by Alexa Land
“Is it okay if we eat in here?” Jessie asked. “Alastair’s apartment is gorgeous, and we don’t want to mess anything up.”
I murmured, “It’s fine,” as I thought back to all the meals Alastair and I had shared on that cream-colored leather sofa. I remembered a moment in particular from the week before, when Alastair had been laughing about something as he fed me a huge spoonful of rocky road ice cream. His eyes had been full of light, and he’d looked so beautiful that I’d taken the spoon from his hand and kissed him, tasting the chocolate on his lips. That memory made me miss him so damn bad that my chest literally ached.
*****
About an hour later, I was staring unseeingly at the Lion King, and Izzy was curled up on my lap. The little girl had said, “You look like you need a hug, Uncle Sawyer,” and climbed on me about five minutes into the movie, and then she’d stayed there. It was nice, actually. She was warm and smelled like shampoo and the popcorn she was snacking on.
She was also far more attuned to what was happening that evening than I’d realized. When my phone rang, Izzy immediately rolled off me and exclaimed, “I hope that’s your boyfriend so you don’t have to be sad anymore!”
When I saw Alastair’s name on the screen, I jumped up and mumbled, “I’ll be right back.”
I answered as I rushed to the bedroom, and Alastair whispered, “It’s so good to hear your voice, Sawyer.”
He was obviously upset, and I asked, “Is your dad okay?”
“He’s doing well, all things considered. They moved him out of the ICU. The doctor even had him get up and walk already, just for a minute, but still. I couldn’t believe they did that so quickly after open heart surgery.”
“Are you okay?”
“No,” he admitted, so quietly I almost didn’t hear him.
“Let’s switch to video chat. I need to see your face.”
He did as I asked. Alastair was so pale, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He touched the screen on his phone, and a tear tumbled down his cheek as he whispered, “Oh God, look at you. My sweet, beautiful Sawyer.”
There was so much heartbreak in his words that I said, “You’re not coming back, are you?” I was pretty sure I already knew the answer, but it still hurt like hell when he shook his head.
“I wanted to. God I wanted to. I needed so much more time with you! I didn’t even get to say goodbye, not to you, or my friends, or the city.” He took a shaky breath and said, “My father has to retire. Even though the surgeon told him he could go back to work in a couple months, my mother and grandmother won’t let him. His stress level is always through the roof, and it’s going to kill him, either through his heart disease or some other way. Our family doctor said he didn’t expect my father to live another five years if he didn’t make immediate, major changes. You see why I have to stay, don’t you, Sawyer?” All I could do was nod, because I didn’t trust my voice, not with all the emotions flooding me.
After a moment, Alastair said, “I’m supposed to begin on Monday. My father’s plan was always to start me at an intern level and train me in every aspect of the business over the next ten years. He was going to retire at sixty-five and hand over control of Penelegion Enterprises. I would have been thirty-one at that point. No one’s dumb enough to think I can just be thrown in the deep end and run the company, of course. But forget about that nice, slow, easing in process. I’m going to have my work cut out for me, and there’s so much riding on this!” He paused before saying, “And yet, all I can think about is you, Sawyer. I miss you so much. God, I miss you. I feel like I left a huge part of me back in California.”
“Just say the word, and I’ll be on the next plane to London. I know you can’t tell your family about me because it’d upset your father, and that’s the last thing he needs right now. But they don’t have to know! I’ll get a little apartment somewhere close by, and we can be together whenever you can sneak away. I know you’ll be busy, but even if it’s just a few minutes here and there, at least it’ll be something!”
“But that’s exactly what Tracy did, he treated you like his dirty little secret! How can I do that to you, especially knowing how much it hurt you in the past?”
“I don’t care! I’ll do whatever it takes to be with you.”
“But I do,” he said softly. “You deserve so much better. You deserve the world, Sawyer.”
“I can’t say goodbye to you. I won’t!”
“I won’t do that either. We’ll figure something out. At the very least, I can come to San Francisco a few times a year to see you. I’m not going to prison, even if that’s what it feels like. I’ll get time off now and then.” He tried to sound hopeful, but he looked devastated.
I took a deep breath and struggled to keep my expression neutral. The thought of only seeing Alastair a handful of times a year was heart-wrenching. But the last thing he needed was me putting pressure on him and making demands on his time, not when it must already feel like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. After a moment, I nodded. I even attempted a smile and hoped it at least sort of looked convincing.
Then I asked, “Have you gotten any sleep? It’s around four a.m. there.”
“I tried, but my mind keeps racing.”
“Please try again.”
“I will. I’ll call you in a few hours, alright?” When I nodded, he said, “Please take care of yourself, Sawyer. And take care of Gabriel and Elijah, too. They’re both so vulnerable, and I worry about them.”
“Count on it.”
“Speaking of Elijah, I asked Jessie’s brother Jed to move into my house in the South Bay as his roommate. Elijah’s been settling in, but I hate the thought of him rattling around all alone down there. Will you follow up with Jessie? Maybe he can encourage his brother to take me up on my offer.”
