“Just bad news,” I say, and Caleb nods.
“You want to share?”
I shake my head. I can’t do it. Not yet. The anniversary of his mom’s death is coming up. Then Thanksgiving. Not yet. Not yet.
“Is it serious?”
I shake my head, even though it is. I feel like my heart is being ripped from my body.
The choice I have to make.
Is it even a choice?
“I…I overreacted. I’m….I’ll be fine,” I tell him, clutching at his hand and turning it to kiss that rough palm. Because I have to be fine with whatever I choose. And I don’t know if I can choose this. Not after everything I’ve been through. Can I give it all up?
Caleb’s thumbs rub over my cheeks. “Okay.”
He doesn’t sound convinced. Not that I expect him to. I’m a liar. He willneverforgive me once this is over.
My eyes start to water, and Caleb's face crumples as he pulls me into his chest and holds onto me.
I should have never let him be my roommate. Should have let him go about his life, never knowing me. It would have been simpler, better. But I was too selfish. Wanted him too much.
* * *
CALEB
“Hey, um…you okay?” Magnus asks, sitting down next to me at the long table. I play with a bit of fall-colored confetti and shrug.
The LGBTQIA social is in full swing. Today everyone's gathered for the annual Friendsgiving before heading home to spend time with their families. And despite making a few good friends since joining, I want to just go back to the apartment to be with Whit. Ever since that phone call last week, he’s been distant. Pulling away.
I can feel it growing wider each day. His moods are darker, and he’s disappearing into his mind far too often. I can see the torment the most when we have sex. It’s almost desperate, with him clinging to me, those dark eyes boring into mine as if he’s committing each thrust, each brutal kiss to memory.
It’s hot, this new kind of intimacy, but at the same time, it's disconcerting. Am I losing him?
“Whit’s just being weird,” I tell Magnus and lean back in my chair, folding my arms across my chest.
“How so?” Mag asks, turning toward me and peering up with those sweet hazel eyes. He’s wearing his signature llama bowtie, a purple button-up shirt, and white pants.
What dude wears white pants?
“He’s just being distant. Cold. It’s confusing,” I say, rubbing a hand over my face, the stubble ticking my palm.
“He’s hard to read,” Magnus says, nibbling on his lower lip, looking…I dunno….guilty. What’s he have to feel guilty about?
“That he is,” I say and then ask. “Was he like this with you when you two were…you know.”
Magnus shakes his head. “It was never like that with us. It was more…transactional between us. It was convenient. With you…I’ve never seen him so happy.”
I close my eyes and tilt my head back. Fuck, I’m getting a headache.
“Look, Caleb, I’ve known Whit for four years, and I still don’t know him all that well. everything Idoknow is usually something that I happened upon by accident.”
I eye him fidgeting in his chair, and I turn toward him, knocking my knee into his. “You have something to say, Magnus? You know something?”
Magnus blinks rapidly and shakes his head, looking nervous.
This little shit knowssomething.