Chapter Ten

You wanna come over for dinner again?

Alex sends the text around lunchtime and tries to push the phone away so he doesn't keep staring at it, but Elijah's response is too quick.

Thanks but I've gotta take care of some stuff around here.

It's not a surprise somehow, how easily Elijah blows him off, and Alex has a hard time knowing why he's upset by something he should have expected all along. He vaguely remembers Elijah telling him that inevitable things can still suck, and this definitely does, the disappointment on his face apparently enough to have Steven stop by Alex's desk to make sure he's okay.

He's not. Or maybe he's always been fine. But Alex wants to be so much better than that now.

He refocuses on work the rest of that afternoon and runs too many errands on his way home. On Wednesday, Alex goes to the office early and jogs around the track at the neighborhood park when he gets home, and he avoids the detours that could take him to Elijah's grandpa's house. Thursday brings Steven by his desk again, with a happy hour invitation Alex accepts, and he's careful to avoid getting drunk enough or sad enough or stupid enough to leave a voicemail he'd regret. Friday is weirdly fine, and the kind of busy he doesn't mind when his job is mostly predictable, and his mind needs somewhere safe to wander.

Through the entire week, all his texts to Elijah are answered within a reasonable amount of time, but nothing either of them has to say is more meaningful than something Alex could send to Elena's fourth grade teacher, and he can't help but wonder whether an actual fight would feel any better, a blatantly bleeding wound maybe better than the ache of a phantom limb.

As if it's gone in search of an answer, it's Alex's body that wakes him in the middle of Friday night, his hips grinding downward into his mattress while a moaned name gets mostly smothered by his pillow, and he wants to cry because he can't do this now. He can't be desperate for Elijah's touch when they aren't even talking the way they should, but Alex is only caged by bars he's very carefully placed one by one, and he finally gives in to the need to kick at a couple of them, rolling onto his back and stroking himself over his boxer briefs until it's not enough. Alex shoves his boxers out of the way and thrusts into his own hand, already so fucking close and hating that everything could be exactly this easy if he would only allow it to be. He imagines Elijah on top of him again, and he thinks about Elijah's fingers and Elijah's tongue and Elijah's cock, and that's all it takes before he's coming all over his hand and onto his bare stomach, his body shaking with something too close to a sob until Alex is on his feet just to force himself out of a moment that must be unfair to at least one of them.

By late Saturday afternoon, Alex is just frustrated enough to keep rattling the bars of his cage, and maybe to keep being a little unfair too, stuck on the idea of seeing Elijah after five days apart. It's not the same as a date out in public, but Alex decides that making another appearance at the bar has the chance to scare the hell out of him almost as much, and perhaps Elijah will see it for the small step it is.

Alex's shower lasts too long, and getting dressed afterward seems to take even longer, everything about the process making him feel increasingly bare even when the exact opposite is happening. It's not all that late when he leaves home, and the traffic treats him well enough, giving him hope that maybe the bar isn't all that much more crowded than the streets, Saturday night or not. That maybe he and Elijah can talk, however selfish that might be.

There's music coming from inside as he walks up the sidewalk toward it, and Alex realizes he'd forgotten about the live band there once a week. He considers turning around, but then someone coming out of the bar holds the door open for him, and there's no real option but to thank them and take what's been offered. Dodging a handful of people hanging out near the makeshift stage, Alex notices two bartenders he hasn't seen before, then Tyler, and then Elijah, just returning from the back and finding Alex immediately, like there was any way he could've known.

There's some kind of smile there, but it takes Alex a moment to find it.

The table he's sat at the first two times is taken now, but he's impressed enough to find another one open next to it, most of the crowd in the room seeming to gravitate toward the patio and the music and the bar itself, Alex's dark wall there only for the people like him who don't have anywhere else to go.

He slides onto the stool only a few seconds before a coaster and beer land in front of him.

"I"m not really working anywhere but behind the bar tonight," Elijah says.

Alex assumes it's the truth, but he's not sure what to do with it. He looks around, blinking at the new view of everything, so much the same while it's also just different enough to make him a little dizzy.

"Okay. Does that mean I should stay or go?"

Elijah shakes his head, the weight of something else slowing him down. "It doesn't mean anything, Alex. Just letting you know where I'll be."

