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“Yeah, but those things have nothing to do with you. Right now, I want to complain that you kicked my ass at pickleball for three games. Let me feel sorry for myself, Marsh,” John jokes, tugging his shirt on.

“I’m so sorry you have to deal with this. I can’t imagine how hard losing is. I’ve never experienced it.”

He gives me the finger. “Fuck off. Why do I love you so much when you’re such an asshole to me?”

My spine stiffens at his words, discomfort landing square in my chest and spidering out through my whole body.I’m betraying you. You have always been there for me, and I’m betraying you.

“I’m just lucky, I guess.” I grab my shoes, already having gotten dressed.

John wraps an arm around me. “Nah, it’s me who’s lucky.”

I hug him back, guilt turning my blood into sludge in my veins. “I beg to differ.” The words nearly stick in my mouth. They’re true, but I feel like a fraud saying them. “Now, can we get out of here and have some lunch before I starve?” It’s not that I’m hungry as much as I’d just like to change the subject.

We grab our things and head out. The Mexican restaurant we both love is within walking distance, so we leave our cars and walk there.

They seat us and give us chips and salsa. “We need queso too, please,” John says to the waiter. It’s just for me. He doesn’t even eat it, but he knows I enjoy it. When the waiter leaves, John says, “Cal went shopping with JT a couple of weeks ago. Said he was very into his phone, messaging with someone and smiling in a way that told her it was definitely a guy. She questioned him on it, but he played coy. She thinks he’s met someone, though. I must say I hope that’s the case.”

A gust of cold sweeps through me, icing everything inside me. Jay didn’t tell me about that. I’m not surprised, and it’s not like he owes it to me, but it adds to the guilt I’m already feeling—likely why he didn’t say anything in the first place. But entwined with the shame I feel about the situation is the most ridiculous thought…I can make him happy. I make him happy, and Callie saw it without knowing it’s me.

And I want that, more than I thought I would, more than I probably should. I want to be that person for Jay. It’s not justabout the satisfaction we bring each other in the roles we’ve taken. I want to be more to him.

I force myself to use the right name when I say, “JT knows what’s best for him. He’ll find someone when the time is right.”

“That’s not something you can really time. It just happens. Technically the time shouldn’t have been right for Cal and me. And it’s not as if I want him to settle down with the first guy he meets. You know how I feel. I want him to have something, to do something.”

I frown. “He has a job he loves. He supports himself. He has a good friend in his roommate. JT is a strong man who knows what he wants and doesn’t bend to what others want or expect of him. He’s what we all hope for ourselves, and he’s got that at twenty-two. I don’t know what else you expect from him.”

It takes a moment of silence for me to realize what I said. John stares at me, forehead wrinkled, brows pulled together in clear confusion. I can’t say I blame him. I’ve never gone into that much detail when it comes to his and Jay’s relationship before. I’ve sure as shit never spoken to him like I know his son better than he does.

“All we want is to see him happy and fulfilled, living the kind of life he deserves.”

“Maybe he is,” I say gently, “and it’s only you and Callie who don’t see it.”

John visibly stiffens. The anger and confusion in his stare make me want to open my mouth and spill the truth.

“He’s my son, Marsh. I know you’re trying to be a good friend here, but you’ve taken it a step too far. Callie and I don’t love anything in this world more than we love JT.”

“I know…fuck. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

He sighs, and I see the change in him, his features softening; he’s already forgetting the argument and doesn’t want to fight.

“It’s fine, Marsh. I know you mean well. JT is like a nephew to you. But I know my son, and I know what’s best for him.”

I know him too.

He’s not like a nephew to me.

Christ, what the fuck is wrong with me? How can I be doing this with John’s son?

“Let me guess, chicken fajitas?” I say, taking the coward’s way out and changing the subject.

John chuckles. “Don’t even have to look at the menu, just like I know you’ll get the tacos.”

“God, we’re old and boring.”

“At least we’re old and boring together,” he counters. “Always.”

The lump in my throat grows, my whole body feeling heavier, but not as much as my mind. I don’t know how much longer I can do this, how much longer I can lie to him, but I certainly haven’t had my fill of my boy, and I don’t know that I ever will.

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