Page 61 of The Colors Between Us

“Not at all.”

Roland shoved a piece of pizza into his mouth and widened his eyes at Gabriel, waiting for an explanation regarding his unprecedented visit.

“Donny doesn’t know I’m here,” Gabriel started.

Roland chewed and swallowed. The pizza lodged itself in the middle of his throat. He slapped his hand against his chest and willed it the rest of the way down.

“He’s pretty done with me,” Roland said quietly, stuffing another bite of pizza into his mouth before he said something regrettable to a practical stranger.

Gabriel arched an eyebrow. “Is that what you think?”

“He’s not answering my calls or my texts. I went by the house and he wouldn’t answer the door. He doesn’t want to see me.” Roland placed his palms flat on the table and intently studied the shape of his fingers so he could avoid eye contact.

“Debatable,” Gabriel said. “But that’s neither here nor there.”

“Then what is the point of this visit?” Roland was getting agitated. He would have welcomed Gabriel’s visit if it brought news of Donny, but as far as he could tell, Gabriel had no intention of divulging anything about him and Roland felt a flicker of resentment curl up inside him.

“I just wanted to see how you were holding up. I know being apart from the person you love can be hard.”

“What do you know about it?” Roland asked, skeptical.

“Joel left me, once.” Gabriel’s voice softened, and he took a small sip of water then held the glass with both hands on the table. “Different circumstances, obviously. I had overstepped.”

Roland snorted. “I overstepped.”

Gabriel cocked his head to the side. “Not quite the same, I promise.”

Roland’s stomach growled and he managed to take another bite of pizza and swallow it with minimal effort.

“You won him back?”

Gabriel shook his head. “He came back on his own.”

Roland squeezed his eyes closed and dropped the pizza back down onto the cutting board. “I don’t see Donny coming back on his own.”

Roland hated himself for that.

“Then in the meantime, it’s a perfectly good opportunity to focus on Roland Wilson, isn’t it?”

“I’m trying,” he choked out, his voice sounding much less certain of the plan than he’d felt earlier.

“Same as I. That’s all you can do, honestly. And I think you know that.”

Roland nodded reluctantly. “That’s the hard part.”

A silence passed between them.

Gabriel chuckled. “How’s painting?”

Roland pushed his chair back and stood, gesturing over his shoulder with this thumb. “Want to see?”

Gabriel’s eyes widened and he stood, smoothing his hands down the front of his slacks. “I’d be honored,” he said, following Roland down the hallway. “As you saw, I’m a fan.”

Roland nodded.

“I didn’t remember them looking so vibrant,” Roland said, pushing open the door to the studio, “The sunsets I mean. I’d forgotten.”

“Time blurs memories.”