Chapter 16
Author’s Note:
Andddd we’re back to feeling feelings. Ugh, I hate feeling feelings.
Just kidding, I’ve been told it’s “good for you.”
Milo
The fog was thicker than usual.
It permeated Milo’s dreams and hung around their head and shoulders like a shroud. By the time Thursday arrived, Milo was so short on sleep they felt like they were trudging through knee-high water. Even their energetic pony was showing signs of fatigue.
The anniversary of Anabelle’s death was in six days, and thus far, Milo had been doing a pretty impressive job of not thinking about it. There were so many other pressing matters to attend to, like cautiously supporting Ray and wholeheartedly throwing themself into their relationship with Rowan.
They didn’t have time to be sad. Besides, it had been two whole years. Shouldn’t they be over it by now?
Their pony whinnied softly, and Milo buried their head under their pillow.
Yeah, they knew that was an entire pasture worth of horse poop. The chasm in their chest felt just as wide and just as raw as the day Anabelle had died. Time didn’t seem to heal wounds; it just made them easier to avoid.
The problem was, they didn’t want to avoid thinking about Anabelle.
The further their relationship with Rowan progressed, the more they missed her.
It was the big things, like missing her advice and steadying presence, but it was also the little things, like the games she would play with them.
She could guess, with almost 100% accuracy, what type of fabric a piece of clothing was made of.
Milo would try to find the most obscure fabrics when they went thrift shopping, like mycelium leather or spider silk, and she would always guess them correctly.
She was also an expert-level taste tester.
Whatever the heck had been wrong with those muffins all those weeks ago, Anabelle would have been able to tell in a heartbeat.
Milo wanted to tell Rowan all of this, but every time they tried to approach the edge of the cliff, everything went white.
It scared their pony, and quite frankly, it was beginning to scare Milo.
They hated how cut off it made them feel, not just from people on the outside, but also from themself on the inside.
They were so proud of how far they’d come in their gender discovery, even without Anabelle by their side, but the fog was threatening to obscure that again.
Their “magic potion” soda concoction of gender had gone flat and flavorless.
They didn’t feel like crafting fabulously nonconforming outfits or pairing patterns and colors in new and surprising ways.
They just wanted to sleep.
As if solely to spite them, the morning sun seemed offensively bright today.
Milo dragged themself out of bed and turned off Anabelle's blaring radio.
They only had 15 minutes before they had to meet Ray downstairs, and they needed to find an outfit that would take them from work to what was beginning to feel like a very important dinner.
Rowan hadn't said as much, but Ray had alluded to the fact that Reuben and Rowan hadn't talked since Saturday afternoon.
“I'm trying not to get in the middle of things, and I’m beginning to suspect they’re both trying to keep us out of it, but I think there might be some tension tomorrow,” Ray had warned Milo the day before.
Milo had no problem being all up in the middle of things…
at least, they usually didn’t. Right now, though, their head felt heavy, and they just wanted to get back into bed.
The previous night with Rowan had been amazing, but the fog had been there, distracting them during the movie and circling around them as they drove home.
They'd been defenseless against it in their sleep, and now they could barely see through it into their closet.
They went with the first items they could find, a pair of black slacks and a white lace top.
Their instincts screamed at them to add some color or an exciting print, but it was as if the signal took twice as long to travel from their brain to their body.
They ended up leaving their closet with just the shirt and pants.
Makeup would have to wait for a quick trip to the office bathroom, or maybe they’d go bare faced today.
There were only five minutes left by the time they stumbled their way to the door.
Their chunky red heels were still there from the night before, but the idea of having to balance in them all day made Milo so exhausted, they almost did climb back into bed.
Thankfully, there was a pair of navy blue ballet flats stuck under the coat closet door, and they were able to pry them loose with two minutes to spare.
They upended the contents of their red backpack into the black backpack they seldom used. Given that they didn’t even own a black tassel for their wallet, they would just have to go without.
Rowan would understand. He always seemed to understand, even when Milo couldn’t put their needs into words.
Like last night, when he’d pressed Milo into the mattress, just when their head was starting to go from steamy to foggy.
He’d held them down, grounding them as they had one of the best orgasms of their life.
