“What?”
I swallowed heavily. “More than once, I just kind of hoped I wouldn’t wake up in the morning so I could stop waiting around for everything to crash down around me. I was so fucking tired, and I know I handled it poorly. I know I could have done everything better, but?—”
My words were cut off when Jonah’s hands curled into my shirt, and he yanked me into his arms. “Fuck you,” he whispered against the side of my head. “Fuck you for…just…fuck you, Micah. I don’t give a shit about hockey. I don’t give a shit that you fuck everyone or no one. I do not want to live on this planet without you. And I hate that it was that bad and I didn’t even notice.”
I swallowed against a thick, heavy throat. “It’s not like I let you see it.”
“That doesn’t matter. I should have known. I should have checked my shit and made sure you felt safe to tell me this was all too much.” He let out the smallest sob, but I heard him swallow it back.
That was not where I was expecting that conversation to go, and I knew I’d have to process that later, but I got it. I knew I’d feel the same way if this conversation were reversed and Jonah told me there were moments he didn’t want to be here anymore.
It would gut me.
It would ruin me.
I let out a shaking breath and eased away from him.
“It’s not like that anymore, okay? And I take responsibility for my part in pushing everyone away. I mean, it’s not like any of us learned healthy ways to cope,” I added, and he burst into laughter because he understood exactly what I meant. “I have to unlearn a lot of shit. We all do.”
He sniffed. “Yeah.”
“But I’m getting there, and I’m feeling better, and I’m finally ready to figure out who I want to be.”
“Will that include Vanya in your life? Do you think that?—”
“Vanya is mine, and I’m his,” I interrupted before he could speak any of those words into the universe. “That will never change. He’s the one thing I got right, and I will do everything I can not to fuck that up.”
Jonah let out a small, tired laugh. “Good. I really like him.”
“And I like Alexio. I think the universe finally took pity on us.”
“Am I included in that?” came a voice from a few feet away.
I physically startled at hearing Caleb’s voice. He was the last person I expected to come after us. He’d barely said hello to me when he got in, and he’d taken a seat at the opposite end of the table when we all sat down to eat.
“In the pity?” I asked. I shifted closer to Jonah to make space for him. “Sit if you want. Right side’s open.”
The swing shivered and shook as Caleb situated himself a space away from me. He kicked his feet, getting us going again, and then he sighed. “I’ve been trying to think of a way to say sorry, but I’m not sure words are going to cover it.”
My eyebrows rose. “Okay?”
“I didn’t mean to be such a dickhead. I, ah…well.” He cleared his throat. “What I was dealing with wasn’t nearly as bad as what you had going on. But I took it out on you both. I mean, I was—Iam—pissed at Dad for being the world’s shittiest parent. Well, second to Mom, I guess. But my anger wasn’t really about all that.”
I felt Jonah stiffen next to me. “Do you want to tell us what it was?”
Caleb was quiet for a long, long moment. Then he sighed. “I’m aromantic. And I realized it sometime last year when Anya and I were having a massive fight about how I wasn’t present enough for her. She accused me of never having been in love with her. She said I just liked the idea of having someone around I was comfortable with. I realized she was right. I thought telling her that would make it better, but I think it almost broke her.”
I had no idea what to say, and by Jonah’s silence, he didn’t either.
“I took a few weeks to figure my shit out. To talk to some people—to figure out where I sat on the spectrum of it all. A bunch of people told me it wasn’t my fault—that a lot of people who were aro went through this because love and relationships and shit are so compulsory. I didn’t even consider it was possible that I couldn’t be romantic or fall in love or any of that.”
“But you can’t?”
He groaned. “I don’t think so. I think if I could have, it would have been with her. But it’s just not there, no matter how much I want it to be. And I hate myself for making her waste so many years on me. I know she’ll never forgive me for that.”
“She might,” Jonah said softly. “When she realizesthat it’s not your fault you didn’t know. You two aren’t the first people to deal with the realization that one person’s sexuality doesn’t align with the other’s.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t erase how much it hurt her,” he said. “I think hating you guys was easier than hating myself for a little while, and I have to deal with that too.”
