Page 17 of Julian Shared
“Okay,” Julian nods and rocks up onto his tiptoes to kiss me back.
I squeeze his side. “But not fucking wine, because I really do hate it, and not bridge because I ain’t that old yet. All right?”
“Right, of course,” Julian echoes me with a smile. A faint smile, but a real one. And maybe it’s not really all right at the moment, but it will be. I’ll make sure of that.
I hit the button to open the garage door and get in my jeep. As I reverse onto the street, I find Julian still on the front porch. Waiting to see me off.
That thought is still lodged in my brain, and regret is still fresh in my throat.
And love is heavy in my heart.
“Hey, look for a dance club!” I call out the window with a wave before I drive off to work.
Chapter 6
Julian
I’ve never been the napping type. Once I’m up, I’m wide awake for the rest of the day. Yet as I go through my usual morning routine, I’m off-kilter. I try and blame it on the lack of sleep, but I know it’s really about the argument.
What was I thinking?
I suppose I wasn’t thinking at all. I was simply wrapped up in my feelings. Desperate to try and fix everything before Joel left. Though all that did was put a crack in something that might not have even been broken to begin with.
I just…I love my life with Joel. I don’t want to lose him or what we have together. My past came back to haunt me, and I let it possess me instead of putting it back to rest in peace.
Or maybe I never made a proper peace with it.
With a sigh, I pour myself a cup of coffee with ample cream and sugar. I keep myself busy in the kitchen for a while, but since Joel skipped breakfast and I don’t like to eat without him, well, there’s not much for me to do.
There’s not even any prep work to be done for dinner later. We’re still stuffed to the brim with leftovers. I open up my planner and think further ahead.
I’ve tried going digital, but it doesn’t work for me. I like the tactile ritual of opening and closing the big beautiful leather-bound book. Designing the pages by hand. Labeling the months and weeks, creating bullet points of to-do tasks or listing social events.
It keeps me organized. It helps me stay on track. Every day with its own dedicated page. A record of what I’ve accomplished.
I tap my finger along one of the items on today’s agenda. Visit Minh. Oh yes, I promised to bring her over some leftovers since she missed out on our party.
After getting it packed up in plastic containers, I decide to walk over to Minh’s place instead of taking my car or riding my bike.
It’s not too hot in the day yet, and a walk will do me good. It'll help me clear my head.
Our visit doesn’t last for long. I can tell Minh is tired, so we don’t chat for long…though I do give Minh a quick update on how well the party went.
And how impressed the post commander was with Joel.
On my way back home, my walk turns into more of a stroll now that there’s no purpose in being out. Nothing and no one is waiting for me at the house. I cast a discerning gaze on each yard and house on our gay little lane.
Cameron and I are the only ones who aren’t in the military. Or working from home. Or retired. Cameron, I suppose, is in a category all his own since he’s still in school.
I’m the only real gay house spouse.
I pause in front of Cameron’s white picket fence and stare at his front door. One of the windows to his living room is open…and I hear something. The television is on, but Trevor’s truck isn’t in the driveway.
That means Cameron must be home. And he’s probably alone.
Right now would be a great time to talk to him. About cooking or baking. Or upcoming events around post. And maybe, just maybe, we could talk about last night.
No, I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t.
