Page 93 of Love in Mission City
He laughed. “Yeah. That.”
“Didn’t you graduate at the top of your class? I seem to recall Marta telling me that when I called to tell her about my son’s birth.” My fingers had hovered over Gil’s name but, in the end, I hadn’t called. I trusted word would get to him. And it had—he’d sent over a wooden train set. Hand-carved. I cleared my throat. “Thanks for the train set. And the figurine.” A fairy he’d sent when my daughter was born.
“Catherine sent thank-you cards.”
I winced. I hadn’t known. Wasn’t surprised…but hadn’t known.
“Do you need to be heading home?”
His words caught me off guard. I thought we were sharing a moment and now he wanted to leave? “You have somewhere to be?”
“No.” He met my gaze. “I’m starving and think I need more than tea. We can go to a restaurant—Fifties, White Spot, Stavros’s…”
“Or we could go back to your place?”
With his coloring, I couldn’t tell if he was blushing. He ducked his head in that way he used to when he was embarrassed or shy. I used to know how to elicit those heated cheeks. I’d been quite cheeky back in the day.
I’d also been a prick. I drew in a breath. “Look, I owe you an apology.”
He tilted his head.
“I pushed at a time when you didn’t need pushing. I made unreasonable demands. You had every right not to want the same things I did—”
“But I did want them.”
His words halted me. I blinked.
“I wanted to come out, Cullen. Never doubt that. But I thought my family wouldn’t understand.” He shifted. But still held my hand. “I was wrong. When my grandmother was on her deathbed, she sat me down and talked to me about regrets. One of hers was that she’d never told me it was okay I was gay.
“To say I was stunned would be an understatement.” He scratched his cheek. “Apparently, the entire family suspected, but hadn’t wanted to say anything—in case they were wrong.” He chuckled. “Then she caught me checking out one nurse in the palliative-care center. A guy. Super-hot, I must say.”
“And she knew.”
“And she knew. Or had her suspicions confirmed. I admitted as much to her. Then she insisted I come out to everyone before she died. We’re talking like a day or two at the most—if that. But how could I deny the woman I’d adored my entire life? I couldn’t. I didn’t.” He blinked yet again. “Very anticlimactic. They all basically nodded, hugged me, and said they’d always suspected.”
That surprised me. Gil always portrayed his family as ignorant. Completely unaware. “And you came out.”
“In spectacular fashion. A day later, she passed. As the hot nurse consoled me—he’d heard everything—he showed me his wedding ring. He also gave me his phone number and said he had a friend…when I was ready.”
“Oh my God, he didn’t.”
Gil grinned. “Yeah, he did. His friend, Jase, was a very nice guy, but…we weren’t compatible.”
“Oh.” I didn’t have a scintilla of doubt about what he was referring to.
We’d always been completely compatible. “Your place?”
He nodded. “We can do pizza. Like old times.”
Chapter Three
Gil
I’d never brought a romantic interest home with me.
Not that there’d been many guys. Certainly no relationships. Just a few hookups. One time I’d gone to a guy’s place. Twice I’d gone to hotels with other guys. A few terrible first dates. Thereweregay men in Mission City. I often spotted gay couples holding hands. Pushing baby strollers. Ushering children in and out of restaurants. Doing ordinary things.
Things I longed to do with a partner.
