26. BRUNO

My meetings with my new editor, Karin, became a highlight of my week. She taught me about the intricacies of publishing and promotion, and she set out charting a course for my journey over the next year to hardback and then paperback publication. She introduced me to publicity and marketing people, who talked about major interviews in the American – and British – media, reading tours, and other promotional work.

The prospect of seeing my book come to life now seemed so very real. Every detail, from cover design to marketing strategies, was laid before me, and people sent me emails asking for my comments and my approval. My agent, Cheryl, told me just to be my "pleasant self" but to remember, "You're the boss now, Bruno. You're the talent."

With the news of my book deal, my freelance work surged. People who had ignored my pitches a few months earlier now couldn't wait to book me for articles. With each new project that landed on my desk, I felt the enormousness of the change in my life. People asked me why I was still doing so much freelance work when I was going to be a "rich novelist," but the truth was this: once you've been poor with a kid, you just cannot turn away paying work. Despite all my success, I felt anxious. I felt like something was missing.

In that time, Evan just blossomed, living with me full-time. Gone were painful inquiries about Danny, and we just hung out after school and on the weekend and had a lot of fun. I was nowhere near dating, though.

I started to see Marlon a bit more, just as friends. His new relationship was going really well, and whatever there had been between us was over. As we got to know each other again, he said that it was one of the best things about gay men, that just because your relationship didn't work out didn't mean you couldn't celebrate all the things you did like about each other, platonically.

One day, we met up for coffee. We found ourselves in a little hipster barista place in the East Village. It was he who said to me, "If you are having so much success, Bruno, why do you have such a long face all the time?"

I hadn't told him much about Danny. But now I began to unlock the whole story, how it started, what it had suddenly become, how it ended, and what haunted me about it. It was good to tell someone the truth.

I told him about Danny's congratulatory text, our last text, and how conflicted it had made me feel, and I did that thing I always did, of just shutting down, shutting off when real emotion came too close. To my surprise, Marlon's response was not one of sympathy but of laughter.

"Oh, just lighten up," he cried.

"What?"

"Lighten up!"

Confused, I searched Marlon's face.

"What-what do you mean?"

"Do you like this guy?"

Marlon's question was so simple and so perceptive. That was his great gift, as a person, to just cut to the quick.

"Yes," I said. "Very much."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Do you know the saying ‘When you know you know'?"

I nodded.

"Yes."

He smiled in such genuine, sweet friendship.

"Well, then. When you know, you know. That's all there is to say. Everything else is just…"

I felt awful as I realized what he might say next:

"Pride?"

He shook his head.

"No, Bru. Everything else is just defending yourself. But the truth is you have to put yourself out there. You have to be vulnerable to get what you want in the first place."

"Are you saying I should forgive him?"

He laughed again.

"Forgive him for what? He didn't steal your money. He didn't cheat on you." He grinned, reaching forward to tap the back of my hand, which held my coffee. "If you love someone, what does forgiveness have to do with it? Just work it out and be together, and be happy." He drained his cup. "Don't make it any more complicated than that."

That weekend, Evan was due to stay with Kelly's mom in New Jersey. On a crisp Saturday morning, Evan and I embarked on our journey to Kelly's mom's house in the suburbs of Jersey City. With a skip in his step, Evan bubbled with excitement – he loved being with his grandmother – as we navigated our way through the New York streets.

As we boarded the train bound for New Jersey, Evan's anticipation reached a fever pitch. As we stepped off the train and onto the platform, my son caught my hand as we walked through the streets of Jersey City.

When we got to her street, Kelly's mom greeted us with a warm smile and open arms to Evan, her kind eyes twinkling with genuine affection as she hugged him. In that moment, Evan laughed and then ran off to play in the comfortable surroundings of Kelly's mom's house. She and I chatted about how Kelly was doing in London, and I pretended to be pleased at how happy she was over there, not thinking much about our son.

I returned to my Manhattan apartment and decided to take a shower. The warm water cascaded over my body, washing away the grime of my journey. I soaped my body carefully, every part of it, and then toweled off and just hung out naked in my apartment, for once unencumbered by the presence of my son. I went and got a glass of water from the faucet. Then, I heard a text on my phone. I had left it on my kitchen counter. Reaching for it, I saw his name:

MARLON

I clicked on the message:

REMEMBER

WHEN YOU KNOW YOU KNOW