"Stop what?" I ask, staring at him again.
"Stop talking about a future that may not be ours to have."
My gaze wanders, taking in the peacefulness of the cemetery around us. It's then I realize how many people have already left for the reception, and how close to alone we are now. Mateo's grandmother is nearby. So is his grandfather. But they're gone and we're here, and I frown at him now.
"Is that some kind of mortality thing?"
Mateo shakes his head. "No, it's a you and me thing."
Laying us to rest here is poetic. Tragic too, but mostly beautifully poetic. The only better place to do it would be on the bench where it all began, but it's too late to ask him to join me there.
"This is it, then? It's all over?"
He shakes his head again, his gorgeous face twisting into a sad smile. "Oh, I'm not sure either of us is stupid enough to believe it'll be that easy."
"We wouldn't let ourselves say goodbye that first night."
"And I don't expect us to do it now."
"But we're not waiting anymore," I murmur.
"I just don't know what we're waiting for."
Chapter Fourteen: Mateo
(I Didn't Have to Do It)
Ispend the night at Isa's the night of the funeral because going back to my apartment seems like a level of lonely that would leave scars. I'd stay at Sophie's, but I've leaned on her all week. I would've followed Logan home, but I've done enough damage for the day. And I think I'd crash on a barstool at Kai's, but I may not be welcome there anymore.
I'm still not sure how it all went so wrong, so fast, but I don't know how to take it back when I meant everything I said to Jamie.
I meant everything, but I don't want to stop waiting for him. I've never wanted that, and I never said it either.
Why couldn't he have held on to the fact that I always want him with me? That, at least, was something I did say.
But Jamie left, and I felt so damn detached from myself all day. I know I was fortunate to have my grandmother as long as I did, but losing her hurt, and I've been spiraling since I got the call. At least some of the pain had been simmering since the summer, when I realized how much time I'd spent away from her, my parents right to lay that guilt on me. My brief trip to New York hadn't been aproblem—my grandmother had encouraged that wholeheartedly, and more or less kicked her feet when we caught up upon my return—but the years before, especially after my grandfather died, had been wasted.
My throat closes around something bitter when I think about how much Jamie kept me from her, but only because the reality that I'm at fault is a much harder pill to swallow. Staying near home and making myself available for dates we could never call dates wasn't something I could blame him for, but today it was easier, and it made seeing him more difficult.
Ididwant him to come to the funeral, but spotting him in the back row of the church reminded me of why he shouldn't have been there. The distance was worse than if he hadn't been there at all.
And then there was Logan.
He and I had been in touch the past few days—as much as Jamie and I had been—so I'd known he'd be making the drive to pay his respects. I'd also known I'd be glad to see him, so I certainly wasn't sorry that we'd had a chance to talk, and the hug had felt so good. But then Jamie had seen us together, and I suppose I’d known that would happen, too.
My payback was that Jamie and I didn't touch at all before we went our separate ways.
On the bed in my sister's guest room, when the rest of the house is asleep, I consider sending him a voice note. Several, maybe. Even after all these years together, it feels like there are so many things to say. I thought we'd have a lifetime for that, and I'm still not convinced we don't, but right now my chest is hollow, the beat of my heart lost in an empty room.
I put my phone down and fight my way through a terribly restless night.
Checking hockey scores in the morning shows me Jamie missedout on a huge win.
In my classroom, I flip through my desk calendar, grateful I only have a couple of weeks of teaching before the holiday break. Even with soccer to provide some distraction, it'll be an emotional Christmas with my family, and I won't try to guess whether I'll be in touch with anyone else by then. Regardless, nobody will look too closely if I drink a little too much and hide more than usual. I don't have a grandparent left to visit, so I'll keep some guilt at bay.
Until we actually reach our break, and on nights I'm not coaching, Sophie and I pass time with a couple of happy hours, a few movie nights, and plenty of bitching and moaning. I cry about Jamie, and she wipes my tears away, but she doesn't let me dwell on that ache. I'm not sure she believes Jamie and I will stay apart any more than I do.
One night, I wake from a dream that must have been about him, and I reach for my cock and make myself come, clenching my pillow while I wonder how I can simultaneously yearn to go back in time and be desperate for a peek into the future.