16. BRUNO

The day he was coming back, a palpable sense of anticipation hung in the air. With Evan safely delivered to school, I returned to the quiet of our apartment, my mind abuzz with Danny's return.

Settling into the familiar space, I turned my attention to the task at hand – an article commissioned by a new hipster lifestyle website, its deadline pretty tight. I got the espresso maker working and munched on a croissant I had bought on the way back from the school run. With a steaming mug of coffee in hand, I settled at my work desk, the gentle hum of the city outside providing a backdrop to my writing.

But as I delved into the intricacies of my work, a tug of restlessness pulled at my consciousness, the idea of the return of his physical presence to this space. It drew me toward the small bedroom – what was now Danny's room. Evan hadn't slept in it since he had left.

I crossed the threshold, my footsteps light, secretive. The bed, adorned with crumpled sheets and pillows, beckoned to me. I needed to replace them.

As I lifted the linens from the bed and held them in front of me, I felt the strong desire to smell the fabric, to pick up his scent. The sheets, infused with his sweet masculine odor, radiated our connection.

Slowly, I began to rub the sheets on my body so that I might smell of him, too. I was starting to feel aroused, but then I stopped myself. I couldn't let myself be drawn in too much; he might come back and say that he just wanted to be friends. You have to protect yourself sometimes. I didn't want to fall in love and… I stopped myself. Even talking that way was crazy.

I folded the dirty linens with care and put new sheets on the bed. When they were in place, clean and flat, I wondered what it would be like to be lying in that bed with him on top of me, my body under his, his cock inside me.

I widened my eyes. Not for the first time: get it together, Bruno!

The day wore on, and I returned to my work. The article started to come together, and I thought I might be able to file it that day. As the afternoon came on, I began to think about how I would need to go and pick up Evan later and whether there was anything I needed to do before that.

Suddenly, the sound of my phone ringing pierced the air. I had left it on the kitchen counter, and I got up from my desk to retrieve it. UNKNOWN NUMBER was flashing on the screen. Sometimes, I ignored those, but you never know, it could be someone from Evan's school, so I picked up.

"Hello?" I answered.

I heard a woman's voice, confident, friendly, on the other end of the phone.

"Cheryl Chang, from CC Literary Agency," she said. She was the agent who had expressed an interest in me before. "I've just finished reading A Place to Stay. Thank you for sending it to me."

"Oh, hi," I said. "I only sent it to you yesterday. You've read it already?"

"Yes," she said. "I read it last night and finished it this morning. When I read a book this good, I don't hang about. It's so much better than before. I saw the promise before, but it's extraordinary. You're very gifted."

"Wow, thank you."

"No, thank you."

I didn't understand.

"For what?"

"For having the faith to come back to me."

I didn't have the heart to tell her I had no other agents interested.

"So…?" I asked cautiously.

She laughed warmly on the phone.

"Bruno, I would love to represent you for this novel."

Wow, I went.

"To be my agent? You want to represent me?" I stammered, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Yes, indeed," Cheryl affirmed. "I believe your novel has tremendous potential."

"Really?"

She gave a long, happy sigh.

"Bruno, I have a great nose for what is going to work, what editors are going to love, and let me tell you, with the queer fiction market being what it is right now, they are going to love you, and they are going to love A Place to Stay."

I felt amazed, astonished. And then I felt almost faint that after all this time, perhaps suddenly something might happen for me. An agent was telling me that I was good enough and that editors would like me and my work. She was also calling my novel queer fiction. So what would that make me in the eyes of the world?

I listened as Cheryl outlined her vision for my novel, her words all possibility and promise of a future. I felt awestruck as Cheryl painted a picture of that future where my words would find their way into the hands of readers around the world. The weight of her words settled upon me, filling me with a heady mix of excitement and apprehension.

"I want to send the book out to publishers immediately," she declared, her confidence unwavering. "Your writing has a brilliance that's impossible to ignore."

Even as these were dream words for an unknown writer to hear, a hard fact was hitting me.

"But I haven't finished the ending," I said. "The new lover comes, but I don't completely know the ending yet."

Cheryl's response was swift and reassuring.

"That doesn't matter," she insisted. "The editor will work with you on that. It's the concept and the talent you have. The level of writing is brilliant." She paused. "Do you want to have a novel bought by a big publisher, Bruno?" she asked.

"Yes, of course."

"Do you want a big campaign for your novel?"

"Yes."

"Do you want a lot of money for an advance?"

