Page 18 of All in December
He surprises me by flipping his palm to meet mine, gloveagainst glove, and gives my hand a squeeze. I wish the layers weren’t there so I could feel his skin against mine without anything between us. Even like this, though, I can feel the way he’s reaching for comfort. Just like last night.
“I’ve known for a long time that I’m attracted to men,” he says after a moment. “But I’ve never acted on it. Honestly, never even really said it out loud like this before to anyone. Growing up in Missouri, it didn’t feel safe to even think about it. Then I got married, also to my college girlfriend, and we had Sam. After the divorce, I didn’t know how to go back and figure myself out. I feel too old to screw around with a stranger, and I don’t want to date just to date. Plus, it’s hard to leave Sam when I don’t have to. We don’t have family nearby.”
I nod, feeling something shift in my chest at the longing and loneliness I hear in his voice. It’s clear that sharing that took a lot of courage, and I’m grateful he trusted me to tell me that already.
“You don’t have to have everything figured out,” I assure him. “You don’t owe anyone a label or an explanation—me included—and you’re definitely not too old. Besides, you never know who you’re going to meet and when.” I smile, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.
Caleb looks at me then, and for the first time since we started this conversation, there’s relief in his expression.
“Thanks. When you held me last night, I felt like I could breathe for the first time in a long time,” he murmurs.
I pause for a moment, knowing how hard it is to admit something like that out loud, especially when you’ve spent your whole life pretending you didn’t need it. Or worse, telling yourself you couldn’t have it because you grew up in aplace where admitting your desires made you a target, so conforming was survival.
“I felt that too,” I agree. “I wished we could’ve stayed like that for even longer.”
“I’m really glad we met,” he says with so many emotions in his eyes, and my heart damn near explodes in my chest.
“Me too, and I’d definitely like to see you again after this weekend,” I finally admit, laying it out there.
He grins at me, and his eyes light up. “I’d really like that.”
We’re almost to the drop zone now, so I give his hand one final squeeze and pull away as the chairlift moves closer, lifting the bar as we get ready to stand.
This run is quieter for Caleb and me, not the boys, though, who are still having a great time together. All I can focus on is what Caleb just shared with me. He sounded like he was scared to say it out loud, which I understand.
During the years Tess and I were married, I hardly ever brought up my sexuality, mainly because it was assumed for me. She knew I was bi, and it never bothered her, or we never would’ve gotten married in the first place. But once you’re married, or in any long-term relationship, people make their assumptions.
After we divorced, I started correcting people when they assumed I was straight. Even though everyone who truly mattered in my life already knew, there are so many people I’m around daily who didn’t. And I’m fully aware of just how much strength it takes to step outside the version of yourself that’s always felt safest to exist in.
I’m proud of him for sharing what he did today, and I still want more.
I want to know what his days look like when no one’swatching. I want to know how he takes his coffee, what kind of music he listens to when he’s alone in the car, and what he does for work. I want to hear the stories behind the photos on his fridge. I want to know if he hums while he’s doing the dishes and his favorite takeout restaurant. I want to know what makes him laugh so hard that he has to cover his face, or if he snorts.
I want to know the version of him that only comes out when he’s comfortable, when he’s safe.
This doesn’t feel like a crush or a moment or a fling. It feels like a beginning.
And I don’t want to miss any part of it.
CHAPTER 9
Caleb
By the time we reach the base of the mountain at the end of the day, I’m wiped out. Sam and Benji could’ve probably kept going until the lifts stopped turning, but I’ve had more than enough today in the best way.
I glance over at Nash as he unclips his skis. His cheeks are red from the wind, his brown hair is messy and wavy from his helmet, and when he catches me looking, he smiles.
“Ready?” he asks.
I nod even though I’m not. I don’t want this to end. No part of me wants to get in the car, drive down the mountain, and go back to a life where none of this exists. My life back home suddenly feels a lot emptier by comparison.
We spent today laughing and taking advantage of the time we had on the lifts to get to know each other better. Nash told me more about his daughter Emma and how she’s only six, but she can keep up with Benji, which is wildly impressive. He shared that he’s from California but moved to Denver for college and never left. I told him about my work designinghomes, and he asked thoughtful questions like he actually cared. He explained what he does in tech, and while some of it went over my head, I liked hearing him talk and watching his face light up when he mentioned his kids or a project he was proud of.
And now, as I carry my skis to the car, I already feel it slipping through my fingers, despite Nash saying he wanted to continue exploring this.
It’s impossible to ignore the voice in my head that fears once we go back to our real lives in Denver, the little bubble we’ve been in will burst. He’ll decide that a thirty-four-year-old divorced single dad with full custody, who’s probably bi, or maybe gay, but has never even been with a man, isn’t worth it. That feels like a lot of baggage to willingly agree to, but I’m trying to hold onto hope because Nash has done nothing but surprise me so far.
When we reach our cars, which are parked side by side, all four of us begin going through the motions of peeling off layers, tossing jackets, boots, snow pants, and the rest of our gear into the trunks. But my hands are slower than usual. For the first time in my life, I wish skiing came with more layers and more gear. More things to put away. Just… more time.
