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She isn’t making a big deal out of it. Instead, she keeps talking as if it’s the most trivial thing in the world. The relief almost sweeps me off my feet.

“How does it feel to say it?” she asks me.

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “Not many people know. My therapist, my manager, Parker, you.”

Now she pushes me away and sizes me up from head to toe. “Okay. It makes sense that Parker knows; that way he can plan better. And you have a therapist. Good for you.” She smiles. “I’m the fourth person you’ve told this to. I’m truly honored. But promise me that when you drive home, you won’t be imagining all kinds of horror scenarios. Call me if you think you shouldn’t have told me. You’re absolutely safe with me. You have my number, right?”

I nod. “I can’t promise I won’t freak out. But right now, all is good.”

“That’s the first step.” She opens her front door. “The two of us are going to rock this dating thing.”

With a peck on the cheek, she sees me off into the limo, which takes me all the way to my place on the other side of the city.

To my empty apartment, where memories of Parker are waiting for me. I have to change the sheets.

As I stand in front of my bed, wondering why everything here feels so much lonelier and yet lighter than it did yesterday, my phone vibrates in my pocket.

A message from Valentina.

Thanks for the great evening. I can’t wait to see you again.

Baby steps. I have someone on my side.

This gives me courage, because I open my shadow social media account and go to Parker’s profile.

He blocked me right away eight years ago, and when Derek set up an official hockey account for me, Parker blocked that one too. That left me with no way to find out anything about him. Until I created my anonymous account, which I’ve been using for years to stalk Parker’s photos and posts. Does blocking me mean he doesn’t want me to be a part of his life? Of course it does. That’s why I only dared to peek at his account 00Park00, when my withdrawal symptoms got too bad. The year I was with Lewis, I didn’t check it once. Well, I did. Once. But today is different. This strange mix of hope, exhaustion, and helplessness is driving me to 00Park00 today. He posted a new photo. A flower blooming on a windowsill. This post, too, gives no indication whatsoever that he’s in New York. Raindrops, reflections of sunlight, flowers, tree leaves, poems, thoughts, proverbs. That’s all he ever shares. And nothing that would give any clue as to his whereabouts. Even the new post reassures me in a strange way. I would never share that myself, but the picture is an invitation to reflect.

I scroll through his feed. Nothing suggests that he deals with celebrities day in and day out. No pictures with stars and starlets. At most, a selfie of himself wrinkling his nose because the sun is shining in his face.

He’s incredibly beautiful. The fact that I felt his skin beneath my fingers today hasn’t brought me any closure, as it seems to have for Parker. The awareness of how much everything inside me longs for him keeps me awake for hours.

Chapter 6 – Parker

With my head bent low over the tablet, I review the photos from Valentina and Evan’s first date.

The result is flawless.

The photos are atmospheric. The candlelight in the trattoria softens the contours of the two of them, even with our people’s high-resolution cameras.

They’re even kissing. Seeing this doesn’t cause the slightest twinge in my stomach. I keep scrolling. Another kiss. This time from a slightly wider angle, almost over Valentina’s shoulder, which gives a clear view of Evan’s face. His eyes are closed, as if he’s giving himself completely over to the touch of his new girlfriend.

There’s nothing to suggest that only a few hours earlier he was with a man. With me . . .

Nope, I'd better not even think about going there.

The harmony between the two is palpable in the photos. Everything is as it should be. Perfect.

I can be proud of myself. My work is paying off, and the two of them are likely more than satisfied with today’s press releases.

Not a word about an eating disorder or any kind of queer sexual orientation. Instead, pictures of delicious food, a romantic atmosphere, and a heap of speculation.

“What’s with the long face?” I jerk my head up at the sound of Ricky’s voice. He’s standing in my doorway, observing me with doubt. “Difficult new client?”

“No, of course not. Everything’s going great. This—” I wave my hand a short distance in front of my face. “—is how I express deep concentration. I know, it’s not something you’re used to.”

Carly steps up beside him. “What’s up? Why are we all looking gloomy?”

I stand up and reach for my cup, which is sitting on the table. “I don’t look gloomy. I look focused, and now I’m going to get myself a coffee. Should I grab one for each of you too?”