free time alone because you couldn’t face seeing other people. If you told them that you ignored all the phone calls and texts and e-mails from the many, many friends you had for a whole fucking year, they wanted to know why.
He’d found that most people didn’t know what to say if you told them that your partner of over fifteen years, the man who had left his own family and friends behind to follow you halfway around the world, had dropped dead from cardiac arrest behind the wheel of his car.
Dying instantly.
Horrifically.
All alone.
Leaving you to try to get through days that never, ever seemed to fucking end, followed by nights so grim, so full of bad, bad thoughts that you couldn’t see how you could get through even one more.
A year later, he still found it hard to find the right words.
Morgan just said sorry, and Theo believed he really was.
Chapter 5
T HEO counted down the last few seconds of the cool-down program on the treadmill before stepping carefully off. He took a moment to catch his breath, acknowledging one of the other regular runner’s greeting with a nod, and then stretched out his quads, holding the treadmill handrails until the illusion of the gym floor moving under his feet finally ceased. Eyeing the weights across the room, he wondered whether Peter was getting a chance to work out while he was away. When another gym user said hey, he smiled in return.
Peter had texted the night before—just a general hello, how are you?—but Theo had only picked up the message that morning as he retrieved his phone from its charging dock in the kitchen.
They kept missing each other.
Thinking back, the way they’d made out like horny teens up against the kitchen counter just two weeks before seemed dreamlike—like someone else’s memory, rather than his own.
He hadn’t slept well after Peter left that night, his dreams full of hot breath against his neck and the wrong arms around him. Theo knew that guilt was a normal part of grieving. He’d read the booklets about living with loss that his mom left behind after one of their lunches. He’d thanked her politely at the time, and then, after reading them, took out his anger at her too-late interest on the glossy pages, ripping them slowly, methodically, his face twisted, until not a single complete sentence remained.
Morgan’s online questions and virtual sympathy had been just enough to tip Theo’s emotional scale from physical relief—sexual attraction had seemed impossible just weeks before—to overwhelming guilt and loss all over again. One of his mom’s booklets had detailed the stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. He almost hated being a textbook case of someone getting over loss.
The thought of leaving Ben behind was almost as overwhelming as losing him in the first place.
Now that he’d had two weeks to think about it, Theo was glad he’d met Peter. Their timing might have been off, but at least it had been an opportunity to feel almost normal again, even if only for a few minutes. He was also glad that Peter had left right away. Getting off had been unexpected—needed, but still unexpected—but spending more time with the man seemed a step too far, a shade too soon.
Bypassing the weights, Theo finished his workout, showered, and headed for the office.
Maggie met him with coffee, a breakfast bar from the vending machine, and a pile of applications for their department’s intern spots. She talked him through her initial ordering of applicants, indicating which had some corporate experience, and which were majoring in a relevant field. She pointed at the tallest stack. “I wouldn’t usually include these as they don’t strictly meet the criteria, but….” She looked across at the row of empty cubicles. “It’s about to get real busy. If all they do is keep up with the copying and filing, does it really matter what they major in?”
Theo guessed not.
“If you read through this pile,
He’d found that most people didn’t know what to say if you told them that your partner of over fifteen years, the man who had left his own family and friends behind to follow you halfway around the world, had dropped dead from cardiac arrest behind the wheel of his car.
Dying instantly.
Horrifically.
All alone.
Leaving you to try to get through days that never, ever seemed to fucking end, followed by nights so grim, so full of bad, bad thoughts that you couldn’t see how you could get through even one more.
A year later, he still found it hard to find the right words.
Morgan just said sorry, and Theo believed he really was.
Chapter 5
T HEO counted down the last few seconds of the cool-down program on the treadmill before stepping carefully off. He took a moment to catch his breath, acknowledging one of the other regular runner’s greeting with a nod, and then stretched out his quads, holding the treadmill handrails until the illusion of the gym floor moving under his feet finally ceased. Eyeing the weights across the room, he wondered whether Peter was getting a chance to work out while he was away. When another gym user said hey, he smiled in return.
Peter had texted the night before—just a general hello, how are you?—but Theo had only picked up the message that morning as he retrieved his phone from its charging dock in the kitchen.
They kept missing each other.
Thinking back, the way they’d made out like horny teens up against the kitchen counter just two weeks before seemed dreamlike—like someone else’s memory, rather than his own.
He hadn’t slept well after Peter left that night, his dreams full of hot breath against his neck and the wrong arms around him. Theo knew that guilt was a normal part of grieving. He’d read the booklets about living with loss that his mom left behind after one of their lunches. He’d thanked her politely at the time, and then, after reading them, took out his anger at her too-late interest on the glossy pages, ripping them slowly, methodically, his face twisted, until not a single complete sentence remained.
Morgan’s online questions and virtual sympathy had been just enough to tip Theo’s emotional scale from physical relief—sexual attraction had seemed impossible just weeks before—to overwhelming guilt and loss all over again. One of his mom’s booklets had detailed the stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. He almost hated being a textbook case of someone getting over loss.
The thought of leaving Ben behind was almost as overwhelming as losing him in the first place.
Now that he’d had two weeks to think about it, Theo was glad he’d met Peter. Their timing might have been off, but at least it had been an opportunity to feel almost normal again, even if only for a few minutes. He was also glad that Peter had left right away. Getting off had been unexpected—needed, but still unexpected—but spending more time with the man seemed a step too far, a shade too soon.
Bypassing the weights, Theo finished his workout, showered, and headed for the office.
Maggie met him with coffee, a breakfast bar from the vending machine, and a pile of applications for their department’s intern spots. She talked him through her initial ordering of applicants, indicating which had some corporate experience, and which were majoring in a relevant field. She pointed at the tallest stack. “I wouldn’t usually include these as they don’t strictly meet the criteria, but….” She looked across at the row of empty cubicles. “It’s about to get real busy. If all they do is keep up with the copying and filing, does it really matter what they major in?”
Theo guessed not.
“If you read through this pile,
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