Chapter 29

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CLAY

When I get back to the building, I tear the costume off and shove it back in the bag. I'm frustrated and upset, churning with emotions I can't untangle.

It was Nicholas's thirtieth birthday party, and he was surrounded by all the people he loves. And what I did do? I gave him a paper bag full of hardware junk, drank a beer, and skulked off.

Can't believe he got me to wear that ridiculous costume, too. Mistake or not, it still makes me mad at him, but I don't want to be mad at him.

In my boxers, I walk around, fuming and frustrated, hurt and anxious.

I've been dreading saying goodbye to Nicholas. But now that it's happening, the sting is so much worse than I could have imagined. The party was a hard dose of reality, a bucket of cold water tossed on any fantasies I might have let myself entertain.

Nicholas belongs here, with happy people who paint their faces for him. Parents who show up to his birthday party and laugh with all his friends. His flower shop, the gayborhood. Sunny brunches in the backyard, and street festivals where he sells his bouquets.

But there's no place for me in that picture.

I'm leaving. I've always been leaving.

I knock into the side table, grab Randy's journal, and drop myself on the couch. I'm almost at the end, and I figure now is as good a time as any to see how it all falls apart for him.

My thumb rubs the edge of the notebook.

My grandpa's notebook.

Guess we have a lot in common. Maybe neither of us are cut out for this love shit. Hell of a thing to inherit from your family.

Over the last pages of the journal, he comes to the decision that he can't handle sharing Allen with anyone else, which he's honestly known all along. Allen asks him to give it a try, but my grandpa turns him down. From there, he goes on a little bit of a bender, and his brief, angry notes are all scribbled and hard to read.

When he's finally done ranting about how shitty love is, his handwriting evens out for one last entry.

Guess Allen and his "boyfriend" are moving to the middle of nowhere, buying a farmhouse a couple of hours away. Granfield Springs. Who ever heard of it? So I won't have to see him anymore, and I won't have to watch him date other people for the rest of my miserable life. Good! Maybe I can get some sleep now and put this whole mess behind me.

I close the notebook, incredibly depressed.

Fuck everything.

It's not like I expected a happy ending. I knew my grandpa was alone. But it's a punch in the gut to see it just end like that after so many pages of pining and mental anguish.

That's what's in store for me, and I don't think I can take it.

My thoughts race. Right now, Nicholas is at the party, hopefully dancing with his friends and celebrating himself, not thinking about me at all.

I know that he likes me and cares about me. He told me at the party that he's going to miss me, and it sliced through my chest. I like to imagine that he feels the way about me that I feel about him, but right now, I'm praying that's not true.

If it hurts him when I leave, that's my fault.

And the last thing I want to do is to hurt him.

I keep tormenting myself, ripping my guts open and wallowing in guilt, but it doesn't help. Nothing will help, I realize, when the truth is that it's over.

I don't think I can handle seeing him again.

Not now. Now that I've realized how fucked everything is, it's like I've already lost him.

How the hell am I supposed to see him when I can't have him?

I pull out my phone and open up a quick, impulsive message to Jacob, telling him that I'm ready to sell, but I need a decision soon. Immediately, I worry that I just shot myself in the foot, but he writes back and tells me that he's ready to do me one better. He's decided to move ahead and buy the building, and he makes a healthy offer. It's enough cash to go and start my new life, and I should be hooting and hollering in joy, but I'm deflated.

Abruptly, I jump into action and shove some of my crap in a bag. The renovations are done enough, and I don't actually need to finish projects that Jacob doesn't even know about in the first place.

I'll have to come back and get my stuff eventually, but now, I need air.

I need to be anywhere else, because here, every little thing reminds me of Nicholas.

I scribble a note for him and slide it under the door of his shop. No point in texting today and disrupting his party.

Best thing I can do for both of us is leave, so that's exactly what I do.