He's gone again, as smoothly as he'd appeared, back to work as Eli, with his wide smile and bright eyes and the ability to charm every person in front of him at once. Alex watches, as much to see whether a seat might open up there as for any other reason, but nobody moves away from Elijah, and Alex can't imagine why they would. It's a convenient excuse, of course, a bullshit explanation for why he remains exactly where he is when he could be anywhere he really wants to be. Tyler stops by eventually—whether to check on him professionally or otherwise, Alex doesn't know—but he waves off a second beer and thanks him for the trouble and finishes what he's got while nobody bothers to watch him all that closely.

Then Alex slips some cash under his empty glass, nods one more thank you to Tyler, and leaves the bar.

The drive home is all loud music and rolled down windows on a crisp, windy night, and he doesn't hear the text he wouldn't have seen until later anyway. But when he picks up his phone after he's parked in his driveway, he couldn't look away from Elijah's name if he tried.

Please let me know when you're home safe

So he does, and then he goes inside to do just about anything but sleep.

He's a zombie the next morning, but there are no more messages from Elijah, and Alex forces himself out of the house for a run on legs that spend the entire time screaming at him. He eats and tastes nothing and showers and feels little, but Cassidy will drop Elena off that night, and while it's not even a little bit fair for him to rely on his kid to cheer him up, Alex is grateful for the easy reason to smile for a week, fully unsure what he'll do with his free time after that. Thanksgiving is coming up, and he's not sure he's dreaded a day like this in a very, very long time, his entire family poised to push and pull and observe and condemn, all in the name of love.

But that will be then, and this is now, and when he hears Cassidy and Elena pull up outside, he moves to the front door and opens it for his daughter.

And Cass is there, too.

"Hey, I didn't think we were walking her to the door anymore," he mumbles stupidly, Elena already running past him and upstairs to put her stuff away.

Cassidy smiles. "No, we're not. Not really. But I wanted to talk to you about something and now—now I'm kinda wondering if what I was going to talk to you about is the same reason you look like—"

She trails off and sort of waves her hand toward his face, but it's unnecessary when he can assume just how terrible he looks, though he's avoided mirrors all day just for the sake of sparing himself some of the probably well-earned pain.

"I'm flattered," he says as he backs up and holds the door wide open. "You want to come in?"

"Sure."

"You want a drink?"

"Sure."

Alex nods and moves into the kitchen, grateful when he finds an unopened bottle of Jameson he thinks Cassidy probably should've taken with her when she moved out, and he returns to her side with two glasses in hand just as Elena skips back down the stairs.

"Hey, bug, how about you grab our blankets and get started with the TV while mommy and I go out back to talk for a little bit?" he says, turning toward his daughter even as he presses the drink into Cassidy's waiting hand.

Elena looks back and forth between them, and Cassidy is quick to reassure her. "We're just talking, babe."

"And I'll make us some popcorn as soon as we come back inside, okay?" Alex offers.

His daughter still looks a little skeptical, the last several talks between her parents resulting in their impending divorce, but she's been bought off by a bribe or ten before and it works again for now.

"Yeah, okay," she agrees.

He and Cass make their way outside and close the sliding door most of the way behind them, the night cold, but the patio heater quick to change that for them as they sit down, everything about this so painfully familiar when it's nothing like it was before. Alex looks out over what used to be their backyard and takes a long sip from his glass.

"So," she starts, and somehow he already knows what the next word will be, even while he isn't prepared for it at all, the sound foreign on his ex's tongue. "Elijah."

"Elijah," he echoes.

"He was your early morning walk."

"My new habit," he confirms. "Elena told you."

It's not exactly a question, but she shrugs and answers. "Not in so many words, but she"s used the phrase ‘Daddy's friend, Elijah' enough times for me to wonder. Mentioned that he came over for dinner, too."

"Yeah, I guess I've heard plenty about Michael."

"Ah, but she and Michael have never met," she says. "Which is what I originally wanted to talk to you about. Introducing our kid to significant others without a heads up about it."

