As she leaves, I spot Ezra a little too easily. He’s chatting with someone, his smile so wide it might qualify as a dental ad.
Dominic narrows his eyes.
“Alright,” he says, “you’ve officially hit your quota for deep conversation. I can practically hear your inner voice screaming for the subject to be changed.”
I let out an exaggerated sigh, dramatically clutching my chest. “Thank god. Let’s talk about anything besides my tragic love life, okay? The weather, taxes, literally anything.”
Dominic laughs, holding up a finger like he’s negotiating. “Fine, just one more question.”
I roll my eyes playfully. “Ask away.”
“Your parents still coming into town soon? You’ve had that impending-doom look for days. I need to prepare for how much of a buffering you’ll require with Mommy.”
My stomach somersaults into Olympic-level gymnastics. She’salready texted me a dozen times about their upcoming drop-in; the run-up to these visits always feels like prepping for a white-glove inspection. Clean, neat, completely fake. We’ve danced this one long enough to know the steps.
“So that deep conversation quota went right out the window, huh?”
He raises his eyebrows impatiently.
“Yeah, they’re still coming,” I confirm, forcing a casual shrug. “You know the drill. They’ll tour the shop, smile at everything, and avoid any topic heavier than a feather.”
Dominic’s expression turns sympathetic. “You know they love you, right?”
I wave him off. “They love the brochure version of me,” I say. “High gloss, low resolution. The one who keeps everything neat and tidy so they don’t have to deal with their own mess.”
Dominic leans back, dramatically feigning shock. “Wait, you’re not perfect? My entire worldview just shattered.”
I snort and take a long sip of my wine. “Ha-ha. But seriously, you know them. They need me to fill the gaps. To be their golden son. The stand-in and the understudy. It’s…fucking exhausting.” The mood is starting to dip dangerously close to therapy-session territory, so I shift quickly. “Anyway, it’ll be fine. We’ll laugh, talk gardens or birds or whatever latest hobby the parentals have glommed on to, and avoid reality like winners.”
“To avoiding reality!” He clinks, studying me a moment longer. “But you don’t always have to carry this alone, you know.”
My eyes flick involuntarily toward Ezra again. He’s laughing at something his conversation partner says, carefree and uncomplicated. Maybe that’s exactly why he’s appealing right now.
I stand without even realizing it, my brain hitting the eject button from this deep dive Dominic insists on taking. Sometimes ease feels like honesty. Or just habit.
“Um, hello?” he calls after me, clearly not fooled. “Look who’s running again!”
I turn back, flashing a sheepish grin. “Tonight? Absolutely.”
Dominic rolls his eyes. “Fine, fine. Go enjoy your questionable life choices. I only allow it because I unwaveringly support getting dicked down as a coping mechanism.”
I laugh, already turning toward Ezra. “Appreciate the understanding.”
Ezra spots me. “Hey, you,” he says warmly, nodding at the door. “Ready to escape?”
“More than ready.”
He doesn’t say anything else, just leads the way, his familiarity settling the anxious knots inside of me. I follow him, wondering ifjust winging itshould be my official slogan.
But there’s still a heaviness that hangs over me. A weight I’m not quite ready to acknowledge. Not here.
Not now.
Ezra and I don’t say much, but the quiet feels full. I don’t think about what comes next…not the emptiness or anything else.
• • •
I didn’t planto sneak out of Ezra’s place before sunrise, but here we are. Slipping away quietly has apparently become my signature move. Very on-brand for someone raised to avoid confrontation like the plague.
