Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“I heard through the family grapevine about Ruby,” Tristan said. “Is she okay?”
“Yeah, for the most part.” Grant had wanted Ruby with him most nights, and they were still asleep last time I checked on them. “Thanks for asking.”
“We’ve had dogs come in for grooming who are recovering from similar injuries, and they seem to bounce back pretty quickly.”
“That’s good to know.” I placed a cup under the coffee machine and pushed the button.
“Fair warning…I also heard all about your friend, Marcus,” he said cautiously. “That he spends lots of time with you and Grant and helped remodel your kitchen?”
“Yep.” I winced. “Gotta love that gossip.”
“Right?” He snickered. “Hope Marc is doing well.”
I took a moment to compose my thoughts. Tristan was someone I could talk to about this stuff. Why hadn’t I thought of that before?
“Did it take a while…for Chris’s family to get used to West being in your life?”
“Yeah, of course.” He sighed. “Ultimately, they realized I would never stop loving Chris, even though I’d made room in my heart for someone else. Someone I love very much and want to spend my life with. Someone I don’t ever want to be without.”
Fuck. His words resonated in a way that hit me square in the gut.
“Did that make you feel guilty—that you could love someone other than Chris?”
“Maybe at first, but I never subscribed to the idea of a person only having one soulmate or whatever. I think people connect on different levels, and when it turns into something as profound as love…it’s rare and precious and should be treasured,” he said, and I rubbed at the ache in my chest his words produced. “Because in the grand scheme of things, life is pretty fucking short.”
“I really like that,” I said as I doctored my coffee with sugar. “Thanks.”
“Is there something I’m missing here?”
“The truth is…I’ve been with guys back in the day, not that I really understood what being bisexual meant.” It felt good to get that off my chest. Actually, it felt great, like taking a load off. “But after I met Rebecca and knew I wanted to spend my life with her, I ignored that other side of myself.”
“I’ve heard similar stories too many times to count,” he said, and I marveled at that. “Does this mean there are feelings involved…for a certain someone?”
“I didn’t think I was ready to date anyone, honestly, but sometimes stuff sneaks up on you,” I said with a laugh. “Besides, Grant has been through so much, and I didn’t want to bring him any more stress or heartache. So…I’m still figuring shit out.”
“You’ve been through a lot too, so be gentle with yourself. You’ll know when you’re ready.”
After the call ended, I just stood there staring into space, thinking about everything that had happened with Marcus and how happy he made me—us, really. Grant had been so emotional after our visit to Worthy’s, and truth be told, so had I. It felt like his gift was a send-off of sorts, and I could understand why. He’d gotten mixed messages from me all along, and who would want to deal with that bullshit? I might’ve thought our intimate moments could remain separate from our friendship, but who was I kidding? It was all profoundly entangled.
Once Grant woke up, I made us breakfast, then tidied up the house. My in-laws were coming over for dinner, which was the least I could do after their help with Ruby. She’d stayed with them during the day all week while I was at work and Grant at school.
After grabbing a couple of last-minute items from the grocery store, I started making Rebecca’s Alfredo sauce, which I knew Howard enjoyed. Grant helped by setting the table and preparing the garlic bread, and soon enough, they were at the door. Ruby stood from her pillow to greet them, which was how I knew she was feeling much better.
Grant helped his grandfather with his walker, and after showing him the updated kitchen, we got him settled at the dining table, which would be way more comfortable for him than the kitchen island. Howard was a man of few words, and over the years had gotten more set in his ways, so I half expected him to complain about one thing or another, like our new wall color or fixtures, but he seemed pleased instead.
Grant grabbed the salt and pepper shakers he’d forgotten earlier while Donna helped me set the pasta and salad bowls in the center of the table. For some reason, it felt awkward, like there were unspoken things between us. But maybe it was my conversation with Tristan that was still weighing heavily on my mind.
Once we finally dug in, my stomach settled, and the conversation flowed more naturally as we talked about Howard’s treatments, my work schedule, and Grant’s classes.