Page 20 of Shifter Omegaverse AU

“I figured you would tell me if it was important.”

Was it important? His gender was only one part of him, just like his hair, his eyes, and the birthmark on his big toe that sort of looked like a hoofprint. It all mattered equally, but unlike his hair, eyes, and toes, his gender was a bit more complex. Sure, he talked about complex things with Ethel all the time, and even more so with Ray, but Milo had been doing his best to avoid the edge of that chasm.

Sometimes, that was easier said than done. Ethel brought up Anabelle often, and to be fair, so did Milo, but it usually involved a funny story or relevant anecdote, like everything he’d shared with Rowan. Every once in a while, though, Ethel would get melancholy, and Milo would find himself teetering back and forth on that edge.

That was probably why he hadn’t told Ray or Ethel about the chasm and the fog. After everything that had happened, he found himself not wanting to talk about himself at all. He’d had to do enough talking when explaining to Andrew and his coworkers about losing Anabelle and, later, explaining to Ethel about losing the shitstain that was Andrew. After that, it just felt easier to talk about anything and everything that wasn’t about him or the way his heart didn’t seem to beat the same way it did when Anabelle was alive, and how sometimes, late at night, he would wonder what would happen if he let himself fall into the chasm.

Milo’s pony gave a soft, plaintive whinny, pulling Milo back from that edge, but also drawing his attention to something else.

He hadn’t realized it, but he hadn’t had those thoughts in several weeks now. It had started the day he met Rowan. That wasn’t to say it was thanks to Rowan because he would never want to pin something that monumental and heavy on another person. It was more so that meeting Rowan had somehow changed the direction Milo’s life seemed to be heading.

For whatever reason, while standing in that movie theater lobby, something had come over him, and he’d offered more information about his gender than he had in almost two years. He wasn’t sure if it had been Rowan, Milo, or his pony, but something had spurred him on.

As Milo sat mulling this over, Ethel reached into her “bag of bullshit” as she called it. At any given time, it usually contained three knitting projects, five snacks, at least two things she wasn’t supposed to have, and something that would no doubt get them all into trouble.

Today, it contained a honeycrisp apple, and she handed it to Milo and made a “go on” gesture with her hand. Milo dropped the other side of the blanket, exposing his entire skinny back to the breeze.

He placed the palms of both hands on the top of the apple and gripped the bottom with his fingers. His pony conjured up a picture of Anabelle, with her long, gray hair and dazzling smile, and Milo split the apple in half, just the way she used to do for him.

Wordlessly, he handed one half to Ethel, and since Ray was walking back across the yard towards them, carrying Milo’s own “backpack full of bullshit,” he did it a second time to split his piece in half for Ray.

He wasn’t even sure if Ray and Ethel liked apples, but Ray kept a drawer full of them in his fridge, and Ethel always seemed to be stealing them from the lunchroom.

“I think it is important, but for a long time, it was only something I felt safe exploring with Anabelle,” Milo finally said. “Not that I don’t feel safe with both of you, but…”

Milo tipped his head up to look at the uninterrupted blue of the sky as the fog whited out the edges of his mind. If only he could somehow shine a light as bright as the spring sun inside his head.

“But she was the first person to make you feel that safe, and losing her took away that safety,” Ethel said. “At least, for a while.”

Milo lowered his gaze and found Ethel staring down at the piece of apple in her hand. One day, they really needed to talk about this. They were the only two people left who loved Anabelle and could share that love with each other. He just wasn’t quite ready yet. Just like he wasn’t ready to say anything definitive about his gender, but maybe he was ready to take the first step back onto the path.

“I guess, for some reason, my pony and I are feeling a little safer now,” Milo said, giving Ray his most thankful smile as he accepted his backpack and handed Ray the quarter apple. “I haven’t really had enough time or headspace to make any decisions when it comes to gender or pronouns, though.”

“That’s understandable,” Ray said, and Ethel crunched into her apple. “There’s no rush, and it’s also fine if you don’t ever make any decisions. You can let us know when you’re ready, or we can check in with you as often as you’d like.”

“I’ll likely forget to check in,” Ethel said. “Just assume you have blanket permission to share whatever you’d like to share. Like Leonard and his bowel movement updates.”

Milo scrunched up his nose. “I’m not sure if equating my gender to bowel movements is—”

Ethel spit out a seed, like she was in one of the old cowboy movies she liked to watch. “Of course it’s not the same, but if I can listen to Leonard talk about his bowels so I can help identify if something changes or has gotten worse with his health, I can and want to listen to you. All day, every day, whenever your little heart desires.”

Though the logic was odd, the sentiment was so sweet, Milo had to wipe his eyes with the corner of the grass-stained blanket.

“I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ethel said, as she always did.

“Seriously,” Milo pressed. “You’re one of the two most important people in my life.”

Ethel spat out another seed, her smile turning saccharine and lethal. “Soon to be three most important people in your life.”

Milo attempted to collapse backward, but Ray snagged him around the shoulders and pulled Milo against his warm side. “When are you going to see him again? I saw you texting him on the way in here from the parking lot. Is it soon?”

“You’re both incorrigible," Milo said, resisting the urge to rip open his backpack and check his phone.

He had been texting with Rowan the past week and a half, and they’d settled on tomorrow night to go play mini golf. Why mini golf, Milo couldn’t say, but the idea had popped into his head, and he’d stuck with it. It seemed like a perfectly platonic, absolutely reasonable way to spend time with the tall, handsome, muscular, kind—

“Oh, you’re definitely seeing him again,” Ray said, grinning impishly. “You have that dreamy look on your face.”