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Around nine, Emory tip-toed into his kitchen, which opened onto the living room, and tried to get some coffee going without making any noise. I sat up on the couch and murmured, “It’s okay, you don’t have to be quiet. I’m awake.”
He turned to me with a sympathetic expression and asked, “Did you sleep at all?”
“A couple of hours, I guess.”
“How are you doing?”
I tucked myself into a corner of the couch and pulled the cream-colored blanket up to my chin as I admitted, “I feel lost, and I really need to talk to Gabriel. Until I do, it’ll just keep feeling like my whole life is in limbo.”
“You really love him, don’t you?”
“More than anything. Everything I’ve done over the last few years has been because of him, and for him. When we were apart, I turned all my attention to building my career, so when I found him again I’d be a man he could be proud of.”
Emory murmured, “I can’t even imagine loving someone that much.”
“And I can’t imagine feeling this way about anyone but him.”
While he waited for the coffee to brew, Emory asked, “What would you have done if he’d just wanted to be friends when you found him again? Or what if you’d never found him?”
“He’s all I ever wanted, so I had to keep believing we’d find each other, and that he’d want me the same way I wanted him. Then it actually happened just the way I hoped it would, and it felt like a miracle. To be able to talk to him, and hold him, and listen to the sound of his voice, to take care of him and be taken care of by him in turn, it just—it was all I’d hoped it would be, and so much more.”
Emory’s voice was wistful when he said, “I hope I find that someday.”
“You will. I really believe that,” I told him. “You’re such a great guy, Emory. You’re kind, and smart, and cute, and sooner or later the right guy is going to come along and realize you’re what he’s been looking for all his life.”
My friend grinned at me. “I’ve never met anyone who’s as much of a hopeless romantic as you are, Riley.”
I grinned too and said, “I like to think of myself as a hopeful romantic, not hopeless.”
“In that case, you should keep believing everything’s going to work out with you and Gabriel.” I nodded in agreement, and he opened the refrigerator and told me, “I’m going to make us some breakfast. You have a big day of groveling to win back your true love ahead of you, so you’re going to need some energy.”
When I still hadn’t heard from Gabriel by mid-morning, I sent him a text. That got no reply, so I sent another. I resorted to pacing around the apartment while Emory sat on the couch, offering words of encouragement and patiently hand-beading a yellow dress he’d made for his act.
He and I also talked strategy, but we were both such novices when it came to love. We spent a solid hour weighing the pros and cons of going to talk to Gabriel versus giving him some space, and I sent three more texts. They all went unanswered.
“I don’t get why he’s not responding, even if it’s just to tell me to fuck off,” I said after a while.
“I don’t like this silent treatment,” Emory said. “I might not know much about relationships, but I do know they only work if you actually talk to each other.”
I decided to call him, but it went to voicemail. I left a message that said, “We really need to talk, Gabriel. Please call me.”
That didn’t get a response either, so I reached for my jacket and said, “That’s it, I’m going over there and doing whatever I can to get him to talk to me. I tried to be patient and give him some time, but we can’t fix this if we don’t talk it out.”
Emory walked me to the door and gave me a hug as he said, “You’ve got this, Riley. Go get your man.” I promised to keep him updated.
I took a bus across town to the high-rise apartment building, then went upstairs and knocked on the door. Gabriel had our only set of keys, but even if I’d had a set I still wouldn’t have barged in. It just didn’t seem like the right way to handle this situation.
It startled me when a very tall, muscular guy opened the door. He was barefoot and dressed in white shorts and a white top with spaghetti straps, which showed off his big arms and broad shoulders. The stranger flashed me a dazzling smile and asked, “Are you Riley?”
“Yeah, are you Sawyer?” I’d completely forgotten that he and his husband would be here.
