Chapter 8 – Luke
LUKE
After walking Marley that evening, Luke stood at the kitchen table, drinking a glass of water and checking his phone. The kitchen was quiet, except for Marley's nails clicking on the hardwood floor and the refrigerator's hum.
He heard nothing from Jack: no text, call, or anything.
Fine. He's busy. New job, lots going on. Last night was great. Maybe it'll happen again. Maybe it won't.
He laughed at himself. But I'm not going to act like a teenager with his first boyfriend.
Except... wasn't he doing exactly that? Checking his phone every ten minutes? Replaying last night—with, literally, his first boyfriend?
Marley gave him the cocked-head look.
"I know, buddy. I'm being ridiculous."
Luke tried to distract himself. He cleaned the kitchen and folded laundry. By 7:30, he couldn't take it anymore.
"What the hell," he muttered, then typed a text.
"Hi, Jack… Hope you had a good day. Just wanted to say hi after last night. That was amazing."
He read it twice. Was “amazing” too much? Not enough? Maybe he should try “nice.” Or “fun.” Or cut that little sentence altogether.
Just send it, he thought.
He tapped send, then set the phone down on the counter.
Done.
Luke stepped onto the back deck for the clear, cold air.
It hit his lungs immediately—sharp, clarifying.
He looked up at the countless stars, told himself to appreciate the immensity of it all, and took three deep breaths.
The white clouds exiting his mouth were second nature. He didn’t even notice them.
Back inside, he checked his phone.
Nothing.
He made dinner of leftover chicken and roasted vegetables, eating it while standing at the counter. The phone was face-up so he could see it.
By 8:45, Luke picked up his phone and called Alex, a ski buddy and one of his gay friends in the area. This was part of what sobriety had taught him: to reach out to others when he needed help.
"Please tell me you're not already spiraling over the Army guy," Alex said instead of hello.
"I'm not spiraling."
"You're totally spiraling."
Luke sighed. "We had this amazing date last night. Then he left, and I texted him more than an hour ago. And now … nothing."
"And?"
"And... I don't know. It feels like—"
"Like he’s disappearing on you again?" Alex asked. "Luke. You slept with him once. It was great, I'm sure. But you're not dating. He doesn't owe you a text back within an hour."
"I know that."
"Sounds like you’re about to drive to his hotel and read him for filth."
Luke smiled despite himself. "I'm not that bad."
"You're calling me at eight-forty-five on a Thursday because a guy didn't text you back fast enough. You're a little bit that bad."
"Fair point."
"Look," Alex said more softly. "I get why you're nervous. This guy hurt you before, but that was a million years ago. Give him a chance to show he’s different before you decide he's not."
Luke fell silent for a moment. "You're right."
"I know I am. Now—"
Luke's phone buzzed against his ear.
He pulled it away and looked at the screen.
Jack.
"He just texted," Luke said.
Alex laughed. "See? Stop being crazy. What'd he say?"
Luke read it aloud. "Hi, sorry, just seeing this. Long day but good. How are you?"
"Perfectly fine response,” Alex said. “Now, don't text him back immediately."
"What?"
"You heard me. Wait like ten, fifteen minutes. You don't want to seem desperate."
"I'm forty years old—almost. I'm not playing games."
"It's not a game. Just... give it a minute. Finish your conversation with me. Then text him back."
Luke smiled. "When did you get so wise?"
"I've always been wise. It’s my gift and my curse." Alex paused. "You good now?"
"Yeah. I'm good. Thanks.”
"Anytime, babe.”
After they hung up, Luke reread Jack's message.
Long day but good.
Simple. Straightforward. No red flags.
Alex was right. Luke was overreacting.
He waited fifteen minutes—washing dishes, putting them away, and refilling Marley's water bowl. It wasn’t to play games. He wanted time to process his emotions rather than react to them.
Then he picked up his phone and typed, "All good here. Glad your first day went well. Talk soon?"
That was good, he thought. Short and easy, no big deal.
He hit send and set the phone down.
This time, he didn't wait by it. He still wasn’t playing games, but he was using boundaries as a shield.
JACK
He'd thought about texting Luke during dinner at the lodge restaurant. But he chose to enjoy the roast beef stew and a generously poured Scotch, letting the day's tension ease from his shoulders.
Around eight-thirty, he pulled out his phone and saw Luke's message from seven-thirty.
"That was amazing."
Jack stared at it.
Yeah, it was, he thought. But what do I say to that?
He typed: "Thanks, you too."
Deleted it. Even Jack recognized that would be too dismissive.
Typed: "I had a great time."
He stared. It sounded like a job interview.
He set the phone down and finished his Scotch. An hour wasn't that long, right? People got busy. Had meetings. Didn't hover over their phones day and night.
But by nine, he couldn’t bear the weight of the phone in his pocket anymore.
Luke had put himself out there. Jack had made him wait.
Don't be a dick, he told himself.
He picked up the phone and typed: "Hi, sorry, just seeing this. Long day, but good. How are you?"
Hit send before he could overthink it.
Then he waited.
And waited.
Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then fifteen.
This was ridiculous. He'd responded. The ball was in Luke's court now.
Except it had been in Jack's court for an hour and a half, and he'd dropped it.
And now Luke wasn't responding, and the resistance was frustrating Jack even more.
Maybe he's busy, Jack told himself. Maybe he's at the gym. Maybe he put his phone down like a normal person.
At nine-forty-five, his phone finally buzzed.
Luke: "All good here. Glad your first day went well. Talk soon?"
Jack stared at the message.
“Talk soon?”
That was it after forty-five minutes?
He typed: "Sounds good” and sent it.
Then he typed, "Tomorrow night? Dinner?"
Deleted it.
Fuck it. This is ridiculous.
He set the phone on the nightstand and got ready for bed.
Jack lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, telling himself he didn't care that Luke's response had been so casual.
They'd talk tomorrow.
Outside, the wind picked up, whistling around the lodge, which stood like a fortress, solid and safe. Jack closed his eyes and fell asleep easily.