Chance turned away and gazed out at the ocean.
“Chance?” Darren reached for him, but he pulled away.
“Our time is up. I wish… Hell, I wish a lot of things were different, but they aren’t, so—”
“Maybe they could be.”
“Are you saying you think this will get better, that I’ll fit in better with your crowd at parties, that you’ll come over for dinner in my tiny apartment, that you won’t be mad when I’m honest with your brother or someone else?”
“I don’t know.” And he didn’t. He wanted those things to be true, but Chance was right—they’d both known from the beginning that their relationship wasn’t likely to last. That was why they’d cocooned themselves; then he’d gone and ruined it.
Chance sighed. “I need you to know. I can’t do uncertainty anymore.”
“But you agreed—”
“I did, but then you invited me to your party. You involved me in your work. I can’t be your dressed-up date and be a secret.”
Darren shook his head. “You’re not a secret.”
“Except from your brother.”
Darren forced himself to breathe for a moment so he could answer calmly. “I just wanted to tell him myself.”
“When were you going to do that?”
“God, Chance. I don’t know. Maybe after you and I talked about it.”
Chance’s eyes shone with tears, and Darren knew if Chance started to cry, he would too.
“Dare, do you really think this is going to work? Do you think we can be a couple out there”—he gestured out the window—“in the real world of friends, family, and colleagues who will judge us?”
Chance using that nickname made his breath catch. He wasn’t ever letting anyone call him that again, not even Manny. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hand against his forehead. He wanted to say yes, but he couldn’t.
“Neither do I.”
“Chance, please.”
“I’m going to go now.”
Darren followed him into the foyer. “What if we just took some time to think? We don’t have to end this completely. I’m not ready to end it.”
“I can’t do that,” Chance said. “I can’t keep hoping.”
Darren nodded. “Okay, but if you change your mind, call me.”
“I will.”
But Darren knew he wouldn’t, just like Chance had known Darren wouldn’t call after their plane ride.
***
Chance didn’t remember the drive back to his apartment, which probably meant he was damn lucky to have made it safely. Marianne and Joon were gone. He went straight to his room and curled up on his bed.
Joon found him there several hours later. “Things didn’t go well?”
“No.”
Joon sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed his back. “Did you talk to him?”
“Yes.”
“Did you listen?”
Chance didn’t respond.
“Pizza for dinner?”
Chance nodded. “And brownies.”
“Okay. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”
Chance pulled the covers over his head when Joon left, thankful Joon hadn’t told him how stupid he was. He’d cried so much that afternoon that his eyes burned and he ached all over. The longer he lay there, the more certain he became that he’d just thrown away his best chance at happiness.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Uncle Darren, are you still seeing that hottie you brought to the donor celebration?”
Darren sure as hell wished he was. For the last three weeks, he’d thought about Chance every time he walked Roger, every shower he took, every time he enjoyed his bedroom view or the softness of his sheets. “I’m afraid not.”
Caitlin sighed. “I’m sorry. What happened?”
Was he really going to talk about his love life with his twenty-one-year-old niece? They were having what had become their weekly lunch, but usually it was her personal life they picked apart, not his.
“Did he dump you?”
“No! Yes. Not exactly.”
She raised her brows.
Apparently, he was going to talk about it. “He decided we couldn’t last because of our age difference, and because he grew up on a small ranch in Texas and with normal, loving parents.”
“Instead of in California with fucked-up parents more interested in making even more money than caring about their kids?”
“Yes, exactly.”
She made a circling motion with her hand. “And?”
“And what? He said we weren’t going to last, so he gave up.”
“What did you do?” Caitlin studied him as she took a sip of wine.
“Do? I didn’t…”
She just sat there, silently judging him.
“Have you considered training to be an interrogator?”
Caitlin still said nothing. Damn, she was good. He’d negotiated with some of the best attorneys in the country, and she was wearing him down with a look and a few moments of silence.
“Your father showed up at my house the day after the party.”
She grimaced. “Did your boyfriend have to talk to him?”
“Mitch arrived early, and Chance didn’t know he was coming. He opened the door, and Mitch was…his usual self. And I just froze like an idiot instead of kicking him out or telling him clearly that I wouldn’t tolerate him saying a word against Chance.”
Caitlin covered his hand with hers. “Dad is really good at that. It’s part of why we don’t talk anymore.”
“Did he try to intimidate you, because—”
“I can take care of myself.”
Darren nodded. She could, but he didn’t want her to ever feel alone. “You don’t have to see him again if you don’t want to.”
“I know. Thank you.” She took another sip of wine. “So Chance was angry you didn’t tell Dad to go fuck himself?”
Darren almost corrected her language, but he caught himself in time. “Yes, but I think it’s more of a last-straw kind of thing. He’d already talked himself out of seeing me again after the party.”
“But he was so charming. Everyone loved him.”
“We know that, but he thinks most people were disappointed—or flat-out disgusted—to see me with a man like him.”
