Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 111443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
The best part about this was that our relationship wasn’t a secret. It didn’t matter if anyone saw us or what they thought. And for the first time in thirteen years, I felt like I was part of something real.
But you know how it goes.…When your defenses are down, you spill secrets you vowed you’d never mention to anyone. Ever.
So here’s what happened. It was Seb’s turn to choose our next date venue and of course, he picked the most exclusive restaurant in Beverly Hills.
Of course he did.
It was the kind of place where crystal chandeliers glittered like stars, refracting rainbow prisms on the antique mirrored walls and priceless art hung from long wires as if on display in a revered museum. Each table was set with fine white linen, tasteful succulents, and a single votive. The plates, silverware, and glasses sparkled incandescently and everyone spoke in hushed tones. I’d never been anywhere like it. As confirmed by the prices.
I must have gasped when I opened the thick leather-bound menu. Seb kicked me under the table and raised his glass.
“Relax, this is my date, my choice. You’ll like it. I highly recommend the duck confit. It’s wonderful.”
“If you say so. I have no idea what half of this stuff is.”
“Let me order for us.”
“Deal.” I set the menu aside and peered around the elegant space in bewilderment. “I didn’t think places like this existed. It’s something off a movie set.”
“It’s real.”
“No, it’s not. It’s super nice, but real people do not eat in places like this,” I assured him.
“I’m real people,” Seb insisted.
“Meh,” I teased, chuckling at his put-upon scowl. “Okay, fine. You’re a good balance between real and make-believe.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re not the type to scratch your nuts while you scream at the TV, only to have the Eagles lose and send you cryin’ in your beer. Like real normal people. And you probably don’t know what it’s like to stand in a twenty-person line at the grocery store and finally get to the cashier only to realize you left your wallet at home.”
He chuckled at my delivery and shook his head. “You’re wrong. I’ve never watched an Eagles game in my life, but—”
I tossed my napkin on the table. “This is over.”
“Ha. Ha. But I’ve definitely stood on long lines in grocery stores and waited in ER rooms with a crying kid. I’m as normal as you. I’ve just had more years on the planet. Trust me, it’s taken a lot of blood, sweat, and tears to get here.”
“Where is ‘here’ exactly? I’m not being glib. I’m curious for myself. How do you know when you’ve finally reached the place you always wanted to be? Is it a house or a job or car? Is it a person? The whole concept of ‘making it’ eludes me. When you reach a goal, do you achieve happiness, or does it just start a new cycle?”
Seb set the menu down and reached for the bread. “I’m sure everyone has a different answer to that. Personally, I think to know happiness you have to know sadness. How would you appreciate the good if you didn’t know bad? I have a theory that we take our happiest memories and our saddest ones, find the median, and aim for above average.”
“Hmm. That’s not a terrible theory.”
“What’s your happiest and saddest memory?”
“Uh…I don’t know. I’d have to think about it,” I lied. “What about you?”
“Easy. My happiest memories and my greatest joys are my sons.”
“I figured. What are your favorite kid memories?”
Seb tilted his head thoughtfully. “Charlie’s first steps, the first time he called me ‘Daddy,’ and when he told me he was pretty sure he was gay.”
“Those are good ones.”
“I think so too. That last one is one of my favorite memories. He really didn’t have to come out. We all knew. And he knew that Gray and I were a couple, so it was the safest house possible to wave a rainbow flag. But I have to admit, I’d never been more humbled or proud in my life. Charlie is a force of nature. He does things I could never have done. I couldn’t have told my dad I was gay. I couldn’t have looked him in the eye with my heart on my sleeve and dared him to deny me. In my case, I knew my dad would have knocked me senseless. Charlie has only known love and acceptance. But even the strongest of us need confirmation. We need to know we’re safe. And it felt nice to say those words aloud. We love you, we accept you, we’re honored to be your dads.”
“That’s beautiful,” I commented, a sappy smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.
“And Ollie…being in the room when he was born was incredible. Holding him for the first time, giving him his first bath. His wide eyes and shaking hands. So much trust and possibility. God, it’s beautiful to be so close to perfection. I still feel that way when he walks into a room. He’s so bright and kind and full of possibility and…” He stopped mid-gush and gave a lopsided smile as he tore into his bread. “Those are happy memories.”