Alex looks over at her, startled by at least a couple of things she said and doing his best to stay calm while the thump of his heart underscores his attempt at a response. "I—I'll admit I hadn't thought about it one way or another, and that's—I didn't realize she and Michael hadn't met yet, but also I swear I didn't—I really had no idea what Elijah and I were going to become when I invited him over that night. And for what it's worth, I'm not sure we're significant anything now."

"Yeah, the fact that you look like shit kinda gave that much away."

"Thanks."

"Of course," she murmurs. "Wanna tell me about it?"

His head is still turned in her direction, so he catches all the sincerity in her offer, and it threatens to take his breath away. She hasn't looked away either, this person who has known him better than anyone else for more than half his life, and she just waits for him to decide what he's going to do.

She's not the only one who might be waiting, and Alex sighs at that before he chases the realization with a sip of whiskey.

"His grandpa lived a few streets over from here, died a couple of years ago, and Elijah has been cleaning out his house. I went for a walk when he was having a garage sale, and I stopped to buy a few things."

"And got one hell of a deal, huh?"

He starts to chuckle at that, but then remembers his goal that morning and laughs a little more. "Funny thing about it was that I actually bought books I was going to give to you for Christmas. Some leather-bound classics."

Cassidy frowns a little, and it's still adorable, even now. "But I'm not getting them anymore?"

"No, we, um—" He pauses for a second because as much as he loves her, he won't give her the whole story. Their story. "Elijah and I found out they were actually really important to his family—his family's history, really—and then we got to talking about them—his family and who they were and how they loved, and I—I really didn't know."

"Didn't know what?"

"I didn't know any of it," he admits. "Who I am and how I've loved. And I know that just sounds like denial, but Cass—you were my everything."

"Mmmm, no, Alex. I really wasn't, though," she argues, so gentle about it. "I was enough, and you thought that was the same thing."

"And I'm allowed to want more."

"He told you that?" she asks.

"Yeah."

"Smart man."

"Among other things, yeah," he says.

"So, what the hell happened?"

"I don't really know if anything did. Maybe we weren't enough of a thing for it to matter yet," he huffs, knowing full well it's a lie. They were barely together before they went back to being apart, but something happened in between. Could still be happening, if Alex lets a story from the past teach him anything about the present. "I just—I was wrong for so long. I was wrong and I hurt you and I hurt Elena and I—I don't want to be wrong like that again. I'm terrified of it."

She looks like there are a few things she wants to say in response, but she keeps it simple. "And what does Elijah have to say about that?"

"That he doesn't think I'm a coward, but he's still sad that I'm afraid. That he's not mad at me for not telling you guys about him, but that maybe I didn't make that decision for me. That I should stop thinking of myself as the bad guy when relationships don't have to have any villains at all."

"Smart man," she says again. "And you said you're terrified of being wrong again, but I don't think you were wrong the first time. I just don't think you asked any of the right questions. But then I asked them, and it sounds like Elijah has too, so maybe it's finally your turn. For what it's worth, I really, really hope it is."

Alex rolls the glass in his hand, watching as the ice cubes and liquid collide softly over and over again because it's easier than looking at Cassidy right now.

"I loved you, you know. Still do."

"Love you, too, Alex. But don't stop yourself from falling in love with him just because you're scared you'll have to have this same conversation in another 20 years."

It's not the longest he and Elijah have gone without seeing each other, but even with Elena at home with him and work still a little busier than usual, Alex has to claw through another week, struggling to keep from looking at the clock and the calendar and the rest of the books he'd bought from Elijah—ones without Peter and Edgar's story, but maybe ones he should return to Elijah all the same. He supposes it would give him an excuse to stop by Elijah's sometime, and who knows, maybe Cassidy wasn't wrong.

Maybe there's still a chance for more than that.

Cassidy hadn't left right after their conversation Sunday night, deciding to spend some time with Alex and Elena right there on the couch, a bowl of popcorn shared among them. They'd been careful not to touch—careful not to mislead Elena about anything—but it might not matter for long anyway, Cassidy having told Alex that she'd like to invite Michael to have Thanksgiving dinner with her and Elena. Alex had agreed easily, though he can't stop thinking now about the fact that it only gives him one more reason to want to sleep straight through the holiday instead of showing up at his parents' house, even as she'd nudged him again to listen to all her good advice.

