Page 45 of Home in Nevada

“I do like you. Jamie, this is for real...” I try to wipe the tears off his face, but he smacks my hand away again.

“No, you don’t. You never would have left me like that in Nevada. You left me and just moved on like it was nothing. Like I could just be discarded. You never texted me back. And I was stupid enough to let you back into my life and come all the way out here... God, what was I thinking?”

Jamie’s words leave me standing there, frozen, as he sobs, each tear another punch to my chest. I don’t know what to say to make this right. I don’t even know if I can.

“I was in denial,” I say quietly, my voice shaky. “About me. About us, about everything. It was so hard not to talk to you... to leave my best friend like that. Jamie, do you have any idea how fucking weird this is for me? To go through this? To want to kiss you, hug you, and be around you all the goddamn time while I hated myself for it?"

Jamie doesn’t say anything, his silence dragging the moment out painfully. I take a deep breath and keep going.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to be this confused about your sexuality?” I ask, my voice cracking under the weight of the words. “It wasn’t clear for me—you know I’ve never felt like this about another guy.”

I pause, swallowing hard as my throat tightens. “Even after I left, I couldn’t shake it. I’ve never done this before, Jamie. It’s always just been you. You’ve been confusing the living hell out of me for as long as I can remember.”

I take a shaky breath, my chest constricting as I struggle to find the right words. “I know I didn’t handle any of this gracefully, and I’m sorry. You don’t deserve to be the one who got hurt the most in all this, and I’m so, so sorry.”

Jamie finally mutters, “You really have no idea what you’re doing.”

“No, I don’t,” I admit, my voice softening, almost breaking. “I don’t, but I know what I’m feeling, Jamie. And what I’m feeling for you is real.”

He shakes his head, like he’s brushing off my words. His expression is flat, his voice devoid of emotion as he asks, “What exactly are you feeling, Jeff?”

I pause, my chest tightening with the weight of it all. It feels like I’m losing him all over again, like this entire evening is unraveling in front of me.

“What are you feeling?” Jamie presses, his tone sharp. “Do you need to fuck now and get it out of your system? Was that the goal of me coming here?”

“No.”

“So you can stop obsessing over this, right?” He motions between us, his sarcasm cutting like a knife.

“That wasn’t the plan at all.”

“Then what was the plan, Jeff?” Jamie’s voice rises, frustration bleeding through every word.

I hesitate, struggling to find the right words. “I just... wanted to see you again. That’s all. I missed you. I care about you. I wanted you next to me.”

Jamie scoffs, shaking his head. “And after this? I mean really, Jeff. We live in different states. We have jobs and lives. What then?”

I don’t have an answer. I know we’ll be separated again soon, but part of me was hoping...

“I guess I was hoping you’d be okay with that,” I mumble, feeling ridiculous the second the words leave my mouth.

“With what?” Jamie snaps. “Being apart, living our lives, and then once in a while visiting to get some action? That’s not what I want, Jeff. At all. That’s you getting what you want on the side. You never think about me or what I want! Have you ever thought about how I feel about any of this? Did it ever occur to you to ask me or have a conversation about it? Or were you just focused on getting in my pants and figuring the rest out later?”

I can’t even look at him. I’m quiet, the air between us heavy and tense.

I hate this. I hate fighting with him. I usually win, but right now? If my goal is to make Jamie feel worthless, I’m doing a damn good job of it—and I hate myself for it.

I don’t know what else to say to get through to him. Jamie’s right—what are we going to do after tonight? I don’t have a plan.

I’ve been running on emotions this whole time, acting on instinct, thinking Jamie wanted the same thing I did. But now I’m confused. Hadn’t he come on to me too?

I look at him, standing there, hugging himself with one arm and wiping tears away with the other. It kills me. I hate that I can’t make him stop crying, that he won’t let me touch him. He’s breaking down because of me. Again.

“I didn’t think about how you felt this deeply because I thought you wanted the same thing I did,” I finally say, my voice raw. “I didn’t think that far ahead, Jamie. I thought... we were just enjoying ourselves. Together. One day at a time.”

Jamie stays quiet, tears streaking down his face.

I’ve never felt so cornered, so exposed. First Tiffany, now Jamie. Maybe they’re both right. Maybe I’m exactly what they say I am.

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