He pointed to me, and then to himself. “The sad pervy old man,” he said, “and his arm-candy boyfriend.” For a moment I was too overcome to speak. “I’d take you everywhere,” I said. “I would shower you with presents, to make you stay. But it wouldn’t work.” “Nah, I’d still leave you,” he agreed. “But I’d miss you after.” He swiped a fingertip through the powdered sugar on his cake plate. “Not at first,” he said. “But the years would go by, and I’d keep randomly thinking about the first man who ever loved me.”