But Alex knows he needs to listen to her, and he needs to listen to Elijah, and he needs to listen to himself, maybe just this once, because he's finally allowed himself to want, and he hasn't figured out how to stop.

In the end, he doesn't have to do much except pick up the package waiting on his doorstep when he returns home from work on Friday afternoon, Elena right behind him with another week of school conquered, small hands wrapped around the straps of her backpack.

"Did you order something?" she asks.

"No, I—it was dropped off here, not mailed," he mumbles, hurrying to unlock the door so he can read the note tied to the top. "How about you go upstairs for a little bit before we head out to dinner? You have those new library books you wouldn't put down this morning before school."

She squeals at the reminder and runs off, and Alex carries the box into the living room, setting it down on the coffee table without looking inside, careful when he pulls the note free. It's folded in half with his name scrawled on the outside, and he opens it to find a print of "Annabel Lee," a message to him written in the margin.

A, I found this book at my grandpa's house, and I thought you should see it too, but I didn't want to show up unannounced while you're with your daughter. I haven't read through it all because I don't know if I'm ready yet, but I've seen enough to know it's the rest of their story. You said you didn't want it to be the end, and it doesn't have to be, but I'm putting everything in your hands now. ~E

Alex swallows hard and blinks away whatever has made it difficult to read Elijah's note the first, second, and third time he does so. He glances at his phone, then toward the stairs, and back to his phone again, picking it up and tapping until he hears the ringing in his ear.

"Alex," Elijah answers. "I didn't—you didn't have to call me. It's not why I—"

"No, I did though. I wanted to make sure I caught you before you left for work. I think we need—"

"M'not going to work tonight," Elijah interrupts with a sigh. "I called out. I just—finding that book took a lot out of me, and I don't think faking a smile for the next several hours is gonna help anything."

The book. Shit, Alex hasn't even opened the box yet. He pulls the lid off and sees a gorgeous collection of Edgar Allan Poe works, thick and bound in leather and inscribed with something delicate. But he can't go any further than that while he still has Elijah on the phone and his mind is whirring with another idea already.

"Okay, hey, listen, can I call you right back?" Alex asks. "I just need to check on something."

"Yeah, I mean—you really didn't have to call at all. You don't—"

"No, I—just give me a few minutes. Please."

Elijah agrees, and Alex takes a deep breath, leaving his phone on the table with the book so he can run upstairs and talk to Elena. Over the past handful of months, these Friday night dinners with her have been so special to him, and he hopes they've been as important to her, so he's not about to mess with their plans if there's any chance she'll mind.

"Wait, Elijah's coming with us on pizza night?" she squeaks a minute later, her eyes wide and her smile even more so.

"Well, I haven't invited him yet," Alex says. "And I don't know if he'll be able to. But I wanted to make sure it would be okay with you if I asked him to go with us."

"Yes, yes, yes. He's awesome, and he makes you so silly."

And that is a lot to hear from a kid who's only met Elijah once, but he also needs to manage her expectations tonight.

"Okay, yes, he's very awesome, and he does make me a little silly, but also he might not have quite as much energy for all of that right now."

"Is he sick?" she asks.

"Nope, not sick," he promises. "He just has a lot on his mind, so he might not be very focused on being funny tonight."

Elena shrugs. "Okay. But he'll probably be fine by dessert."

Alex smiles and his eyes fall shut for a moment while he takes it all in. Sure, she might not know as much as Cass, might not be able to see through him quite so easily, but his kid is happy and comfortable and bothered by so little, and he just nods when he looks at her again, careful not to dislodge her ponytail when he caresses the top of her head.

"Thanks, bug. I'm gonna go talk to him about it now."

He settles back onto the couch, takes another several seconds to catch his breath, and then calls Elijah back.

"Hi again," Elijah answers carefully.

"Will you please come to dinner with us tonight?"

"I—dinner? It's Friday night."

Alex chuckles. "Do you not eat on Fridays?"

"Shut up, you know what I mean," Elijah huffs. "You and Elena always go out on Friday nights, just the two of you."

"Which is why I already asked her how she feels about it being just the three of us."

