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“We’re not dating,” I reminded myself out loud. “He is not my boyfriend. And even if he was, we wouldn’t be exclusive.”
In order to prove the point to myself, I thought about what would happen if Chris finally decided to get together with Teo. Wouldn’t Teo jump at the chance to be with Chris? Wouldn’t he go ahead with it without sparing me a single thought?
I groaned and pulled a pillow over my face. The very image of Chris and Teo fucking made me want to throw something against the wall.
This uncertainty, this up and down of emotions was exactly what I’d hoped to avoid. You never fucking wanted this. You never wanted the boyfriend and domestic thing. Jesus, Jack.
After spending the next hour tossing and turning—arguing with myself and making the case for why I really did, in fact, want the domestic thing—I finally gave up and decided to show up at Teo’s apartment. If nothing else, maybe he’d let me play pretend boyfriend for the night and hold him while we slept.
23
Teo
I read a book one time about a teenage girl who’d lost her father in a tragic drunk-driving accident. The author had described the girl’s grief like walking through the ocean against a strong tide in loose sand. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what losing my father would be like, but I knew that losing Grandpa Banks gutted me in a way I hadn’t expected.
My own grandparents had died long ago without my ever having really known them well. Losing Grandpa Banks was the first time I’d experienced the death of a loved one, and the emotional upheaval it caused was made considerably more confusing by my feelings of not being quite family.
Gordon had always treated me like family, but Mike and Deb never had. Chris and his great-aunt Hattie had treated me like family, but none of the other aunts, uncles, and cousins had. The Banks family had so much money that I’d always felt a little bit like the poor semi-relation people didn’t talk much about. And that was fine. But it made the week after Gordon’s death very strange.
On the one hand, Chris clung to me like I was his second skin.
The minute I’d arrived at the hospital with Hattie in tow, Chris had grabbed me and held me tight, sobbing into my neck like one of us had just been released by terrorist kidnappers.
“Is he gone?” I’d asked him, assuming his breakdown was due to Gordon’s passing.
“Not yet. He wants to see Hattie. And you.” Chris had pulled back and swiped at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Sorry, Tee. I just… I think I didn’t take it seriously before. He’s always been larger than life, you know? I didn’t think… And you tried to tell me.”
I’d pulled him in for another hug. “I know. It’s hard to imagine losing someone so important.”
After Hattie had taken her turn saying goodbye, I’d snuck into Gordon’s room. Mike had been standing in the corner talking softly on his phone, and Chris’s mom had been standing by the window looking out into the spring sunshine. It had struck me at the time how odd it was to face the death of someone dear while the sun continued to shine and the world kept spinning. I’d always imagined it needed to be a dreary, dark, and rainy day when death came to take someone away, but of course I knew better. I’d worked at Wilton long enough to have seen many sweet patients pass away on days as nice as this one. And, hell… maybe it was a good thing. Maybe the sun was a symbol of optimism or something, reminding the rest of us to buck up and enjoy the life we still had.
Gordon had looked awful. His skin was mottled, and his breathing was already slowing down. I knew that after the addition of the heart disease diagnosis, he’d decided to sign a Do Not Resuscitate order in case he had another heart attack or stroke. After watching his wife go through several strokes before her death, he’d been afraid of putting his family through the same turmoil. I’d understood and respected his decision, but it had still hurt like hell to watch him dying when I knew doctors could have kept him alive longer.
But I also knew from experience that wasn’t always the right decision, and recovering from a massive stroke at his age with complicating medical factors would have been exhausting and overwhelming.
“Hi,” I’d whispered, taking his chilled hand in mine. His fingers had curled a little when I’d held it. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t with you when it happened. I hope they took good care of you.” I’d swiped tears off my face and taken a deep breath. “Thank you for raising Mike so he could have Chris so I could meet your family. Thank you for everything you’ve ever done for me. I love you.”