Oh, God, yes, I didn't shout at the top of my lungs.

"Of course."

"Good," she said. "Then the time is now. In publishing, the time is now or never."

I laughed, amazed.

"Then let's do now."

I felt a surge of excitement course through me. Cheryl asked me if I could write a pitch about the book and myself by tomorrow.

"I have company staying tonight," I interjected, thinking of Danny and his imminent return.

"They won't mind," Cheryl replied as if it was a minor detail, which I supposed it was.

"Okay…"

"And then we can meet up in the next week or so, if you can come and meet me for a coffee, get to know each other personally. You're in New York, right?"

"Yes."

"Good, listen, I am in for the long haul with our relationship, Bruno, if you are. Let's get to know each other and work together for a long time."

I was thrilled that she said that.

"Yes, yes, of course. That's wonderful."

As we ended the call, I stared into space for a long time. Was it possible my dream was about to come true? Could I actually see my novel published, my words in print? It felt surreal, like a dream blurring into reality, into potential fact.

A surge of excitement then washed over me. Would I be a real novelist, a literary success? The thought sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine.

I realized the debt of gratitude I owed to Danny. It was he who had encouraged me to pursue my dreams, who had pushed me to email my novel to Cheryl again, and who believed in me when I doubted myself. I couldn't wait to tell him what had happened since the last we spoke.

Reaching for my phone, I tapped on his name from my recent messages.

"Hey Danny," I began to type. "I have some incredible news to share. The agent wants to represent me and send the novel out almost immediately!"

But as I typed the words, my phone abruptly rang, displaying the name "KELLY." Was she calling me from London? I guessed she was checking in to see how Evan was doing.

I sent the text to Danny and then answered the call, putting my phone to my ear.

"Kelly, how's it going? All good?"

"Yeah, thanks. You?"

She seemed a bit curt.

"Yeah, good. What's up? How's London? Must be quite the change from New York."

"Oh, absolutely," she gushed. "The architecture, the culture, it's all so charming and classy." She paused and sniffed. "Much classier than New York." It was very Kelly to say that. "And the job! I feel like I've found my place here."

"It sounds like you're really thriving over there, Kelly. That's fantastic news."

I was expecting her to ask how Evan was going, but she didn't. Instead, she dropped a bombshell: she had been offered a permanent job in London and wouldn't be returning to New York to live.

"What, ever? You mean you will stay there permanently?"

"Yeah," she said, real nonchalant.

"Jeez, Kelly…" She sighed, annoyed. My shock was palpable. "But what about Evan?"

"You can look after him, can't you?"

"Yeah, of course, but…"

Huh, she went sourly. "What, I'm his mom, so I shouldn't pursue my career? Just because you live in a dream about your work life, Bruno, doesn't mean we all do."

How much pleasure I might have got right then from telling her exactly what was happening with the dream I lived in, but I didn't.

"I'll need to think about this," I said, just to let her squirm a bit. I would actually love to have Evan full-time. "It's not just about me, Kelly. Evan's happiness and stability matter, too."

Kelly's tone softened. "I know it's a lot to take in, Bruno. But I have faith in you. You've always been such a great dad to Evan." She had some nerve even to say it, and then her tone changed again. "But you know, Bruno, this is happening. I am staying in London."

Kelly continued to talk, and I kind of checked out. I couldn't help but wonder about the road ahead and what it meant for Evan and me. One thing was certain –I needed to be ready for whatever came our way.

In that moment, I decided not to give Kelly the satisfaction of any annoyance. As she was still talking, I suddenly blurted out, "Great, Kelly! Great! I would love to have him full-time."

"Oh," she said, unhappy that I might be happy, even if it was also what she wanted. With a hasty goodbye, she went to end the call, telling me she would email me with any other things I needed to know.

"What about your apartment?" I asked. "Are you letting it go?"

"I am subletting it long term now."

"What, you've already found someone?"

"The same people are taking it on properly," she said. But just then, I didn't care what.

"Cool," I said. "Let me know if I can get the rest of Evan's things." Then, without saying another word, it was me who ended the call.

I held my phone in my hand, astonished by the turn of events in that single day. Just then, I realized I had a new text. I unlocked my screen. The message notification read:

DANNY

I tapped it to see what he had written:

AMAZING! I BELIEVED IN YOU!!!!

He was still typing, and a new message appeared.

I'LL SEE YOU IN A FEW HOURS

Could it – could he – have been more different to Kelly in that moment? And of course, feeling that, I knew I was falling a little deeper.