"But I—I called out of work because I think I'd probably make exceptionally shitty company right now. That book—I—Alex—"

"Hey, no, listen, you don't have to entertain us or anything. Just come with us and get out of your head for a while and then—this doesn't have to be anything else. It can just be pizza."

There's a beat of silence. Maybe two. "You know I want it to be more than pizza."

A third, and then a fourth. "I think it already is. I think it has been."

"And you're still okay with me being there with you and Elena?"

"I want you with us," Alex says. "And Cassidy knows. We talked on Sunday night when she was here."

"Oh. Okay. And?"

"And she fully took your side on everything."

"Alex, I told you, there don't have to be sides here," Elijah sighs.

"Okay, fine. She fully agreed with you that there don't have to be sides here."

Elijah laughs, maybe in spite of himself. "Smart woman."

"God help me, I am going to have to supervise you two very closely if you're ever in the same room."

"Kinda feels like the same room thing will be inevitable if this is more than pizza."

"Kinda does," Alex agrees. "So, does that mean we're on for dinner?"

"As long as Elena's okay with it, yeah, I'll get changed and head out soon. Should I meet you at your house or the restaurant?"

"Our house. We can drive there together." And I wish you could stay after.

They say goodbye and Alex yells up to Elena that they'll be leaving in about half an hour, and then he finally, finally takes a closer look at the book still resting inside the box on his coffee table. It's huge, though he supposes a complete collection of Poe's work would be bigger than the other books Elijah's grandpa had kept. Alex makes a note to ask where this one was, if not with all the books Elijah had already sold or kept for himself, but then he runs reverent fingertips over the cover and takes a peek inside to see what had made Elijah so sure he'd found the rest of Peter and Edgar's story.

And oh—

Oh—

Oh.

Alex can't wrap his head around any of it. That all of this exists or that Elijah would trust it in his hands or—

There's just so much there because it's not actually a book at all, only a container made to look like one, and hollow inside until it was filled with more letters and cards and pictures and ticket stubs and memories than Alex could have ever imagined. Whatever story had started in the margins of a few classic novels had become this, a collection more precious than whatever Edgar Allan Poe once dreamed of putting together, and Alex only just starts looking through some of it when he feels overwhelmed by it all.

Now Alex understands why Elijah didn't feel like he could fake a smile all night, because while there might still be a happy ending here—while it might be even more likely than before—they'll probably find a lot of heartache too, and maybe some answers to questions they've only barely asked.

And there's no time to ask more now. Alex carefully closes the cover of the book, leaves Elijah's note on top, then puts the lid back on the box just as Elena comes running downstairs.

"Was it a good package?" she asks.

"It was, yeah, bug."

"Is Elijah coming over?"

There's a knock at the door then and they both laugh, Alex moving forward to open it. "Pretty sure that's him, actually."

Elijah is tentative when he steps inside, and Alex hates that he did that to him—made him doubt whether he could be fully comfortable here—but he'll work to change that, starting now. Elena's smile is suddenly timid too, and Alex kinda wants to knock everyone's heads together until they forget that anything was ever awkward.

"It's okay if you're not feeling so great right now," Elena offers to Elijah. "The pizza is so good, and I already told dad you might need some dessert."

Elijah's head tips backward when he laughs, and it shouldn't be nearly as attractive as it is. "I think you're probably right, and I will be happy to share dessert if you think you might need some, too."

So, the three of them head out, Alex driving while Elijah and Elena find that they have plenty to talk about, internal turmoil and unexpected shyness gone before Alex has a chance to worry about it for long. Dinner is a whole lot of the same, Elena carrying most of the conversation from where she sits next to Alex in the perfectly worn vinyl booth, Elijah smiling just fine from across the table without having to fake anything for either of them. He and Alex each have a couple of beers, they share a plate of the best cheesy garlic bread, and eat more pizza than they probably should, and then Elena looks at them wide-eyed and Alex gives into the plea for dessert, Elijah insisting that he'll be fine with whatever she picks out.

And Alex is—he's so far gone. His hand inches closer to where Elijah's rests on the table while they wait, but he looks toward his daughter and then up to Elijah, who's watching him carefully and just nods.

"Hey, bug, there's something I want to tell you before we all get a few bites of cheesecake, and if you have any questions about it, you can totally ask, okay?"

