Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 116999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 585(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 585(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
William’s footsteps aren’t far behind, shoes clacking against the tiles. “What do you mean?” he asks. He’s right beside me but doesn’t join me in sitting. “Laurence, what are you asking me?”
My gaze wanders over the empty bar, across the bare shelves and dry glasses. I really wish it was stocked right now. I take a deep breath, hope the French air contains some courage. “When I imagine my future, you’re in it,” I admit, rushing the words out before I can change my mind. “If you do the same, do you see me?”
“Laurence…” He sighs heavily, lowering onto a stool as if he might fall if he didn’t. “I thought you understood. You said…you said this was enough—”
“Shit.” This is it. This is when he tells me he can’t leave her, and that this will only ever be it. Hidden. Secret. Shameful. What a fucking fool I’ve been…
He snatches my hand, holds it to his chest. “You said this was enough for now. I figured that meant you could wait until I made sense of things. Until I worked out how to move forward. And…I will. I am. Laurence, please. I—”
“Wait,” I interrupt, “Are you telling me you want more than this? Than what we’re doing now, the sneaking around. The lies.”
“Yes! Yes, of course. In fact, I already decided I’m going to tell Becca about me. Back at the farm, I decided then.”
“About you?”
Not us.
He shrugs a little, drops my hand to his waist but continues to hold it. “About me being gay.” The word rolls off his tongue so clearly and quickly that what can only be described as pride swells in my chest. “Maybe I’m being naïve, hell, I’m certain I’m being selfish, but I think part of me is hoping she’ll listen like she used to. As a best friend. I…I really don’t have anyone else.”
I want to be elated, but all I feel is guilty…and incredibly sorry for the man I’ve fallen so deeply in love with. My first reaction to being questioned by both my mother and Andy was to deny my relationship with William, rather than appreciate just how fucking lucky I am to have people who care enough to want to offer their advice. As much as I want to hate Rebecca Walker, she’s that person for William. Only her. And the cost of being with me might mean he loses her altogether, the only friend and confidante he’s ever known.
I could tell him he has me, but he knows that, and it’s not the same. Everyone needs a sounding board outside of a relationship. I will piss him off some day, and who will he tell? Who can he turn to? Rant to, slag me off to until he calms down enough to come home and let me make it up to him.
“William, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have doubted you.”
“I’m married, Laurence. I know that can’t be easy for you. At the farm, having to watch Becca kiss me and cuddle me like you did… Let’s just say I don’t think I could’ve handled that if the roles were reversed, and I’m aware of what a hypocrite that makes me. Truth is none of this is right for either of you. I’m the only one who should be sorry.”
“Whatever happens, I’ll be here,” I say. “You’ll remember that, right? If it gets bad, you’re not alone anymore. Not like when you were a kid.”
William brings my hand to his lips, kisses the knuckles. Smiles. “I’ll remember.”
“I still have your jacket you know.”
He cocks his head, lifts his lips into a curious smile.
“Maybe I’ll keep it. Then you’ll have to come back.”
Sighing, William cups his cheek with my palm, leans into my touch. “I’ll always come back, Laurence,” he whispers. “Always.”
I think the day that follows might be the greatest of my life. Until now, I thought nothing could top the day I got my first acting gig, or the night I won my first Emmy. Only now can I see how superficial that happiness was, and how temporary. Today, I feel the kind of joy that can’t be awarded or bought. It’s created within, and is the reward in itself. It’s an appreciation of life, of simply being alive, of experiencing the most simple and basic qualities of what it means to be human.
True joy is holding the hand of someone you love. It’s pain in your stomach from laughing too hard. It’s buying cheap leather friendship bracelets from a tourist tat shop and exchanging them with someone you fancy the pants off like you’re fifteen again. It’s swimming naked, splashing and dunking and doggy-paddling with a youthful carefreeness knowing that, right here, right now, only you and your lover exist. I haven’t looked over my shoulder once. William hasn’t pulled away. We’ve kissed and hugged and touched each other and every move has been natural. Instinctive. This has to be what life’s about. The reason we exist. We were created for this moment, this day. This perfect day that’s seared into my soul.