Would it be fair to Rus or Kaiden to string along their relationship? Was it a relationship if he couldn’t truly commit?
Dylan lost himself in his thoughts, aimlessly cleaning the kitchen and touching up the same areas again and again in his little daze. His phone pinged, alerting him that the group chat had a new message.
Kaiden followed it up with some GIFs of guys throwing money around.
Dylan gave a weak smile, finding Kaiden’s enthusiasm for working on one of the worst holidays endearing. If only Dylan had the strength to jump into the conversation. Instead, he just read through their messages, dwelling on his recent conversation with Jasmine.
Of course, Kaiden could connect with hateful family members, people who never truly accepted him. It was something that drew Dylan to Kaiden. Not that his struggle was uncommon from most queer people, it was how he handled it. Most of the time, Kaiden ignored his family’s barbs, offered them love and support and compassion despite them lacking much of any for him.
Kaiden’s kindness always drew him in. An enviable trait in some instances.
Dylan’s chest heated, thinking about his own family’s disgust with his sexuality, a family that made it clear at thirteen that if he stayed there, he’d be straight or in the ground. Memories of his past clawed from the shadows of his mind, and Dylan worked to push them back down. Dylan didn’t dwell on his past, on a family that hated him, on a life he abandoned when he was far too young to make such decisions. Those memories had gone from festering nightmares to faded scars in the back of his mind. No, these fleeting recollections rarely came, but damn if they didn’t hit him when he was already down.
Truthfully, Dylan didn’t ponder on his family much at all anymore. They rarely haunted him after working through the guilt and hate and confusion. The fact was that he only really considered Jasmine to be family. Jasmine and every kid that passed through the halls of Dorothy’s Home.
That was part of what made potential changes so difficult. He’d lived with Jasmine since he was fifteen years old. He’d worked toward making Dorothy’s Home a success for almost a decade. It was hard to imagine life moving on to something else.
Dylan shook away the thoughts and returned to reading the group chat, hoping to work up the nerve to respond to anything. He scrolled up, having missed a bit of the chat while lost in his past.
Rus sent a semi-blurry photo of his family members lining a table. Easily ten people, and it appeared that half the table might be missing. He used the edit feature on his phone to circle one member in red. This person scowled from all the way at the other side of the table at Rus.
The texting conversation quickly devolved into silly jokes and random thoughts.
Dylan wanted to be as casual about their relationship again. But now that he had questions about things he’d never considered, the long term, the possibility of change, such drastic change, Dylan didn’t know what to do with himself.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Itwas incredibly difficult working sixty-plus hours a week, but Kaiden was a few short weeks away from having basic furnishings and a nice little nest egg. Well, an emergency fund that’d cover him for an unforeseen expense. Basically, he liked to keep two grand in his savings at all times, and his move had depleted everything and then some.
Between the calls Kaiden made to caterers for Alison’s next event, he let his fingers wander to the group chat. Rus seemed very active, but Dylan was quiet. Quieter than usual, too. But Kaiden ignored it, consumed by the arrangements of the upcoming winter showcase. There were some new artists she planned to unveil. Once upon a time, Kaiden dreamed of being one of Alison’s newly discovered gems. He’d fantasize about Alison peering over his shoulder one day while he was sketching, find herself mesmerized by his natural talents, and immediately demand he partake in one of her galleries.
Of course, that daydream quickly dwindled away since Kaiden stopped making time for his artwork. Although, sincehe had a bit of freedom, maybe he could pick up old passions again. Especially considering he didn’t have to contend with his family for space or privacy or a moment to think when he got home. Two jobs definitely left him beat, but there was a certain peace that came with passing out when he got home with zero obligations to cook for others, clean up someone else’s mess, or babysit his sister’s children.
“Where the hell have you been?” Sandra materialized at the front door like some vile specter who’d sensed his avoidance.
“Fuck,” Kaiden muttered.
He’d anticipated his family realizing he moved without a word, but he’d braced himself for his mother’s guilt trips, not his sister’s outbursts.
“You realize by dodging Mom and Dad, you’re screwing everyone over, including yourself.” Sandra beelined through the empty gallery.
“Huh?”
“It’s the fourth. Rent is due on the first,” Sandra snapped.
Technically, rent had a grace period until the fifth, which was probably why she’d tracked Kaiden down today.
“It’s bad enough I had to scrape my tips together for the internet,” Sandra continued her tirade. “Do you realize how inconsiderate that is?”
Yes, Kaiden knew exactly how exhausting it was covering the utilities or suffering without them. Not that internet was essential, but honestly, since they lived in a dead zone and every nearby neighbor locked their Wi-Fi, a connection to the online world seemed rather vital most days.
As Sandra continued spewing cruel comments, jabs at Kaiden’s selfish behavior, and insults about his laziness, herealized something. Somewhere between professing his lack of effort to help around the house and demanding he pay his fair share, it dawned on Kaiden that his family hadn’t noticed he moved out.
They must’ve just assumed he was staying at friends’ places lately. It wasn’t outside the norm, especially after his sister’s opinion on his assault. He hid at Rus’ apartment most days. But even then, he still often came home late in the night just to sleep.
Had they really not noticed his absence? His missing belongings? Technically, he did leave behind some of his furnishings for his nephews, but still. All his most important possessions were gone. Had his move really gone so unnoticed?
“You can get the fuck out right now.” Alison stood overhead, her presence radiating authority.