“I’m sure some were, but they’re either jealous or bitter, like Mrs. Smithfork.”
“I think she’s lonely. I wish someone could find a way to break through all the ice around her.”
Caitlin smiled. “Were you that sweet to Chance?”
Heat rushed to Darren’s face, and he shrugged.
“Have you called him?”
Darren tossed back the last of his bourbon before answering. “He knows he can call me if he decides he wants to try again.”
“Call him,” Caitlin insisted.
“No, I don’t want to push him and—”
Darren’s phone interrupted them. It was his mother calling. He still hadn’t gone to see her. He had enough grief missing Chance every minute, so he’d put off having to listen to the litany of complaints she gave him every time he visited.
He let the call go to voice mail. He’d call her back soon.
A few seconds later she called again. His mother was often persistent, but not like this.
“I’m sorry,” he said to Caitlin. “I’d better answer.”
She waved toward his phone. “Go ahead.”
“Hello.”
“Mr. Walsh. It’s Martina.” Martina had been his mother’s housekeeper since his father left, and she’d effectively been Darren’s nanny as well.
“Is something wrong?” Darren’s pulse sped up. Martina wouldn’t be calling otherwise.
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but I couldn’t wake your mother after her afternoon nap.”
“You couldn’t…” Darren’s voice gave out. He couldn’t have heard right.
“I called the doctor,” Martina said. “He thinks it was a s
troke.”
His mother was dead. He could’ve gone to see her anytime. He could’ve agreed for her to be in assisted living. If he had—
“Darren, are you all right?” Martina asked.
“I… Yes. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Where… Where is she now?”
“At the hospital. I wanted you to have a chance to see her before your brother, so I haven’t called him. Maybe that was wrong of me, but—”
“No. Thank you, Martina. I’ll let him know after I get there.”
Darren was about to hang up when he realized he hadn’t asked Martina how she was doing. She’d worked for his family for thirty years.
“Are you doing all right? Do you need anything?”
“Thank you. I’m holding up. I’ll have a nice dinner for you if you come to the house.”
“You’re amazing. Thank you for everything.”
“You drive carefully, you hear me?” She used the tone that always worked on him when he was a kid. She’d been the one to protect him when Mitch was at his worst, and she’d always saved treats for him. Maybe he could offer her a position in San Diego. He didn’t need a full-time housekeeper, but he bet she would do wonderful work for the foundation. He would talk to her later; one way or another, he would make sure her future was comfortable. Something he could no longer do for his mother.
“Darren?”
Caitlin’s voice shocked him. He’d forgotten where he was.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s my mother. She passed away this afternoon.”
Caitlin’s eyes went wide. “What?”
“She took a nap, and Martina tried to wake her, but she was gone. Stroke. That’s what the doctor thinks.”
“Oh no.” She squeezed Darren’s hand. “I’m so sorry.”
Darren wasn’t sure what to say. His mother hadn’t been the grandmotherly type, and Caitlin’s mom had only lived with his brother for a few months after she was born, so Caitlin had never been close to her.
“Are you okay?” Caitlin asked. “I can call my mom. She’ll help you.”
Darren shook his head, but he’d barely registered her words. “I kept saying I’d visit. She’d called a few times. Now I… I guess I won’t be doing that.”
“Please let me know what I can do.”
“Can you look after Roger and call the vet for me to see if he can board there? I need to leave so I can…see her and then call Mitch.”
She nodded. “Of course. Don’t worry about Roger. I know exactly what to do.”
“Thank you.” Darren pushed back his chair and started to stand. Then he realized they hadn’t paid for lunch. “The check.”
“I’ve got it.”
Darren started to protest, but she said, “Darren, I have almost as much money as you.”
He hugged her and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”
“Keep in touch.”
“I will.” He walked out of the restaurant and then had to think for a while to remember where he’d parked. Nothing seemed real. And he wasn’t sure when it would again.
***
Darren survived making the arrangements and attending his mother’s funeral by functioning on autopilot. By the time he flew back to San Diego from LA, he was so tired, he turned his phone off and slept for fourteen hours straight. When he woke up, he decided not to turn his phone back on yet. Between Hualing and Caitlin, everything at the foundation was taken care of. He’d told his brother he needed time before he could talk about settling their mother’s estate. There wasn’t anyone else who would worry if they couldn’t get in touch with him for a while. What did that say about him? How had he reached a point where he had so very many acquaintances and so few friends? He’d spent most of his time working, and when he went out, it was just to find a hookup—until Chance.
He didn’t want to receive random calls or texts. He was tired of responding to expressions of sympathy, but by that evening, he longed for someone to talk to, someone who wouldn’t condemn his conflicted feelings about his mother. Caitlin or even her mother would listen, but they’d already helped him immensely.
He could call Chance. Even after what had happened between them, he knew Chance would be there for him. He would hold Darren and let him say whatever he wanted without judging him.
