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His heart squeezed. He was happy for her. He really was.
But the loss of his dad felt more present than before. His mom could at some point get to meet Dylan, but his dad never would. His dad, who would have loved Dylan’s sense of humor.
He dried the mug and set it on the drying rack. When he turned around, he was struck by the odd image of Jake standing in this same kitchen, having that conversation with his mom.
Jake was right.
He’d loved Jake, but it hadn’t been what he thought it was. And Jake had sensed that from that first night they spent together.
He had never once thought about bringing Jake here as his boyfriend. Partially this was because they all already knew Jake as Olive’s brother, but it was more than that.
He rubbed at a spot in the center of his chest as he remembered what he said at dinner last night with Dylan. More precisely, what he didn’t say. Not telling Dylan about Jake had been nearly a reflex. But it wasn’t fair. Dylan deserved that, especially have he had been so open about seeing his ex and everything about his anxiety and ADHD.
“I have trouble trusting myself, so it’s really important for me to trust a partner even with the little stuff.”
He needed to tell him. Something like the tiniest dose of panic surged through him as a reel played in his head of the future moments Derek could lose out on if he didn’t earn Dylan’s trust.
Aw crap, he’d given Olive so much shit about her fantasizing about Derek’s future coupledom bliss. And Derek had been imagining seeing Dylan’s house for the first time. He was wanting Dylan to meet his mom, and Derek couldn’t wait to see what the deal was with this big Gallagher family party.
Derek sat at the counter and swiveled the stool, thinking about the lives they’d lived in this 1970s split-level through the framed photos, the books, the sparse knickknacks accumulated from family vacations that were sometimes fun and sometimes a disaster but always memorable. The throw blankets on that old basement sofa they’d used during movie nights or wrapped up in when home sick from school.
He’d never once imagined a life with Jake.
Had the pang over his mother’s mug not been about Ken, but because he, for the first time in his life, wanted his own happily ever after? And maybe… he’d started imagining what that could look like without even knowing it.
After leaving his mom’s house, he went straight to his apartment.
He dug in the closet Dylan had hidden inside with Gus and pulled out an old metal lockbox, thankful everything in there had been spared from the water disaster. Derek didn’t keep many sentimental things, but this lockbox had been his father’s. On top was a gold double photo frame holding his dad’s two favorite wedding photos of Derek’s mom—one in each of the dresses she wore. His parents’ wedding had blended his dad’s culture from Taiwan and his mom’s Korean heritage. It was hard to imagine his mom’s second wedding being a spontaneous elopement at Disney World of all places.
Derek rifled through the trinkets and found what he was looking for—a leather-bound graph paper notebook full of sketches. His dad had been planning on building a house for their family. He’d drawn out plans so many different times, because his imagination couldn’t help but muse on giving his family the life he dreamed of for Derek’s mom and his sisters. He was halfway through the notebook when his phone buzzed.
DYLAN
If I accidentally maim myself while throwing myself down the stairs to get out of this, will you drive me to Joni?
Derek grinned and placed the book back inside the box. They’d need to get to the Gallaghers’ soon. He could tell Dylan about Jake after the party.
DEREK
No maiming. Needing stitches might ruin your haircut.
DYLAN
At least you have your priorities straight on the subject of me maiming myself. Cool.
DEREK
Glad you agree. Be up in five.
Chapter 35
Dylan led Derek up the long, winding driveway to his parents’ house. Derek wore a subtly pink floral, short-sleeve button-up that was just tight enough to show off his pecs and biceps. For all the shit Dylan gave Derek about being cocky about his muscles, they were a constant distraction today. Dylan’s own arms were still so sore he could barely lift them. Dylan’s shirt was similar to Derek’s, though it fit very differently. Derek had gone through all of Dylan’s clothes in his uncle’s closet and decided it was the only acceptable option. It was light gray with a subtle patten of Doctor Who Daleks you could only make out if you were up close. A gift from Felicity, of course. Dylan didn’t know if he had ever done the getting dressed with a partner thing, but the experience gave him a peculiar thrill.
Derek eyed the line of fifty or so of every type of vehicle imaginable, including multiple vans bearing a variety of logos for every type of home renovation or repair. “I thought you said we were coming early to set up?”
“A weird thing about these parties is that everyone’s family, so they all end up coming early to help set up for the party. Inevitably the party starts six hours early.”
Derek laughed. “Well, lead on, then, since I guess we’re already late.”