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Yet here I am, back in the place I grew up, living that life I dreamed about when I was a young boy. With one very complicated detail. The fact that I’m in love with that friend. My tragically-straight, but oh-so-swoon-worthy—if I were the type of guy to swoon—friend. The one I live with.
“I think, maybe, we become stars.” “Yeah?” I like that idea, that we could stay up in the sky forever, able to watch down over our loved ones. “Yeah,” he says. “Hopefully, we’ll be part of the same constellation.” I like that idea a lot, too.
That I’m just a lonely gay boy in love with his straight best friend.
Crying for him 😭
“I would always choose him. Over and over again, no matter how it ends. In any world where there’s a Wyatt and an Easton, that Wyatt would find his Easton and fall in love. And maybe that’s just my story, to be the brokenhearted. Maybe I’m okay with that.”
I don’t know how to explain it to her. How the moment I stepped back inside this house and brushed past my friend, it felt like a piece of myself that had been untethered snapped back into place. Like my very atoms recognized Easton’s and settled back into my skin and bones.
Easton is my soulmate. He’s part of me, and even if there’s never more than what we have now—and let’s face it, I’ve already accepted there never will be—it doesn’t matter. It’ll never matter.
“Because my fool heart has, and always will, love that man. I would do anythin’ for him, and right now, he’s broken and alone. If I can help him feel that a little less, it’s what I’m gonna do.”
I don’t know what to make of the fact that Easton knows my smell, and I know I shouldn’t read anything into it. But my heart speeds up nonetheless.
“Good job, Papa,” he says, tucking his son more firmly against his body. I swear my heart plain stops. Papa. I watch Easton, the man of my dreams, walk back inside with the little boy that’s quickly stealing my heart. I want to be Papa.
“Nuh-uh,” Will says, turning to look at me with that fire back in his eyes. “It’s not your fault. It’s theirs. It shouldn’t ever matter who we love or how we do it. You, Daddy, and me, we love each other. That’s family, and there ain’t ever anythin’ wrong with that.”
It’s official. I’m lusting after Wyatt.
In one instant, life is as it always has been. And, in the next, my friend’s lips are against mine, and everything—everything—has changed.
Me and Wyatt after all this time. The fact that we’ve been together for so long, but not like this. The fact that we have a son together and yet had never so much as kissed before today. And yes, even our own son giving us his blessing, giving his dads his blessing, before running out of the house like his tail was on fire.
All thoughts of humor die as I watch the man I love, who looks too goddamn sexy for his own good, press into me.
I’ve never felt anything quite so intense, and with anyone else, it would’ve scared me. But not with Easton. Never with Easton.
“Let me be clear,” I say, holding onto him tightly. “I love you, Wyatt James Montgomery. I am in love with you. I know this, my attraction to you, is new, but I have no doubt in my mind that you’re it for me.”
“Big time. Easton, I love you,” I tell him more seriously. “I’m madly in love with you, and I want nothin’ more than to be yours, and for you to be mine, until we’re dead and buried in the ground.”
Will’s head pops up, eyes glistening. “Daisy. Yeah, that’s perfect.”
My dogs name is Daisy 🥹😭😩
“Thank you for lovin’ me,” I tell him again. “Easiest thing I ever did,” he replies, voice hoarse but true.
Love is love. And I love this man.
So will you? Will you be my husband so our two fool hearts can love each other for the rest of their days?”
The way I love you,” he shakes his head slightly, “it’s just a part of me, of my very makeup. You’re in my atoms. My bones. My head and my heart. I wish I could show you. I wish I could hold it in my hands, so you could see just how brightly that love shines. But I can’t do that. What I can do is promise that my love for you will never go away. It won’t fade. It won’t falter. It won’t die. I will love you, Easton William Moore, for all my days and on into the night sky.”
There’s clapping from our family, a few whistles, and even a cat call, but to me, there’s only Wyatt and the feel of him in my arms. The feel of home.
“Well, Easton William Moore,” Wyatt says, humor dancing in his golden brown eyes. “You look like a fool.” “A fool in love,” I tell him. Wyatt lifts his hand, tracing my lower lip, before he rests his palm over my heart, right where he belongs. “Makes two of us.”
