“I’m gonna stop you right there, brother,” Gemma cuts in. “He tried tokissyou?”
“Yes. It’s not a big deal, and I stopped him before he could.”
“But you still think he’s straight?”
Raking my fingers through my hair, I let out a sigh. “I don’t know, Gemma.”No, but I’m not ready to admit that, is what I don’t say.“I’m beginning to regret calling you.”
“Oh, hush. You love me.” She chuckles. “But lucky you, I have to cut this call short because I just got to my appointment.”
“Is everything okay?” I ask, my hands pausing on the washcloth I was about to fold.
“Yes, calm down,” she replies soothingly. “It’s just my monthly checkup.”
“Alright, I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”
“Love you, Xan.”
We hang up, and I finish folding the laundry. As I’m putting away the towels in the hall closet, my aunt comes out of her room. Her hair’s wet and hanging down her back like she just got out of the shower.
“Hey, how’re you feeling?” I ask, giving her a smile.
“I’m fine,” she grunts. “Quit asking me that, boy.” She pads down the hall, taking a right, probably going into the kitchen.
Is this how Gemma felt when she asked how I was and I bit her head off?
“I’m getting a little hungry,” I holler after her. “Thinking of making lunch. Want some?”
No response.
Sure, let’s ignore me.
I head back into my room and grab the now empty clothes basket, bringing it back into the laundry room, and setting it on top of the dryer. Once I’m done, I meander into the kitchen,where—yup—she’s brewing a pot of coffee and munching on one of the muffins Cope brought over this morning.
For the most part, I’ve kept to myself over the last two weeks. Despite knowing the breakup was for the best, and not regretting it, it’s still a lot to process. We were together for several years, and it still feels like a loss I needed to grieve. I guess it’s not so much Henry that I’m grieving, but the future I subconsciously grew to expect—even if foolishly. As I inch closer to thirty, I can’t help but wonder what the fuck the future holds for me. Am I going to get married? Have kids? Or am I going to be single forever, hopping from one relationship to the next with no stability?
The latter is depressing.
I don’t even know if marriage and kids are something that I necessarily want, but as time goes on, it’s the stability I crave, and the love of somebody special, even if we don’t technically get married. Just knowing I have a future with somebody would be nice.
Cope’s respected my withdrawn behavior, but he’s still been coming over in the mornings to help with chores since my aunt was in the hospital, and then on bedrest. Having him here is a relief when it comes to everything that needs to be done, and he’s always bringing some type of breakfast treat with him. My aunt’s eating that shit up—literally and figuratively.
“Want a cup?” she asks as I pull open the fridge, looking inside at what my options are.
“Nah, I’m good. Thank you, though.”
She hums as she finishes fixing her own. “I want to make dinner tonight,” she announces.
“Oh, yeah? Like what?”
“My lasagna.”
My ears perk up at that. I don’t know what it is, but Aunt Colette makes the best lasagna I’ve ever tasted. It’s my favoritething she makes. “Well, you won’t hear me telling you no,” I mutter, breathing out a laugh.
“Invite your friend,” she blurts out, holding up the rest of her muffin, a mischievous look on her face. She keeps referring to Cope as“my friend,”as if she hasn’t known him longer than I have.
My stomach lurches into my throat at that suggestion. “Ah, I don’t know. He’s probably bu?—”
“Ask him,” she replies, more firmly this time. “You never know until you ask. He’s a nice boy, and it would be lovely to have more than just us at dinner tonight. Besides, he made us that delicious stew. We should return the favor.”
