapter 28

Penn

Working with Richard isn’t the same. He’s friendly, chatty, completes all the work perfectly. But he hasn’t once messaged me to save him from nudist-related activities.

Which, admittedly, is a good thing. Even if it doesn’t feel that way.

I get home from working with Dryden, expecting Madden to be there waiting for me, and when I walk in and find my house empty, my heart sinks.

Then it clicks.

Monday.

He’s playing Monopoly with his brothers.

And I wasn’t invited.

I shower and cook dinner, reminding myself that I’m not allowed to be upset about that. I’m not. Instead of focusing on Madden and his friendships, I should be focusing on my own, but inviting Lana down for dinner is too much effort.

Things with Madden are effortless. They always have been.

The problem is staring me right in the face, and I’m doing my best to ignore it.

Instead, I eat dinner and watch TV. Absolutelynotresenting Madden for ditching me at work and then again tonight instead of turning the blame where it belongs. On me.

I could have easily gone with Madden to work on Peach Acres with Damien, but doing that feels like letting go of everything we’ve built. Sure, it’s not permanent, but there’s a voice in my head asking if maybe it is.

If we neglect our own business and focus on that place, what do we have to go back to when it’s done?

At least this way, it means I can keep things running, so when Madden’s done consulting, he can walk right back into our business, which will hopefully be operating better than ever. It makes me want to focus and push ahead so when that day comes, he’s proud.

I switch my TV off with an unsettling thought.

All night, all I’ve done is think of Madden. It was bad before we got together, but it’s gotten worse—to the point where I’m actually annoying myself. The silence echoes around me as, very slowly, so, so slowly, I let one big fucking question past my guard.

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