Page 33 of The Time It Takes

Chapter fifteen

Of course, once I gothome, I started doubting everything again within twenty-four hours. Yeah, it had felt good to spill my guts—to get all of that stuff out in the open, and not be laughed out of therapy for it—but in the cold light of my real life, it felt incredibly stupid. What, I saw Arlie dating a guy and felt wistful and made up a whole story about how I should date guys too and finally find real love? Give me a break. Yeah, it could be true—and it could be another weird reaction to the whole Darby situation.

It would be messed up if I took one look at Arlie finally finding himself, and being happier than he had been, and thought somehow I had to make it about me, about me finding myself and getting happier—and how of course that would also be about attraction to men.

Basically, I could talk myself out of it all pretty easily if I gave it some thought. Worst of all, the shame I felt, and how disgusted I was with myself. I'd been so earnest, I'd spoken so emotionally, I'd really let it all out—and what if I'd just been making it all up?

Maybe I'd just talked myself into it. Maybe I'd been overthinking. I could do that, sure. But it wasn't really normal for me to overthink things that hard and that deeply. I kind of just got on with my life, normally. Even if Arlie was part of the thought process, let's be real—he couldn't be that big of a part. I wasn't thinking about making out with him or something.

It kind of seemed like the whole "maybe I'm bi" thing was more left field than that, and more about the other parts of my life, not just Darby, either, but a whole lifetime of trying to avoid being called gay. And yet finding my relationships with women on some level almost always deeply unsatisfying.

I hated thinking that. I hated looking back at my dating history and shuddering internally as I thought about how I'd wanted it to work, or the reasons things just hadn't felt right, and whether it was actually something deeper—I just wasn't capable of having what I wanted with a woman, even if I was sincerely trying.

It made me feel stupid. It made me feel broken. And it made me feel like I was lying to myself about the whole thing—sometimes one way, sometimes another. I didn't know what was true for me, or if it was something I was ever going to figure out.

I hated feeling so broken.

None of these feelings were pleasant, and none of them made me want to confide in Arlie about the whole "what if" thing, either. It had been a relief to spill my guts to the therapist, but I felt ashamed and weird about it afterwards. (What if I was wrong? What if I was too emotional and weird about it? What if I hadn't used the right words?) Still, at least he was paid to listen, and what I said didn't leave that office. With Arlie, I'd have to face him the next day, if I told him anything like that. And the day after that, and the day after that, the whole rest of our long, awkward lives together.

It wasn't that I thought he'd look down on me. More that it was just a lot to tell someone, especially when I was still pretty raw and unsure about all of it. Telling my partner might make Arlie feel weird towards me, or made us awkward together.

There was a part of me that thought he wouldn't mind at all. Hell, maybe he'd even offer to kiss me and help me figure it out. It was not an entirely awful thought, but I didn't want to make our partnership complicated and strained, and I didn't want to use him to experiment. Because realistically, there was no good outcome to that imagined kiss, was there? Sure, I could like it—and be sort of making him cheat, even if neither of us planned it that way. Mason didn't deserve that, even if things were still very new.

And what if I felt neutral about it? That would be sort of insulting. What if I felt completely grossed out and had to try to hide my disgust? That would be really hurtful, because Arlie wasn't disgusting, and I didn't want to hurt him by being grossed out.

Anyway, he wasn't going to offer that, and if he did, I wouldn't take him up on it. But I still played the scenario out each way multiple times in my head. Each time, I came to the decision that it was just best not to tell him anything, at least not yet.

He wasn't dumb. He wouldn't do anything to jeopardize his relationship, not when he'd just gotten started. And he wouldn't do anything to make our partnership awkward. I wasn't going to, either.

#

"You okay, Cole?"askedArlie as he pulled into his usual parking spot at the townhouse.

We sat for a minute as I tried to pull myself out of my phone. I'd been vegging out again.

"Hm?" I tried to sound vague. It wasn't tough.

"You're on those forums again. And you've been...sad, I guess? Like in your head a lot?"

"Well, you know me." With effort, I put my phone away.