“No. Found something better to do with my time. I have Dad’s company shit keeping me busy.”
Guilt crawls up inside of me. I’m the reason he didn’t sign up, not that he’ll ever admit it, but I know it’s true. I didn’t grow up with this guy not to know his tells, and the twitch in his eye says everything. I know things with our dad can be stressful. It’s one of the reasons why I never went to work with him.
“So, what have you been doing in your free time?” I ask, and he glowers at me.
“None of your fucking business,” Mitch grumbles and shoots the ball. It tilts on the rim and falls to the ground, making him swear. “You have your secrets, and I have mine.”
“Mitch, come on. It’s not like that.”
“Yeah, it fucking is. Doesn’t matter. Let’s just play.”
So we do. We play for the next hour and a half before we part ways. Mitch is quieter than normal, and I can tell that my absence has been bothering him. Max’s too. I should warn Max, lest Mitch shows up at his place and hurls insults at his husband.
I made that mistake.
Still feel shitty about it, like I need to grovel more, despite spending my last dollar on that gift card I got for them.
Maybe I’ll convince Coop to send them somewhere nice and he can add it to my tab. What’s a few more months being married to a man if it makes my brother happy? It’s not like I’m suffering. No, this morning, I woke up at the crack of dawn to the smell of pancakes. Coop was standing over the stove, wearing my white t-shirt and an apron, a full breakfast sitting on a plate in the warmer.
“For the love of my life,” he’d teased when he set it in front of me. He even made me coffee in a to-go cup, and before I left, he handed me keys to a Range Rover and told me I was already on his insurance plan. I’d protested, but he forced me to take it, telling me I’d be late if I took the bus.
So that’s how I started my morning, full and comfortable, and arriving at the gym in luxury.
But arriving back at his place, Coop is nowhere in sight, and I feel my spirits sink.
Where the hell is he? Perhaps he doesn’t plan on spending the day with me.
I hop in the shower and wash the sweat off of me, then throw on some jeans and a t-shirt.
Maybe I’ll take this time to walk down to the beach. I mean, I live close enough to it now, should probably take advantage.
I grab a light jacket and toe on my shoes before making my way outside. The breeze is cool, the sky blue. This morning when I left, it was foggy, but it’s all receded into the distance now, giving me an unfettered view of the horizon. My feet hit the boardwalk and then the sand, and I walk along the beach, bending down every few feet to collect some seashells.
I’ve lived within driving distance of the beach all my life and rarely ever went, too busy with school and work and life. But now that I live so close, I make a promise to myself to visit the beach daily, to ground myself. There’s just something about looking out at the vast, blue horizon and remembering how small you are.
My pockets are stuffed when I finally begin to make my way back to Coop’s place, full of little treasures that I’ll tuck away in my drawer and not show a soul.
That’s so gay, man. Seashells are for pussies.
My hands clutch the small shells in my pockets as I pass by some shops on my trek back, and in the distance, I see a familiar figure.
Coop. His hair is more red in the sunlight, making him almost glow as he throws his head back and laughs at something someone says. There’s another man walking beside him.
I spin the ring on my finger, the one I put back on after my shower and suddenly feel incredibly stupid for doing so. Why I keep dragging it around with me is beyond comprehension. I’m not gay. I’m not really married to a man of my own volition.
And now, I’m living with him to pay back some imaginary debt. All to get a divorce sometime in the unforeseeable future. It all feels surreal and a bit ridiculous. It doesn’t stop me from moving toward him though.
I approach Coop and this unknown man with his stylish hair and his neatly trimmed beard. He’s bigger than me, wider, stronger, but he looks at Coop like Coop owns the sun and the moon and all the stars in between. Why Coop insists on keeping me around is confusing as fuck. I don’t look at him that way and I most likely never will.
“Hey,” I say as I come to a stop near them. Coop’s gaze swivels to mine and his lips twitch.
“Hey, lover. This is my friend, Russell.”
“Just a friend?” I ask, not entirely sure why I need to know, and Russell’s mouth breaks into a wide smile.
“Unfortunately. Apparently Coop found someone else.” His gaze slides down my torso and then back up to my face. “Don’t blame him though. You’re quite the catch.”
“He is, isn’t he?” Coop croons, and I feel my cheeks heat.