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“In the future, you may want to check the weather first before coming out,” I tease him. “And it’s a public beach…”
“This is my damn spot,” he grumbles. “Everyone else can fuck off. My parents brought me here when I was a kid. I would bring the girls when they were little. They would play in the sand and ocean all day.”
Now. Now would be a good time to tell him there’s another little one he could bring to his therapy spot.
But the words refuse to come out.
If I told him, Isaac would be a father to our baby. He would hate it, but he would show up, not for me, but for his son or daughter. I don’t want to put that burden on him. I don’t want him to be with me or a child out of obligation. My whole life, I’ve known how it feels to be unwanted, a burden, abandoned. Providing me with shelter, three meals a day, and endless spending money wasn’t enough. None of those things ever made me feel loved. I wasn’t adored or cherished like the preschoolers I teach. Their parents care about them. They’re more than just an accessory to parade in front of strangers every once in a while, only when it suits them and with a bunch of instructions.Don’t speak unless spoken to. Don’t eat too much. Don’t touch anything. Don’t slouch. Don’t get in the way.”
“I, um, I have to go to work in the morning,” I tell Isaac, even though I don’t want this night to end.
“Yeah, okay,” he says as he sits up. I feel his eyes on me as I stand up and wipe the sand from my pants. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s great,” I reply, giving him a smile because none of this is his fault. I started it that night by teasing him. I pursued him. I didn’t use protection. “Best date ever,” I say because that much is true.
Isaac stands up in front of me and gives me a quick kiss on the lips. A very quick, less-than-two-second kiss. Then he grins at me. “See? I can follow the rules when I want to.”
I can’t help but reciprocate with my own grin.
Every time I’m certain everything is too messed up to ever be right, he does something that makes me hope I’m wrong.
CHAPTERTHIRTY
Isaac
The past week, Holly and I had three more sexless dates. While I’ve continued to keep my hands to myself, she did say she didn’t want me to suffer, so I’m free to get myself off as needed.
And I’ve needed. Twice a day. Sometimes three.
I’ll be going through my day, dealing with club shit like normal, when something will remind me of Holly. Thinking about her causes me to pull up her photos and that goddamn video, and when I see those, well, then I have no choice but to jerk off.
Taking the edge off before seeing her is how I manage to not attack her during our dates.
Talking to her, watching a movie, eating a meal, it doesn’t matter what we’re doing. I look forward to spending time with her.
“I’m surprised you haven’t asked me about telling Lyla,” Holly says as she picks another pepperoni off the pizza and eats it.
Shrugging as if I don’t pray each morning that it’ll be the day we come clean with Lyla and hop back in bed again, I say, “It’s your decision.”
“Uh-huh,” she says as she watches me across the pizzeria table.
“But now wouldn’t be the best time since she’s still not speaking to me.”
“Yes, but I don’t want her to stop speaking to me. We barely talk as it is, and I miss her.”
“I do too. It was nice having her back from school.”
“And you didn’t nag her to go back in the fall. I’m surprised.”
“It’s her life. I’ve got to let her make her own choices.”
“You’re a good dad,” she says. The words sounded like a compliment, but Holly lowers her eyes and sighs, making me wonder if she’s being sarcastic.
“You don’t talk to your parents anymore?” I ask.
“No.”
“Because they wanted you to take a certain path and you refused?”