"Okay," Elena says, experience leaving her just a bit wary.

"It's not bad, I promise," Alex hurries. "But you know how your mom and Michael are dating now?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, well," he starts, moving his hand the rest of the way until he's holding on to Elijah's. "Elijah and I are dating, too."

Her eyes dart between them, back and forth and back again. "No way. So Elijah's coming to all our Friday dinners now? That's so awesome, I'm gonna scream and I—"

"Whoa, slow down, Laney-bug," Alex laughs. And he's just—he's blown away that it was just that easy, and that her only question has to do with how many times she might get dessert with her new partner in crime. "We appreciate the screaming, but don't actually need to hear it. And Elijah usually works Friday nights, so he won't be here for dinner, but I'm sure we can have him over to the house some other times, okay?"

"I will definitely come over to your house if that's okay with you," Elijah promises. "Maybe you and I can bake cookies or brownies sometime."

Alex sits back with the realization that every dream and nightmare in his future might feature Elijah, Elena, and Cassidy hanging out in his kitchen. With cocktails, sugar, and way too much honesty, probably.

But after their shared slice of cheesecake, they finish up and head back to the house, the three of them piled on the couch for a movie Elena insists she can stay up to watch, even while Alex already knows better. She falls asleep between them, but Alex waits until the movie is over to bother picking her up and taking her upstairs, changing his clothes as long as his room is right there.

Elijah eyes his joggers and hoodie as soon as Alex makes it back to the living room. "Looks cozy."

"Would've brought you something to wear, but I have a feeling you won't stay long enough for that."

"No, I won't," Elijah admits. "It's been a big night, though."

"How are you doing with everything?" Alex asks, folding himself onto the couch next to Elijah, his hand landing on his thigh, still cautious when so many things feel fragile.

Elijah leans in for a kiss, just as careful. "Still sort of stunned, I think. Off balance, maybe."

"Because of what was hidden in the book, or because of me?"

"Isn't it all kind of the same thing by now?" Elijah huffs.

Alex doesn't bother to answer, because they both know Elijah's right. "Obviously it wasn't kept with all the other books. Where did you find it?"

"Under my grandpa's bed, of all places," Elijah tells him. "I guess when my brother and sister-in-law moved in and packed some stuff up, they just never bothered with anything he'd kept there. Wasn't really in their way, so it was easy to ignore, I guess."

"And when you were going through the house to find stuff for the garage sale, that wouldn't have been a top place to look."

"Nope. And I broke down the bed from the spare bedroom, and sold all the dressers and whatnot, but I'd kept his bed just so I'd have a place to sleep when I crashed there. Figured I could sell that easily enough down the road."

"So, it's a mostly empty house now, but it was able to keep one last secret until today."

Elijah nods. "Probably right when we needed it."

Alex looks down at Elijah's lap, where his hand is now covered by Elijah's, their fingers loosely threaded together. It's such a small thing, but several days ago, he didn't know if he'd ever touch Elijah again. Even after his talk with Cassidy, he didn't know how he'd be able to touch Elijah again.

"I'm sorry," Alex whispers.

"Hey, no, look at me," Elijah urges. But when Alex does, whatever Elijah was about to say has to wait, another kiss taking them both by surprise. It's so tender at first, but then maybe they both remember the night Elijah had left Alex by the front door, when they were both walking away from what they wanted because neither could quite find the right way to fight for it. So, they curl around each other now, their mouths open and warm and needy, Elijah breathless when they finally part. "There are no bad guys and we both made some mistakes. And I think it's good to apologize for those—it's not that you can't say you're sorry. But I'm sorry too, because I was trying so hard not to push you, that I convinced myself I could just let go, and I—I don't want to. I never wanted to."

"And how much of that was always Peter and Edgar's story, too?" Alex muses. "Peter scared. Edgar not wanting to push too hard for more. Neither one of them ever wanting to let go. You think they ever got close?"

"To letting go or loving each other out loud?"

"Both, I guess."

Elijah shrugs. "I have a feeling we'll find out—or at least learn enough to make a better guess about how it all happened."

"You don't want to do any of that tonight, though."

"No, not tonight. Tonight, I just want this. Us."