Page 7

JULIAN

I didn’t sleep much, which means I’m going to be super sluggish today. But how can I sleep? I logged into that site so many damn times and somehow never once caught that it read male opposed to mail .

Is it my subconscious? I certainly believe that my brain expected to see mail and so it did.

But did it continue to do so intentionally on a subconscious level?

I think about the three couples I know best—the ones I’m constantly saying are goals as far as the kind of relationship I want—and two/thirds of them are gay.

Did I think I needed another man to create exactly that kind of relationship? Was that what happened here?

I feel puzzled and a little lost, but I’m not exactly upset that Arush is a guy. Which might be a whole other avenue to consider. Honestly, the issue here might just be mindset. I’ve spent my entire life imagining a wife.

Can I adjust that image to imagine myself with a husband?

I’ve been staring at my ceiling for hours. Eyes wide open and sleep nowhere in sight. I might have dozed for a few hours at some point, but last night turned out entirely different than I thought it would.

It wasn’t difficult to see that Arush was upset last night.

I’d wanted to put his mind at ease, but I didn’t know how to do so.

Not in a convincing way. Considering I wasn’t sure where my head was at last night, there was no way I could say something to lend much comfort other than he wasn’t an object to be returned.

The disgust I felt at that question had me nearly scowling.

My alarm goes off and I absently hit the red X on my watch to turn it off.

With a heavy sigh, I sit up and rub my face.

I don’t usually take a shower in the morning, choosing to do so when practice is over for obvious reasons, but I feel like I need to wake up.

After a night of very little sleep, maybe a shower will do the trick.

I strip on my way to the bathroom and step into the shower before I turn on the water.

A rain of icy water makes me shudder, but I don’t move from under the spray as it gradually warms up.

I don’t bother to wash. Just stand under the water as it runs over me and try to organize my thoughts.

More than anything, I need to have a conversation with Arush.

I’m not sure what that conversation will consist of.

On paper, I’m all for falling in love with a person and not their body parts. Especially as an asexual man, body parts don’t really do it for me. But there’s an obvious elephant in the room. If I’m not romantically attracted to a man for whatever reason that may be, I can’t force it.

That’s the hetero agenda, isn’t it? Gay is a choice, so they should be able to be attracted to a woman. Intelligent people know that’s a line of shit. Which also means it’s all well and good to say that I should be open to loving a man, but I can’t force that attraction.

The question becomes whether it’s a mental block because I’ve always thought I’d have a romantic relationship with a woman or is it actually the attraction that I’m going to struggle with?

Is Arush going to want to stick around while I figure that out?

It’s not fair to ask him to float around in limbo while I get my shit together.

I shut the water off. Covering my face with my hands and wiping the loose water droplets away. Right now, I need to concentrate on hockey practice. Maybe when I get home, I’ll make time for Arush and me to have an actual conversation.

After brushing my teeth, I get dressed and grab my bag from the floor of my closet. Most of my gear is still at the arena since I left it behind yesterday before rushing home to get ready for my new wife. The thought makes me smile a little.

Technically speaking, I did bring someone home. That’s kind of a big deal since I can count on one hand how many people have been in my home since moving to Chicago.

I find Arush sitting at the end of the couch with a throw pillow hugged to his chest. His eyes move to mine immediately, and then the bag over my shoulders. His body tenses. A spike of distress flickers in his eyes.

“I’m just going to practice,” I tell him. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

He doesn’t relax, but the distress seems to melt away.

“Have you eaten breakfast yet?”

Arush shakes his head.

“You’re free to whatever you can find,” I tell him as I head for the kitchen, dropping my bag by the entry.

Arush follows after a minute while I’m throwing together a protein shake in the blender.

“There are English muffins, several kinds of breakfast meats, cheeses, grits, eggs, fruit, vegetables…” I rattle off before turning the blender on.

Arush still hasn’t moved when I’m finished blending. When I look at him, he’s examining the kitchen with a different kind of trepidation.

“You know how to cook?” I ask.