“I will. Jessie’s here right now actually, along with Kai and Izzy.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize you had company. I’m sorry I’ve kept you.”
“Don’t apologize. You’re always more important than anything, Allie.”
He smiled at the nickname, then said, “I just realized it’s Friday night there, I’d lost track of the days. Why aren’t you at work? You’re not ill, are you?”
“No. I’m just…thinking that isn’t the job for me after all.”
“I can put you on the payroll with the firehouse renovation. You’ve been putting in so much time there, and you don’t have to do all that hard work for free.”
“I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me, financially or otherwise.”
He smiled, despite the sadness in his eyes. “I’ll always worry, Sawyer. That’s just what I do with the people I care about.”
“Me too, and my biggest worry right now is that you’re going to collapse from exhaustion. Please go to bed, Alastair.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to you soon.” He kissed his fingertips and pressed them to the screen.
After we disconnected, I sat there for a few minutes, looking around at that generic designer bedroom and realizing how little of Alastair was reflected in it. Maybe he’d never bothered to personalize it because he always knew it was temporary. His real home had always been in the UK.
Then I thought of something and opened the nightstand drawer. His leather-bound journal had been forgotten in his rush to the airport. I took it out and turned it over in my hands. No way would I read it and violate his privacy. But I hugged it to my chest for a few moments before putting it on the bedside table. I’d have to send it to him, but not just yet. Even though plenty of clothes and other everyday items had been left behind, they didn’t hold the same meaning as that journal. It had been a part of him, and it was one of the few truly personal things I had left.
I curled up on the bed, put my head on Alastair’s pillow, and breathed in his clean scent. That was another thing I had to hold on to. The housekeeper had shown up earlier that day, and I’d probably scared the poor woman when I saw her reaching for the sheets and yelled a
t her to stop. I told her I’d be washing the linens myself from that point forward, and asked her to please leave them alone. She smiled and nodded, but clearly thought she was dealing with a crazy person.
And maybe she was. My grief had left me a desperate shell of a man, one who’d panicked at the prospect of a washed pillowcase. But I couldn’t stand the thought of losing even one more piece of him.
Eventually though, his scent would fade from that pillowcase. Before too long, I’d have to mail him his journal, since he wrote in it every day and must be missing it. I’d always thought I was a person who didn’t assign much value to material objects, but I found myself desperate for something tangible, some part of him to take comfort in and to let me keep reliving the best month of my life with the most wonderful man I’d ever known.
It just hadn’t been enough time! I needed more. So much more, not just vague promises of a few visits a year. How would I get through all those days and weeks and months in between? Before I’d met him, I’d barely been living. I couldn’t go back to that. I needed Alastair. He was absolutely everything, and life without him felt pointless.
Chapter Twelve
The next week passed slowly. I spent my time working out like a man possessed, followed by twelve-hour shifts on the firehouse project. My remaining time was filled with my two online classes. It had been tempting to drop them after Alastair left because it was tough to concentrate, but my need to keep busy ultimately won out. Whenever I was idle, missing Alastair swallowed me whole.
One good thing that week was getting to see Alastair’s vision for the youth shelter coming together. The building had been in pretty good shape overall, and before long, renovations would be complete. Then it was just a question of waiting on paperwork that had to be approved by various government agencies before it could open its doors.
Alastair called me every day, and I told him all about the progress being made on the building and what was going on with our friends. I tried to keep it positive, so I left out the fact that I was unraveling without him. He was already under enough stress without worrying about me. His first week on the job had been spent getting a crash course in the company’s finances from his uncle, who was chief financial officer. Alastair had summed up the week as, “Overwhelming.”
When he called me on Saturday, he was in the office, even though it was eight p.m. his time. Despite sounding discouraged and more exhausted than ever, he said he planned to work all weekend. We chatted for a few minutes, and after we disconnected, I sighed and scrubbed my hands over my face. It was depressing to know he was miserable, and that I was helpless to do anything about it.
Sometime later, as I sat in the living room with my laptop, staring unseeingly at a lesson for my online Psychology class, the intercom buzzer sounded. I headed to the panel beside the door, pushed a button and called, “Hello?”
A deep voice said, “I, uh, I’m looking for Sawyer MacNeil. This is his father. I’m not sure if I got the right place.”
“Hey Dad, I’ll buzz you in. Take the elevator to the top floor.”
I hit another button on the panel and turned to Gabriel. He was sitting by the window with a book on his lap and his hair in hot rollers, and he asked, “What do you think he wants?”
“No clue.”
My friend raised an eyebrow, then got up and said, “I’ll be in my room so you two can have some privacy. Good luck with whatever that’s about.”
I pulled on a sweatshirt to cover the camisole I’d been wearing with my jeans, then opened the door and stuck my head into the hallway. A few moments later, the elevator doors slid open, and my father wandered out, holding a small box and looking all around. He walked right past me without saying hello, and once he took in the apartment, he turned to me and asked, “Is there something you need to tell me?”
“Like what?”
