Chapter Nine
Miles lay on his back with his hands clasped together over his slightly rounded belly and tried very hard not to dwell, but unfortunately, dwelling on things was one of his greatest strengths, much to the chagrin of his blood pressure.
He didn’t know what had gotten into him when he’d composed and sent that message to Jun, knowing full well that he was potentially exposing all his secrets and lies with a single sentence.
The number of times he’d written and deleted the same words over and over was mortifying enough that he purposefully erased the amount from his mind, just so he’d have one less thing to chastise himself about.
But in the end, his wishy-washiness didn’t matter, because he had sent it, hadn’t he?
It was over and done with now, and there was no sense dwelling on it.
Worrying wouldn’t do anything but stress him out, and stress wasn’t good for the baby.
For its sake, it was best he move on. It wasn’t like he could control what happened now, anyway.
If only his anxiety listened to reason.
Miles sucked in a deep breath through his nostrils, held it, and let it out slowly, but it didn’t help. He was just as anxious as before, his thoughts zipping through his head at a hundred miles an hour.
Maybe he had been too subtle, and Jun wouldn’t even realize that Miles had shown his hand.
Their night together had been torrid and filled with frantic, heated passion, and it would be entirely reasonable if Jun didn’t remember him nervously rambling about pigeons eating stale croissants.
Sure, the memory was seared into his mind as though he’d been branded with it, but that was because, even now, he occasionally thought about it and subsequently wanted to die from the astronomical levels of embarrassment the memory brought on, because why the fuck had he talked about pigeons to the guy he was trying to hook up with?
But was it really something someone else would remember?
Or, hell, even if Jun did remember, maybe he wouldn’t think of it as anything more than a coincidence. Miles was not the only person on the planet who occasionally saw pigeons on his windowsill.
But Jun was also not an idiot—quite the opposite, in fact—and given the rest of the clues scattered throughout their chat history, given how closely their stories aligned, Miles was fairly certain he’d be able to slide this confession into place and make out the picture in the puzzle.
If Jun remembered suggesting they spend the night together to get a peek at the five-o’clock pigeons, then it was almost guaranteed that he would know who Kilometers was, and who he’d been all along.
Miles wasn’t sure which possibility was more upsetting, so he dwelled on them both in equal measure, because, again, if dwelling were an Olympic sport he’d be toppling over from the weight of all the gold medals hanging around his neck.
Sighing, he unlocked his phone. Despite the fact that he dropped it on his face at an average of twice per week, he took the chance and held it up a few inches from his nose, just far enough away to keep his eyes from crossing as he scrolled through his text history with Jun.
What he was looking for, he couldn’t say.
He’d read it all so many goddamn times, and with the intensity and focus of a spy trying to decipher a nearly impenetrable code, that he knew there were no new revelations to be had, no matter how closely he read between the lines.
He was staring at the subtext beneath his final message from this morning, which said “Delivered 10:02 AM”—he never turned on read receipts because the concept, unsurprisingly, made him anxious—when a push notification suddenly came through, making his phone vibrate in his hand. He startled and dropped it on his face.
Grimacing and rubbing his nose, he picked his phone back up and, learning nothing, held it above his face again to see what the notification had been for.
Jun_iper is going live in fifteen minutes! it read, and Miles’s stomach plummeted.
The severity of his own disappointment surprised him. What had he expected? That Jun would read his message, have an epiphany, and make a beeline to the nearest airport to come be with him?
No, he told himself firmly, that would be insane.
He wasn’t in a fairy tale, nor was he in some romcom that ended with cleared-up miscommunications and tearful love confessions.
He was living a life that was securely embedded in reality, and the reality was that Jun either understood his message or he didn’t, and either way, he hadn’t sent a response and was now going ahead with his own real life, where he was dedicated to his job, and not beholden to Miles, which was exactly how it should be.
Wasn’t this what Miles had wanted? For Jun to accept that he deserved better than whatever he had to offer? This was the best outcome.
