Page 80 of The Long Way Found

"I didn't say that," Luke said, suddenly tired. "But I need space. Time to think about what I'm able to accept. And you need time to figure out if you can actually give me what I need. Not just if you want to."

"What if you decide you don't want this anymore?"

“I don’t even know what this is, Jack. We haven’t talked about it once.”

“I know. I wasn't expecting this when I came back. I thought you might hate me, that there wouldn't be a spark anymore. But falling in love with you again—at this point in life, trying to plan the second half—I didn't expect you to become the most important thing."

They were both nearing exhaustion, eyes wet, faces flushed.

Jack broke the silence. "You're right,” he said. “About all of it. I do keep pulling back. I do compartmentalize. I did choose the meeting over you."

He looked out the window. "Twenty-four years ago, I didn't have a choice. I had to go. You had to stay. But Friday night?" He turned back to Luke. "Friday, I had a choice. And I made the wrong one."

The speed was slowing down, the temperature, too.

“I loved you so much,” Luke said softly. “Still do, but it’s different now. We’re adults. We get to choose. And despite all my therapy and recovery and meditation and all the rest… I keep thinking you’re going to disappear on me again.”

“I know. I can tell. I’ve been putting off … trying to understand all of this, how to feel about it.”

“We put off difficult tasks, Jack. Not joy. So you need to decide if you really love me more than you're scared of your feelings. I am now officially done wanting things that people won't give me, even you. Especially you."

Jack's voice revealed his exhaustion. "I do want to give you everything. But I don't know how yet."

"I know," Luke said quietly. "That's why we both need time."

"How much time do you need?"

“I don’t know. It’s not like that.”

Jack nodded. He looked at Marley in his corner bed.

"Take care of him, buddy," he said, standing.

Then he walked out.

Luke sat at the kitchen table and listened to the Jeep start and pull away. He looked at the wrapped gift on the coffee table.

Not yet.

He put his head in his hands and let himself cry.

JACK

Jack drove back to his house in a daze. He almost ran a stop sign and had to remind himself to focus on the road when he realized he was heading back to the hotel instead of his new place.

What he hadn't prepared for was Luke being calm. Precise, clear, like he'd already made a decision and was waiting to see if it would hold.

It held.

Jack pulled over on Elm, cut the engine, and sat with the windows down in the Sunday quiet. Down the street, he could see the corner of Patty's house. A kid pedaled past on a bike. Somewhere, a dog barked.

He thought about the conference room on Friday night. The phone was face down on the table. He could have left—he'd known it even then, had run the numbers and found the exit. But walking into that party meant a commitment he wasn't ready to make. A room full of people who knew Luke and loved him, watching Jack arrive late and guilty, having to be present and accountable without any time to find his footing.

He'd chosen the conference room because it was manageable. And he'd decorated that choice in false consideration for Luke, which was possibly the worst part of it.

It wasn't the first time he'd been warned about this behavior. From his ex-wife, the warnings had come quietly at first, then more sharply later. He'd chalked it up to bad timing or to Anna being unreasonable.

But Luke didn't want to be managed. He wanted to be chosen.