Page 102 of Grave Misgivings
Tomorrow, he’s going to be forty.
Originally, Katy and I had planned to take him out for dinner, then follow up at his parent’s house for cake and ice cream, butafter dinner the other night, and the postponed show... Katy and I haven’t really discussed alternate plans.
And I’m not entirely sure she isn’t pissed at me right now because I called her last night crying that I’d fucked up.
I do have to give her props for not telling me “I told you so,” but something tells me if she finds out whatreallyhappened last night...
Yeah, I might disappear in the desert somewhere and become an urban legend.
“You guys are coming to the show tomorrow, right? I mean, your tickets should be honored since it wasn’t a full cancellation, but if they give you shit, Kevin?—”
“Yeah, of course,” I reply, watching him sling his guitar case over his shoulder.
“I’ll drive you,” I offer as he shakes his head.
“No need, Kevin sent an Uber.”
Who the fuck is Kevin?
Anxiety and panic start to cycle again, and Geo must notice. He steps up to me, placing his hand on my stomach.
“Kevin’s my manager,” he says softly. “He’s just doing his job.”
“Right,” I say.
His fingers slide over my hip, drawing lazy circles. “What?”
“I just hate to watch you leave, that’s all,” I utter, feeling more naked than I did when I woke up with Geo’s dried spend all over me.
Geo settles his free hand around my neck, pulling me lightly against him. My forehead rests against his.
“I don’twantto leave,” he says, his voice barely a whisper.
“So don’t leave,” I implore his gaze with my own.
Pick me.
Choose me...
My heart beats so loud I think he can surely hear it.
Geo purses his lips, his fingers sliding into my hair. “It’s not that simple, Zeb. But for the record, I wish it was,” he says, as I hear a car pull up.
“See you later?” he says, stopping in front of my door.
I take a moment, committing him to memory, like this.
Guitar slung over his shoulder, dark hair a little mussed, thick glasses framing his face, dressed in tight black jeans, a faded white shirt, and a leather jacket. A glimmer of youth marred with the shimmer of the present.
I look at half my heart, standing there in the living room, and I want to fall apart. But I can’t.
I have to be stronger now than I was then.
“Yeah, of course.” I force a smile, if only for him.
Because as he walks out of my house, jumping into a sleek, fancy car, I know that my time with him is limited.
Because perfect things don’t lastforever.
