Isaac #3
“Not right away. She was confused because I hadn’t told her about the whole bisexual thing, so I had to address that.
Then explain to Iris that I always loved her daughter and I wasn’t gay, because I did…
I do…” He stopped, frowning and shaking his head.
“Anyway, she dealt with it okay. Iris kind of laughed at me and told me to stop being an idiot. That she knew I loved her daughter and that she was happy I’d found someone else…
and that my timing couldn’t have been worse. ”
I couldn’t help but snort at that. “She sounds like a feisty woman.”
“Oh yeah,” he said dryly. “In some ways, I’m the only thing she has left that’s like having a child.”
It was a weight and a role he hadn’t asked for, but I couldn’t blame this woman I’d never met.
She hadn’t asked to lose her daughter or watch her son-in-law fall to pieces over something I genuinely believed he couldn’t control.
It wouldn’t have been fair if she put that weight on him intentionally, but it sounded like a grieving mother still trying to hold onto something.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Probably shouldn’t have told them about you.”
“Why?”
Clay opened his eyes, looking pained. “That came out wrong. I just meant…goddammit, Isaac.”
“Why do you sound pissed at me?” I asked, half in amusement. Half in confusion.
“What are you even doing here?” he asked, dropping his hand back in his lap and looking tired. “You got a front row seat to my meltdown. Then I told you I was having a hard time separating you from… And now you’re here, and I’ve spent ten minutes telling you I’m fucked in the head—”
“Clay,” I said softly, stroking his face.
“Stop,” he protested, but didn’t pull away from my touch.
I smiled. “Clay, I’m here because I care about you. Right now, as your friend, because you don’t need someone romantically, I get that. If we just remain friends for life, I’ll be happy with that.”
“But it’s not what you want,” he said, and it was obvious from his tone that he wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved.
“It doesn’t matter what I want,” I told him softly. “Because this is about you getting better and taking control of your life. Doing what you need to do. And get that look off your face, I’m not kowtowing to someone else’s needs over my own. It’s simply the truth.”
“Fine, but I still want to know what you want.”
“You. Just you.”
“Like—”
I chuckled. “You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?”
His eyes met mine. “I want to hear you say what it is you want. Not what you want for me. Not what you hope I’ll do. What you want.”
“I meant what I said. If friends is all we can be, I can do that,” I said, my hand resting on the side of his face.
“But it would be disappointing. There’s so much potential between us, it would hurt to see it pass me by.
I care about you, and I will come to love you, but I want the chance to fall in love with you…
and you to see if you could love someone like that again. ”
“If I could be with anyone, it would be you,” he said, finally giving in and leaning into my hand, closing his eyes. “What if that changes? If I get out of here, get my shit together, and one of us finds out we don’t want that anymore?”
“I just said we can be friends,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m here because I care about you, Clay, not because you’re good in bed, well, not just that.”
“God, don’t talk about sex. Trying to jerk off in here is awful,” he groaned. “Even when it’s to memories of you.”
“It’s nice to know I linger in your mind in some way,” I said, leaning forward. “As I said, I care about you. I’m going to be here for you because I care, in whatever form that comes. There’s a lot of our future that isn’t known, but know that I care about you deeply.”
“And I care for you,” he said, his eyes opening, and I felt my chest squeeze at the warmth and affection I saw there.
“I want a relationship with you without thinking I’ll freak out randomly.
I know it’ll be a while even after I get out.
I’ll have to get a job, a place to live, go to therapy, and pop pills. I’m going to be—”
“A work in progress,” I supplied.
“That’s a nice way of putting it,” he said with a throaty chuckle. “At some point, I want to take you out on a date, a real one. Nothing fancy. I’m not made of money. I know I can’t compete with some of the people you…escorted.”
“Close enough,” I said. “A show of wealth or power will not compete with being able to do something as normal as going on a date with you.”
“I want to do it right,” he said, smiling as if picturing the date in his head. “Maybe take it slow, not worry about how it should go.”
“We’ll have that chance,” I promised, leaning in to kiss him. I wasn’t sure if that was approved of, but screw it, life was only fun if you were willing to take a risk now and then. “In time. I’ll wait.”
“I would never ask that of you,” he said huskily, refusing to let me pull away, though our lips weren’t touching anymore.
“No, you wouldn’t. But it’s mine to offer,” I told him.
“I won’t expect anything.”
“Okay.”
“And you shouldn’t either.”
“Of course.”
“You’re placating me, aren’t you?”
“A little.”
He huffed. “You’re really going to wait who knows how long just to prove my doubts wrong, aren’t you?”
I pressed our foreheads together. “I guess you’ll just have to see.”
“I guess I will,” he said with a wistful sigh. “At least I have something to look forward to.”
That made two of us.