Hopefully they could touch knees or thighs under the table at dinner. It hadn’t been intentional, but their choice of pants over a skirt seemed fortuitous as Milo hurried into the elevator.
“Sorry, I know I’m late, being fabulous just takes time,” Milo said, skidding across the lobby floor to Ray’s side.
“You’re not even…” Ray trailed off as he looked up from his phone. He took a moment, scanning Milo from head to toe. “Uhm…you’re not even a minute late. It’s fine.”
“Perfect, let’s go then,” Milo said, not giving Ray time to pull his eyes back up to their tired face.
“I had the absolute most perfect date with Rowan last night, and I’m going to spend our entire drive to work telling you about it unless you stop me right now,” Milo said.
When Ray didn’t say anything, Milo did exactly that, going into exorbitant detail about the pizza toppings Rowan picked out for them and the fantastic cheese pull of the cheesy breadsticks.
By the time they arrived at their office, the look of concern had left Ray’s face, and Milo gave themself an exhausted mental high five.
There was nothing for Ray to worry about.
He had more than enough to worry about with Ruben, and when they went to grab their Thursday morning coffee, Ray proved that point by fretting the whole time about dinner.
This, Milo could handle. In fact, listening to Ray worry about Ruben did more than Milo ever could to hold the fog back.
They didn’t have time to be sad. They had a best friend to comfort, a boyfriend to text, and emails to be answered.
Well, they did their best on the email front, but they definitely spent more time in Ray’s cubicle and texting with Rowan. They even sent Ethel a few texts confirming they would get together on Wednesday for the anniversary.
After that text, they sort of lost track of time, and before they knew it, it was time to go. On the walk over to the restaurant, they had to hold Ray’s hand to keep him from gnawing on his fingernails. His cat got very upset when he shifted and found his claws chewed to the quick.
Did Ruben know about Ray’s bad habits?
They’d literally only been dating for five days, so Milo figured it was unlikely.
Then again, Milo had been friends with Rowan for much longer than five days, and he still didn’t know about the fog or the chasm.
At least he knew about the nightmares. That seemed rather important, seeing as how they were about to spend the entire weekend together.
They just had to get through this dinner first.
The host led them to their table, and they found Rowan and Ruben sitting in silence, Ruben typing away on his phone as Rowan stared resolutely down at the table, his cheek dimpled and shoulders hunched.
Maybe Milo should have been more concerned about this dinner. It just felt hard to fret or worry when everything in their head was gray.
“Rube?” Ray said tentatively, and both men looked up at them.
The lines around Ruben’s eyes disappeared as he beamed at Ray. “Hi, darling. I missed you.”
To Milo’s utter surprise, Ruben stood up and pulled the chair out for Ray.
Rowan scrambled to his feet, but Milo had already been reaching for their chair, so Rowan ended up awkwardly gesturing at the seat.
“I’m sure you didn’t have time to miss me, since I was texting you all day long,” Milo said.
Rowan ducked his head, but Milo caught the way his cheeks flushed a soft pink. “It’s still really good to see you.”
“You too, sweetheart. Always.”
“Gods, who would have thought? The two Rangecroft brothers finding love at the exact same time,” Ruben said, sliding back into his seat and effortlessly hooking an arm around Ray’s shoulders. Ray lasted around three seconds before he melted against Ruben’s distressed band t-shirt.
Obviously, Milo didn’t expect the same treatment, which was why they almost fell out of their chair when Rowan put a hand solidly on their thigh.
While the touch was nice and, of course, very welcome, it was on the thigh farther from Rowan’s side, so he had to cross his arm across Milo’s chest. This meant Milo couldn’t really move without risking touching his hand or arm.
When Milo looked up at Rowan, they found his gaze fixed squarely on his brother.
“Did you…have a good week?” Ray asked, eyes bouncing between everyone at the table.
“It’s so much better now that you’re here,” Ruben said, smacking a loud kiss on Ray’s temple.
Rowan’s fingers tightened on Milo’s leg, and Milo accepted the fact that Ray had been right to worry. He didn’t seem worried anymore, though, too busy swooning over his effusive fated mate.