He grabbed his phone before he could talk himself out of it and placed the call. It rang and rang; then the voice mail picked up. “Chance…” Fuck. His voice was shaking. “This is Darren.” Like he wouldn’t know. “My mom died a few days ago, and I just wanted someone to talk to. I’m sorry to bother you, but you’re a good listener, and I…”
He hung up before he could embarrass himself more. Tears rolled down his face as guilt, anger, sadness, and loneliness warred inside him. The room spun, and he sank to the floor, phone sliding from his hand and clattering on the hardwood. He didn’t even bother checking to see if it was all right. He just pulled up his knees and laid his head on them.
Some time later—he wasn’t sure if it had been five minutes or an hour—Roger snuffled at his side. When Darren looked up, the dog licked his face. Instead of turning away like he usually did, he wrapped his arms around his furry friend and surrendered to being covered in drool.
“You need to go out, don’t you, boy?” he asked a few moments later.
Roger whined.
Darren didn’t want to get off the floor, but he knew breathing some fresh air and listening to the ocean would be good for him, and Roger deserved some attention.
He rose to his feet, and Roger circled around him, sliding on the floor in his excitement to hurry Darren to the door. Darren couldn’t help but smile at his goofy antics. At least he could still feel a spark of happiness. He clipped Roger’s leash to his collar, and they headed out the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Chance and Joon were still laughing as they exited the movie theater, and it felt damn good. Chance had done little smiling, much less laughing, since he’d walked out of Darren’s house. He missed Darren, his companionship as much as the heat that burned between them. And he missed Roger too.
There’d been so many times he almost called Darren to say he wanted to give them another shot, but he was scared. He didn’t want to cause either of them even more pain.
Joon put an arm around Chance’s shoulder. “That was awesome.”
Being with Darren? Did Joon read his mind? “Oh, the movie?”
“Yes, the movie. What’s wrong with you?”
“Sorry. I was… Yeah, the movie was awesomely terrible.”
“I want to see it again.”
Chance shook his head. “It wouldn’t be nearly as funny a second time.”
They’d just seen what was possibly the world’s worst action film. Chance had groaned at most of the jokes even as he’d laughed. Half the time he was simply laughing at Joon’s enthusiasm.
“Maybe not,” Joon agreed. “At least not until I forget half of it.”
“So like next week?”
Joon punched his shoulder. “Shut the fuck up.”
They were giggling so hard, they nearly ran into someone walking toward them. Then Chance’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, and lots of text notifications began popping up. The reception inside the theater was terrible, so he was just now getting all the texts he’d received in the last two hours. He scrolled through a group text with a few guys from his lab. They were making sure at least some of them would be around for the first weeks of summer. Then a voice-mail alert popped up. It was from Darren.
Chance stopped walking. It took Joon a few seconds to realize, but eventually he turned around and came back.
“What’s up? Usually I’m the one who stops to gawk at someone.”
“It’s Darren.”
“What? He texted you?”
“He called me and left a voice mail.”
Joon tucked his arm through Chance’s and tugged. “Come on. Let’s get out of the way.”
They crossed the str
eet and moved onto one of the grassy areas in the parking lot.
“Are you going to listen to it?” Joon asked.
Was he? “I don’t—”
“Yes, you are.”
Chance rolled his eyes. “Fine.”
He tapped on the message and held his phone to his ear. When he heard the anguish in Darren’s voice, his stomach roiled.
Joon was staring at him, looking more concerned than he had since they broke up. “What’s wrong?”
“Darren’s mother passed away.”
“Oh no.”
“I… I should…” Chance called him, but Darren didn’t answer, so he left a message. “It’s Chance. I was in a movie and didn’t get your call. Call me back.”
“Maybe he went to bed early and turned his phone off,” Joon suggested.
“It’s not even nine.”
Joon shrugged.
“Maybe he changed his mind and he’s ignoring me now.”
Joon frowned. “I don’t think he’d call and then do that.”
“Even if he did, I don’t want him to be alone.”
“Then go see him,” Joon said. They’d reached his car, so they got in and Joon started the engine.
“You think I should?”
“Yes. And if you’re not okay to drive, I’ll take you over there.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Joon looked like he wasn’t sure. And truthfully, Chance wasn’t either. Darren was grieving, and he’d called Chance. Chance had been the one to walk away, but Darren still reached out to him.
He tried calling Darren again as Joon drove toward their apartment. Still no answer. He sent a quick text. I’m here for you. Just call.
Joon pulled into the parking spot next to Chance’s car. “You okay?”
“Yes. I’ll be fine, and I’ll let you know how things are when I get there, okay?”
“Okay. Text me if you or Darren need anything.”
Chance hugged him and then got into his own car. He waved to Joon as he backed out of the spot and headed toward Sunset Cliffs.
***
As Darren turned onto his street after a very long walk, he couldn’t exactly say he felt better, but his head was less foggy. It had been good to concentrate on something physical and to watch Roger gambol around.
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