I didn’t expect this.
I didn’t expect him.
And I didn’t expect to start wishing that this was real.
And mine.
Completely and unconditionally mine.
* * *
AFTER GREETINGS, hugs and pats on the back, Paul approaches me with a colourful drink that he tells me Seth has prepared. He even has a small umbrella.
“He’s trying hard tonight,” Paul alludes to the drink. We know that Seth is not much of a cocktail maker. “I've already had one, don’t worry,” he winks at me.
I can barely smile, still reeling from all this.
“I hope you’re not mad at me for telling Seth about your birthday.”
I deny slowly. At another time, I would have punched him in the face, but tonight I am so overcome with emotion that all I can do is hug him.
“Oh, okay. I wasn’t expecting that,” Paul says, my arms around his neck. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I know you’re human somewhere too, and that you have real feelings for people. For me, of course, but also for someone else.”
I break away from him and turn my attention to the kids who are setting the table with Ross. They had to add another small table next to the kitchen table.
“He’s doing a really good job with them,” Paul comments. “It’s not easy raising three kids who have recently lost their parents. Still, he makes it sound so…”
“Natural,” I say.
“Exactly. It must be a gift.”
I nod. My head feels light as if I have been drinking, and yet, I have not yet touched a sip of alcohol.
It’s Seth who has this effect on me. His closeness. His smiles and laughter. And his kindness. His chaos. And the way he welcomed me into his life without even blinking.
Seth turns towards us as if he can hear my thoughts about him. He smiles at me, in his slightly shy, slightly oh-so-sensual way, and I feel that I am one step away from flushing fiction, the past and everything that holds me in suspense, down the toilet to make room for him alone.
* * *
“ARE YOU OK IN THERE?” Seth’s voice tells me from outside.
I locked myself in the bathroom. I could not contain my emotions.
“I’ll be out in a minute.”
“I assure you that my stew is not that bad.”
I laugh and wipe my eyes, then get up and open the door.
“Why do I feel like I did something wrong?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… It’s not you, I swear. It’s just that I’m not ready.”
“For what?”
For you, for sure. And for what you make me feel. And for what I wish with all my being to feel and make you feel now.
“I haven’t celebrated my birthday in years.”