“How are you paying for an apartment this nice? The rent must be thousands of dollars a month. I can’t think of many jobs that pay that well and are moral or legal.”
I resisted the urge to sigh and said, “The apartment belongs to my boyfriend.”
“What does he do to afford a place like this?”
“Nothing illegal or immoral.”
He waited for an explanation, and when none was forthcoming, he knit his brows. After a moment, he held out the box to me and said, “This came for you. I thought maybe it was important.”
I turned the box over and looked at an unfamiliar return address in Germany. As I peeled back the packing tape, I told my dad, “Thanks for bringing it to me. Next time, just call and I’ll come by.”
He watched curiously as I opened the package and said, “I wanted to check on you anyway.”
“Why? Were you worried about me?” He just shrugged. God forbid he’d actually admit that. I got the box open and unfurled a cocoon of bubble wrap, then murmured, “Shit, I forgot all about this. I ordered it weeks ago.”
I held up a little red convertible that I’d bought on an online auction site and sighed, and my dad asked, “Why the hell did you buy a toy car?”
“It was a gift for my boyfriend. He used to collect them when he was a kid, and I thought he might like it.”
“Did they send the wrong one or something?”
“No. It’s absolutely perfect.”
“So, why are you upset?”
“Because I would have loved seeing Alastair’s face when he opened this present. I’ll send it to him, and I hope it makes him happy, but it would have been great to do this in person.”
My father looked perplexed. “You’re living in his apartment. What am I missing?”
“He moved to London last week. His dad had a heart attack and can’t go back to work, so my boyfriend had to take over the family business a lot sooner than planned.”
“So, what the hell are you doing here?”
“What do you mean?”
“You obviously care about this guy. Why’d you stay behind when he moved back to England?”
“It’s complicated.”
My dad thought about that for a minute, then said, “If this guy means something to you, and it seems like he does, then you need to go after him. Long distance relationships usually don’t stand a chance.”
I glanced at my father as I wrapped the little convertible in bubble wrap and returned it to the box. “It’s weird, you giving me relationship advice. Until recently, I was afraid to even bring up the fact that I’m gay. Now you’re trying to encourage me to follow a guy to the UK.”
“Like I told you, I’ve had a long time to come to terms with the fact that you’re gay. Eventually, I realized a relationship’s a relationship. At their core, they’re all about two people trying to work it out. So, my advice is the same, regardless of whether it’s a girl or guy you’re pining for: if you think you two have a future together, go after them. I let a fantastic woman slip through my fingers by not showing her how much she meant to me. Don’t make the same mistake I did.”
“Sherry really is terrific. I hope that’s who you’re talking about.”
“It is, but she thinks I’m a pain in the ass.”
I grinned a little and said, “She’s not wrong, Dad. But she also cares about you. I asked her to look out for you when I was moving last week, and she told me she always does that anyway.”
“She actually said that?”
“Yup. That means there’s still something there. Let her know how you feel before it’s too late! She’s been going on dates, and sooner or later she’ll meet someone else. Once that happens, it’s all over. But for now, you still have a chance to make things right.”
“I don’t know….”
“You’re telling me to fly to the UK and take a chance. Take one, too. All you have to do is knock on the door that’s right beside yours.”
“And then what?”
“Talk to her, and listen to what she has to say. And try like hell not to argue. Your problem is that you always have to be right. That’s got to b
e a pretty hollow victory, if it means ending up alone.”
My father thought about that before saying, “I guess I could give it a shot. Hell, I probably can’t mess it up more than it already is. Plus, no matter what comes of it, it’d be good to bury the hatchet with Sherry. Even if she wants nothing to do with me, at least we could coexist a little more peacefully.”
“Good. So, do you want to sit down? I could make us some coffee.”
It was a little disappointing but not particularly surprising when he said, “Nah, I’d better go. Good luck, Sawyer.”
“Good luck too, Dad.”
When Gabriel ventured out of his room a few minutes later, I was sitting on the couch, deep in thought. He asked, “What did your dad want?”
“To bring me a package that had been delivered to the house, and to check on me. I think it was out of curiosity more than concern.”
“He didn’t stay long.”
“No. He’s never been one for drawn-out conversations. That was pretty good for him, though, because we actually talked about stuff that mattered, instead of, like, sports or the weather.”
“What’d you talk about?”
“He thinks I should go after Alastair. What do you think?”
Gabriel sat beside me, and as he began unwinding the curlers and lining them up on the coffee table, he said, “As someone who’s had a front-row seat to your relationship, I don’t know how you two can stand to be apart. But then, Alastair asked you to stay here. So the question is, do you respect his wishes, or do you go anyway, because you think it’s what you both need? I don’t know him well enough to be able to predict how that would go over. He’s totally stressed out right now, so maybe the question is, would you going to London add to his stress level, or help alleviate it?”
“I wish I knew.” I got up and said, “I’m going to go out for a while and think this through. Good luck at work tonight.”
“Thanks.” He got up too and shook out his cascading, dark curls. “Did you call in sick again?”