“I can figure it out,” Arush says. He meets my eyes and there’s a blush under his smooth bronze complexion. His facial hair is so neatly and expertly groomed, dark like the night. His eyes are almost as dark as his hair.

“Do you like breakfast sandwiches?” I ask.

He shrugs one shoulder, nodding. I imagine what we eat for breakfast is probably vastly different from what he’s used to. I should have been far more attentive to that.

“I’ll show you how to make a breakfast sandwich. While I’m gone, go through the pantry and fridge and make a list of the kinds of food you like that I don’t have. Okay?”

“I don’t need?—”

“Arush.” His words cut off, and he meets my eyes. “Please, do it. I should have asked far before you got here and I didn’t think of it until now. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head.

“Let’s begin with the basics. What don’t you eat? Allergies?”

“I don’t eat beef. I don’t have allergies that I know about.”

“Okay. How do you feel about pigs? Will you eat a pig?” He makes a face and I laugh. “Bacon. Ham. Pork chop. Any of that appealing?”

“Uh… bacon, sometimes.”

“Okay. Let’s begin your breakfast. There are English muffins and bagels in the bread box there. Grab whichever you like.” I turn for the fridge and grab a couple eggs from the door, a couple options of cheese, and a couple slices of bacon from the food container.

“Bacon, egg, and cheese is what I’m thinking. Do you like avocado? I have some slices that we can stick on there.”

“Yes.”

“Cool.” I grab the container of avocado slices and join him at the counter. He’s chosen a bagel. I fish out the necessary trays and bowls needed for the all-in-one air fryer and begin assembling. “Are you famished or just a normal morning hungry?”

Arush shakes his head. “Normal, I think.”

I choose a single egg for the little metal dish and then lay out everything on the different racks in the air fryer so it all cooks together.

“Ignore the first beeps. It’s just telling you to flip everything, but it’s not necessary for this meal.

You can assemble how you want when it comes out.

There’s fruit in the fridge and on the counter there.

” His eyes flicker to the bowl. “There are also a couple boxes of cereal in the pantry if you want an artificial sugar fix and three different kinds of milk in the fridge.”

“Why so many?” he asks as I head for the door with my protein shake.

“I use them for different things. If I blend my protein shake with fruit, I use coconut milk. I like the flavor. For baking or cooking, I tend to use cow’s milk or buttermilk.” Once again, Arush makes a face and I laugh. “I also have almond milk. Make sure you make that list, Arush. Promise?”

He nods. “Yes.”

I stare at him for a minute. I’m not sure what makes me warn him, but I feel the need to do so. “Don’t touch anything in the air fryer. It’s hot. There are tongs in the drawer to your right and potholders in the drawer under the silverware by the fridge.”

His eyes ping-pong around as I tell him. “Okay.”

“You going to be all right here?”

He nods again.

“I’ll be back soon.”

More nodding. I can tell he’s nervous and unsettled. I should have gotten up earlier to make sure he had something to eat. I’ve taken as much time as I can though. If I don’t leave now, I’ll be late.

“Text me if you need anything. I probably won’t answer but I’ll read it once I’m off the ice.”

Nodding.

Without knowing what else to say, I turn for the entry just as the first beeps fill the kitchen. I catch Arush jumping at the noise just as I’m turning and smile. I slip into my shoes as I pull my beanie over my head. Then my jacket.

“Don’t leave the condo,” I call. “I haven’t added you to the lease yet so they may not let you in again. We can head to the grocery store when I get back and stop at admin on the way to get you added. Okay?”

“Okay,” Arush calls back. I see him peek down the hall at me and I smile. I’m relieved when I receive one in return.

Maybe this’ll work out.

As it has all week, the drive to the arena has not been the transition into hockey brain that it usually is.

The hope I felt just yesterday is fighting to stay afloat.

A quiet promise that if I allow myself to explore something with Arush, then maybe the happy home I imagined when signing up for a mail-order spouse— male order! —can still happen.

What does it matter if he’s a guy? Moments between Keno and Etna flash through my mind as I slowly make my way through traffic. Their happiness. Their friendship—how it began and how it evolved. But it always remained too. I loved their laughter and how they looked at each other.

