Page 82 of The Love We Deny
I let out a sigh, pocketing my phone.
Not a great start to forty-six.
Joyce knows how to throw a party, that’s for sure.
A balloon on the mailbox, a happy birthday banner hung up in the dining room, party hats on every head, including Frank’s, who I know was forced into it.
It feels good.
Everyone I love is here, even if it is a small group of people, and I’m genuinely happy.
I’m happy, but I’m also anxious, thinking about tonight. It’s been sitting in the back of my mind all day, what I’m about to do with Will.
Part of me has been holding back because it feels like once we go there, it’s real. Even though we’ve done nearly everywhere else. I’m not nervous to bottom, if that’s what Will wants me to do. I’m sure it will be at least fine. I liked what he did with his tongue, so if he does it with his cock—
Either way, I’m looking forward to the act itself. I just can’t get rid of this lingering worry that he’ll leave after. That if we go back to the way it was before, and he gets what he wants, the dates and the kindness he’s shown me lately will end.
That maybe this is all some big joke that ends with me getting my heart broken.
But I know that’s absurd and it’s cruel to put those worries on him. He’s not that person anymore, and I think he genuinely does like me.
I’m sure it’s nerves, and it will all be fine.
Addie is on the couch, her phone face down on the coffee table in front of her, nothing to do on it if she can’t text Emmett. She got ready for the first time in days and came without complaint, wearing a party hat Joyce gave her.
She’s here, and I love her for it, but the light in her eyes has dimmed considerably, and it sort of makes me want to go over and give Emmett a talking to, even though I know he’s probably hurting too. His feelings for her have always been obvious to anyone on the outside, but we all figured she liked him back.
I sit down beside her while everyone is busy in the kitchen. “Hey,” I say, patting her knee. “You doing okay?”
She looks up, giving me a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “It’s your birthday, Dad. Don’t worry about me.”
“I always worry about you. It’s my job.”
“I know.” She leans over, resting her head on my shoulder. “I’m okay. Sad, but the distraction is good. I’m excited for cake.”
We sit like that for a few minutes, watching a bit of the news even though it’s muted on the TV.
At some point, I remember my conversation with Will earlier.
“Hey,” I speak up, nudging her with my elbow. “Would you and Ollie mind staying over tonight? I sort of have plans.”
She sits up to face me. “Youhave plans?”
“Yeah. Uh—” I look around, trying to think of an answer that doesn’t sound as bad as the only one I have. “Karenwanted to come over after the party…”
I wait for the usual commentary, the eyebrow raise, the comment on my outfit, but none of it comes.
“Okay.”
Joyce makes my favorite, spaghetti with her homemade meatballs that she somehow makes taste like what I would imagine heaven being like.
“Forty-six,” Frank says, lifting a beer that Joyce allows him to drink since it’s a special occasion. “Getting old, son.”
“Feels like it,” I joke, watching Will from across the table push around his spaghetti, not eating any of it. I was sort of dreading being around everyone. Worried he would say the wrong thing and out us, worried he’d wink in the middle of a conversation and turn my cheeks red.
But he’s been… fine.
Come to think of it, I’ve hardly spoken to him today.
