Page 109 of Necessary Time

Thankfully, Wesley didn’t seem to mind.

On the drive home, I unrolled my windows, playing whatever song Wesley had left on my phone. The tune was familiar and I whispered the words under my breath until it skipped over to one that wasn’t as recognizable.

After making it inside, I connected my phone to the Bluetooth speaker under my TV and kept the music going. For years, I’d been comfortable on my own, but now that I had Wesley in my life, I found the silence almost unbearable. I’d grown so used to the sound of his voice, the mess of his clothes, the smell of his skin, that being in my apartment without him was far too lonely.

But it was healthy.

Even if I wanted to spend every second with him, and he with me, it was important for him to develop his own personality and life separate from me. Maybe that was the old man in me talking, but it was the truth. And there was probably work for me to do there as well. I’d long ago let my friendship with Henry sever, and I’d shown no interest in rebuilding it or replacing it.

At least, I hadn’t. But then I’d met Hendrix and it felt like we were getting to that point, but then I’d gone and slept with his younger brother. I’d fallen in love with his younger brother. I didn’t know what the future of my relationship with Hendrix would look like, but I hoped it was something that could be recovered. I’d started to build a new circle somewhat accidentally with him and Wesley, and even Grayson. But I had to put in the effort to nurture those friendships if I wanted them to grow into the thing I was lacking.

I sent Wesley a text telling him I loved him, then I sent a follow up to Grayson making sure he’d eaten the breakfast I’d cooked for him and drank at least a glass of water. He responded quicker than Wesley with a slew of frowning emojis and then a picture of an empty plate and half empty glass.

It was close enough.

The next song was another I knew, and I let myself sing a little louder as I stripped out of my clothes and tossed them into the hamper. I took a quick shower, washing myself thoroughly before heading down to my parents’ house.

I didn’t want to go.

But I knew it was childish to avoid them.

It had taken longer than I would have wanted, but my mom was the one who reached out first, and that had to count for something. I didn’t imagine they would have initiated contact if they were going to continue being unhappy about what I’d told them the last time we saw each other. If they were going to struggle with my sexuality, they were definitely going to struggle with Wesley, and their judgement was not something I would ever agree to put him through.

I had to feel it out before I could decide the best path forward.

Much like how I couldn’t continue to hide from my interest in men, I couldn’t continue to hide from them either. Especially when so much of my life had been shaped around pleasing them. It was like something to reclaim, it seemed, and I kept that idea in my head while I dressed and disconnected my phone from the home speaker.

But the closer I got to Orange County, the more my nerves got the better of me. I was two blocks from my parents’ house when my palms began to sweat so profusely, they slipped off the steering wheel. I pulled up to the curb and put the car in park, rolling down all the windows and taking a series of long and deep breaths to quiet my mind.

It didn’t work.

If anything, in the silence, it got worse.

So, I called Wesley. He was quick to answer, the background of the call louder than him.

“Sorry!” he shouted over the noise. “Hold on.”

I closed my eyes while I listened to the sounds around him quiet to a more manageable hum.

“Sorry,” he said again. “Hey.”

“Where are you?” I asked.

“Getting a late lunch with Grayson.”

“At a bar?” I guessed.

“The turtle races one,” he said.

“Making any money?”

“Twenty-four bucks so far.”

“Not bad,” I said, breath finally feeling deep enough to reach my lungs.

“Are you all right? You go to your parents’ yet?”

“I’m a couple blocks away,” I admitted, scrubbing a hand down my face. “My nerves got the better of me and I pulled over.”