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“Alright, go on. I hate you though.”
“You really don’t. Text me and tell me how it goes.”
With that, the line went dead, and Oliver dropped his phone on the table. He stared at it like it might explode, or melt, or turn into a machine-version of Gabriel intent on taking revenge for everything he’d done.
But in the end, he finished his drink, took the number, and went home.
Thirty
He knew it was a bad idea to have the number in his possession and be drinking at the same time. But to his credit, Oliver was mostly sober when he sent off the text message.
Hi, this is your editor with RS Publishing. I’ve just started the preliminary work on your book and was hoping you and I could have a quick meeting about the content. I’m in the city, and was told you are as well, so is there a good time we could meet up?
He added his work email address to ensure Gabriel would know he was actually employed with RS Publishing, and not some crazed murderer who was out to get him. Though Oliver wondered if maybe he was the only person who would have strange thoughts like that.
Either way, he was halfway through his third drink when the second text came through. The idea that Gabe had contacted him—though Gabe might not have known it just yet—was enough to make him feel like his stomach was trying to crawl out of his throat.
It was similar to the moment Oliver realized he was irrevocably in love with that adorable man, and probably always would be.
Taking a heaving breath, he grabbed his phone and opened up his messages to read.
Sure. I hope it’s nothing too terrible. I’ve got early lectures at the university tomorrow, so we could meet after? There’s a restaurant right off of Powell that serves vegetarian which I’m partial to. Does that sound alright?
After that text came the address and Oliver felt his eyes go very hot. His throat constricted at the thought that this was still his Gabriel. His curly-haired, ridiculous vegetarian who was now a big-named professor and probably absurdly happy with a man who worshiped the ground he walked on.
Like he had always deserved.
Oliver sent the affirmative text back, feeling subdued. This was so wrong of him. Wrong to spring himself on Gabe like this. But maybe the book was a sign Gabriel was over Oliver. That it no longer hurt to talk about, so he could use those old feelings to bring something inspiring to the masses.
The characters in the book didn’t end up together, and maybe that’s how it should have been always. Oliver hadn’t done anything in life to earn Gabriel back. He’d shut himself away, and although he was no longer plagued by the demons of his early childhood, he hadn’t ever been able to move on.
Not completely.
It was no surprise Oliver didn’t get a wink of sleep that night, nor was it a surprise he didn’t go into work the next morning. Leo texted, but didn’t bother him, and Oliver held off sending the book back to Kristin until after the meeting.
The only thing he had to do was cancel with Will, but his new friend was amiable about it. “You wanna meet up later this week and talk about it? Because you sound really bummed.”
“I am,” Oliver admitted, staring at himself in the mirror and wishing he didn’t look so exhausted. “That book I traded Kristin for ended up being written by my ex.”
“Like the Big Ex?”
“The one who left a gaping hole where my heart should be?” Oliver asked with a bitter laugh. “Yeah, that one. I had no idea, either. How fucked up is that?”
“That sounds too wild to be a coincidence, my friend,” Will said. “You’re going to meet him, right?”
“I’m the one who invited him out, so yeah. I just need him to know that I’m not actually going to be anywhere near the content of the book so nothing will be compromised. And I dunno…that I’m sorry I fucked up so badly he had to make a book about it.”
Will chuckled. “It’ll be alright, man. Just breathe a lot, and if all else fails, stay after he takes off and get stupid drunk.”
“Sound advice,” Oliver said with a laugh. “I’ll ring you later, yeah? Or I’ll text you. We’ll reschedule.”
“Sounds good, man. Be safe.”
Oliver hung up and quickly got in the shower, praying the hot water would wash away a little of the violent emotions raging through him. He had to do this. He could do this. He was a grown man with a job, a degree, and a life now that was all his. He was no longer responsible for anyone but himself, and that was something.
He at least had something to show Gabe. Assuming Gabriel didn’t take one look at him and run the other way.
Taking his time getting dressed, he went with business casual. Black trousers and white shirtsleeves fit him well, and he combed his hair as neatly as he could with shaking hands. The shower helped him feel better, but the dark circles under his eyes were as prominent as ever. Not that it mattered. Perhaps it was his penance that he should wear them to the dinner, knowing that Gabriel would probably be looking his best.