Sure as fuck didn’t feel like it, though.
Because he was apparently a glutton for punishment, fifteen minutes later found Miles sitting upright with his computer balanced on his lap as the stream began.
“Happy Thursday, everyone!” Jun said on the screen, his megawatt bulb of a smile making Miles’s heart ache as he thought about how this was the only way he was ever going to experience it again.
“I’m in the mood for something light and cute today, so I picked out a fun one to try out with you guys.
I know a lot of you have reached out, asking me if everything is okay because I haven’t quite seemed like myself lately, and I want to take this moment to thank all of you for your care and support.
The truth is that I have been having a rough couple months, but I think I’m finally coming out of my funk.
I’m feeling lighter than I have in a while, and that’s the energy I want to bring to the stream today. ”
Feeling lighter than I have in a while. Miles couldn’t help but feel a little hurt by that.
Or, rather, a lot hurt by it. Had his presence in Jun’s inbox really been so cumbersome that him saying goodbye had lifted a giant weight off Jun’s shoulders?
He’d never meant to overwhelm him like that.
He’d never meant to dump all his problems onto him.
He’d never meant for a lot of things to happen.
Still, Jun’s blatant upbeat attitude—at least in comparison to how he’d seemed during his most recent streams—felt like a slap to the face.
Maybe he hadn’t understood Miles’s message, but was just so relieved to be rid of him that it changed his whole demeanor.
Maybe he had understood the message, and the fact that Miles had lied to him for so long finally drove the point home that he had dodged a major bullet, and all his pining for his “mystery hookup” had evaporated in a flash, bringing him back to his normal self.
Either way, it didn’t much matter, because the message was clear regardless: Jun was better off without Miles in his life.
“—apologize, I’m having some trouble with the chat, so it might just be a one-way conversation today, but—”
Miles didn’t hear whatever Jun said next, because he slammed his laptop shut and pushed it away from him with such malice you would have thought the device itself had been the one to slight him.
Tears burned hot in the corners of his eyes, and he scrubbed at them angrily, berating himself for getting upset over the fact that Jun was simply following the advice Miles had given him. Jun was not to blame here—Miles had done this all to himself.
Unconsciously, one of his hands settled on his belly, and he looked down to where it rested against the cotton of his t-shirt.
It was still too early for him to feel any movement, but the sickness, mood swings, and exhaustion made sure he was always keenly aware of what was happening inside his body.
He had his first doctor’s appointment tomorrow, and as scary as the whole prospect of parenthood still was—and it was very scary—he couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement of getting to see his baby for the first time on the ultrasound.
Once he got a clear bill of health, he was planning on telling a handful of people.
His mom, who was probably going to kill him for waiting this long to say something, and Miriam, who was almost like a second mom to him at this point.
Others would find out in time, and as they did, he knew his support system would grow.
He could do this. He would do this. He didn’t need Jun here with him to be okay.
He didn’t need him… but that didn’t mean he didn’t want him.
“The internet says you can’t hear me just yet,” Miles heard himself saying aloud, “but I think you’ll be able to understand me anyway.
We’re sharing a body right now. If we can’t understand each other when we’re literally attached to each other, then I am shit out of luck when you reach your teenage years. ”
He inhaled a shaky breath.
“I wanna preemptively apologize for all the inevitable mistakes I’m bound to make when you get here, but I hope you know I’m going to do my absolute best to make sure you have the best life you can.
“And like… it might be hard for you only having one parent, and you might wonder about who your other dad is sometimes, and I promise I’ll tell you about him someday, when the wound isn’t quite so fresh.
I don’t want you to blame him for not being here for you, though, okay?
Your other dad is a wonderful, wonderful man, but I screwed things up between us, so if you need to blame anyone, blame me.
” He closed his eyes, a few tears escaping and trickling down the sides of his nose as he repeated in a whisper, “Blame me.”