I’m less familiar with Lo and Caulder, having been around them far less.

Most of the moments I’ve seen between them are actually things that I hear when we’re playing games.

Caulder is only there maybe half the time since they play for separate teams and aren’t always able to be in the same place together.

But their love is loud. Not because they push it in your face, but because so many casual comments I’ve heard that seem so natural have a way of making me long for something similar.

Constantly.

“Gender is a construct,” I remind myself as I pull into the arena. I need to shelve the fact Arush is a guy and focus on him as a person.

Yep. That’s what I’m going to do.

I’m distracted for the entirety of practice as, once more, the shadows of hope flutter through me. This can work. Right?

On the way home, I’m struck with the idea that maybe Arush might not want to since I’ve been so…

weird since picking him up at the airport.

Ugh. Did I really fuck up already? God, why is life so difficult?

Why can’t we just know when something is right?

Why do I have to search so damn much for the one person who makes my heart happy and won’t get annoyed that I’m asexual?

Arush is that person , a quiet voice whispers in my head.

He can be, right? His words from last night follow that thought. “I’m still the same person you chose.”

He is.

I open the door and stop short when I find Arush standing just inside the entryway. At first, I think he’s on his way out. But given the way he’s looking at me, all nervous and trying to curl in on himself, I decide that maybe that’s not why he’s standing there.

“How was practice?” he asks as I make my way inside. He reaches for my gear bag as I begin peeling off the outside layers. I let him take it since I’m not quite sure what to do right now.

“It was okay. My team kind of sucks this year so… that has a way of fucking with our game even more, but it was all right.”

He nods as I step closer to him. “Where does this bag go?” he asks.

I take it from his hold, though he lets me have it back reluctantly. “I’ll show you,” I tell him and move toward the back of the condo where the laundry room is. “One of the reasons I chose this specific condo was because there’s a big tub in the laundry room.”

Arush looks at it with his brows puckered. “Why? This seems like a weird place for a tub. Is it an American thing?”

I laugh. “No. We’re weird, yes. I think, based on how high it is from the floor and how deep it is, that the previous residents washed their pets a lot. I think this is the kind of tub that groomers use.”

“Oh,” he says, still frowning.

I turn the water in the tub on and plug it up before pulling the Oxi cleaning powder from the shelf.

With a scoop spread throughout the water, I squirt a bit of Dawn dish soap in there, too.

Then I open my bag and bring my gear out, giving each piece a light wipe down with a soapy cloth before letting it soak.

Arush watches before bending to take a piece out. I grab his arm and he freezes, his eyes darting up to mine. My breath catches as a jolt streaks through my body. His lips part as he stares at me.

“You don’t have to,” I tell him. “Hockey gear can be really smelly because we sweat so much.”

“Okay,” he says, voice sounding breathless. As soon as I release his arm, he pulls out one of my leg guards and mimics what I’m doing in the tub.

I smile, bowing my head so it doesn’t become too obvious.

“Did you make a food list?” I ask.

Arush sighs. “Yes, but—” He bites his lower lip. “I’m going to be honest with you. I come from a pretty wealthy family and I’ve never cooked a day in my life. I have no idea what’s in the kitchen.”

I chuckle. “I think your profile says something about you coming from an upper-class home.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you make out with breakfast okay?”

He nods. “It was good.”

“Did you burn yourself?”

Arush smiles and I find I really enjoy it. “No. Full disclosure. I made a bit of a mess, but I cleaned it up.”

I laugh. “That’s okay. How about if we find an Indian restaurant tonight for dinner and you can take a look at the menu? We can go from there as to what kinds of foods you’d like.”

“I don’t want to replace the foods you like.”

“We won’t. We’ll trade off meals and both experience the foods of the other’s culture.”

He smiles at me again, this time meeting my eyes. “I like that.”

I do too. This feels like we’re getting on the right track. All over the stew that is dirty, smelly, sweaty hockey gear in a tub of warm water.

Is this going to set the tone for our relationship? What does that say about it?