Another long pause, long enough that I check to see if the message is done. It isn't.
“Anyway, take care of yourself. Have fun with Avery. Let your mom take care of you. I'll see you in a few days.”
And with that, the message comes to an end, leaving me alone again in business class.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
ETHAN
After two weeksof subpar hockey and no Jamie, it's finally time to pack for Las Vegas. At this point, I couldn't care less about the game. It's tempting to fake an injury and stay here to finally take the time to talk to Jamie. Of course, Jamie's not even staying – in fact, his flight to California already left this morning.
Of course, I'd only remembered thisafterI called him, sitting there listening to the ringing of his phone like an idiot. When the voicemail had started, I'd been shocked to hear his voice, and desperate to hear more. Unfortunately, that led to me actuallyleavinga voicemail, something I'd talked myself out of countless times before. But this time, knowing he wasn't even in the same city as me, the truth had spilled out – how much I miss him, how grateful I've been to have him in my life.
Ever since my dinner with Alexei, I can't help but think about his words. Have I truly become such a liar? I've always been private, but truly, this year something has changed. Hell, I spent the first two weeks of the season being downright homophobic – what thehell was that? Since when am I a willing part of the machine that's kept me down all these years?
I think back to the not-quite-breakup fight that Jamie and I had. To the threat to out myself on Instagram. He was right to stop me – I wasn't in the right place to make a decision like that. But that begs the question – if I want to do it, or at leastconsiderit, what do I need to do tobein the right place.
I throw a few more outfits in my bag, including a couple of the ones that Jamie picked out for me. Then I head to the living room, to the couch where Jamie and I curled up that day before the article dropped, before I messed everything up. I feel closer to him here, wrapping myself in a blanket that I fool myself into believing still smells like him.
Taking a deep breath, I pull out my phone and call Jack. For a moment, I think it will go through to his voicemail, but he eventually picks up on the third ring.
“Ethan? How are you, kid?”
Jack sounds...confused? Worried?
“Hey, Jack. Do you, uh, have a couple minutes to discuss something?”
Over the past twenty years, I've always thought of coming out as something that I would do once. Or, more accurately, something that wouldhappento me once. It turns out that isn't true – instead I find myself having to do it over and over, but it still doesn't seem to come easily.
“Sure, anything for you. I hope you're not trying to get out of the All Star Game?”
He knows me too well.
“No, I know I'm stuck with that. I, uh, wanted to talk about that article that came out last month? About me and Carter?”
He pauses on the other end of the line.
“What about it?”
At least he's not pretending not to know what I'm talking about.
“You, uh, mentioned afterward that you wanted to know whatdirection I wanted to go with it. And I know I gave you an answer and it's probably too late to change that, but I was wondering what some of the...other options might have been.”
I hear movement on the other end of the line, including the clink of glass on glass.
“Give me a second, kid. I might need a drink for this conversation.”
He's not wrong. I think of the whiskey in my own bar cabinet, but instead pull the blanket tighter around me, breathing in Jamie's aftershave.
“Well, there's the approach that you chose – not sure what they're implying, we have a close professional relationship, etc.”
Choseis such a strong word. I panicked my way into that response more than anything.
“Ok, what else.”
“Well, I guess that depends on the truth and how much of the truth you wanted to share.”
It all comes down to that, doesn't it?The truth.
