Page 44 of All's Fair in Love and Pizza
“No, it’s okay. I don’t know why I said that. It’s been a couple of years. It still hurts, but…I can talk about it without getting angry.”
“Angry? Why angry?”
I crunched into a piece of bacon and shrugged. “So many reasons. He was too young, I wasn’t ready to let go, I was pissed at being left to deal with more shit than I was capable of handling, I was worried about Ma, and on top of all that, I had this beef with Dad that he knew nothing about. And that right there is a boatload of TMI, but you asked for it. Don’t feel too special, though. I’ve been feeding this shit to my therapist for years.”
Rob sighed, shaking his head in mild censure. “You’re the prickliest asshole I’ve ever met, and I’ve met quite a few.”
“Thanks.”
“Since I shouldn’t feel special about your candor, do you mind if I ask if your beef was about coming out?”
“It was one of the things I struggled with…yeah. I’m an only child…only son. That right there is a lot of pressure. I was expected to be my father’s mini me—uphold the family name and maybe, do something more. Dad used to talk about expanding the business. He and Uncle Sal had their eye on the candy store and?—”
“So that’s why you hated me!”
“I did not hate you,” I huffed. “I was rightfully pissed about your pizza bagels.”
“Sure.” Rob trailed a forkful of pancakes and eggs through his syrup.
“And maybe I was a little disappointed. It was one more thing I didn’t pull off.”
“What do you mean?”
I glanced briefly out the window. “I wanted what you had. I wanted to play football, make a lot of money, come home and help expand the family business. For my dad. But football…”
“Didn’t work out for you,” he finished.
The sentence hung between us like a bubble I could pop and forget. He knew the answer, but he wouldn’t pester me for details I didn’t want to share. I’d learned that much about Rob. But if he could share bleak episodes, I should be able to do the same.
“Yeah. I lasted five months in Tennessee. Wasn’t good enough. What worked for me in college didn’t translate in the pros. It was a hard pill to swallow,” I admitted.
“That sucks.”
“It did. I felt like I’d let everyone down…my dad, my coach, the whole town. I could’ve stuck it out, but my uncle got sick, and my family needed me here.” I inhaled then slowly released the air from my lungs. “I also met someone in San Francisco and thought I was…”
“In love?” he supplied.
“Something like that. It wasn’t love, though. It was an unhealthy secret that made me feel almost as sad and defeated as losing my shot at the pros.”
“I’ve been there. I had a mutually beneficial arrangement with someone deeper in the closet than I was. I thought that was a good thing at the time, but I wouldn’t do it again.”
“Me either.” I scrubbed my hand over my stubbled jaw. “He was a corporate lawyer, a little older, and bi. I was his low-risk experiment ’cause neither of us was out. But then he met a girl who fit the suburban lifestyle-dream he’d been spoon-fed his whole life, andboom, that was the end of me.”
“Ouch.”
“Meh, he did me a favor. My dad had his first heart attack a month after I’d come home for good. I try to remember that forall the things that didn’t work out the way I hoped, I was still in the right place when it mattered most. It’s enough to make me believe that I’m where I’m supposed to be now.” I shoveled a big bite into my mouth to make myself shut up.
“Like fate.”
“Hmph.Who knows?” I was anxious to drop the subject and talk about something easy like the episode ofSherlock Holmeswe’d watched a couple of nights ago, but I had one more thing to add. “It might be the same for you. Maybe you were always supposed to come back to Haverton.”
“And open a shop next to yours.”
“So I could kick your ass at a bake-off.”
Rob threw his head back and guffawed. “You know, I was beginning to think you were kind of a softie, but no…you’re still an asshole.”
“Yeah, yeah. Are we watchingSherlock Holmestonight? You fell asleep in the middle of the last episode.”
