“Because I did the same thing to you that I did to Josh,” I tell them. “And what I did to my own mother, and what I do to a lot of the people around me.”

“Well … I’m glad you realized that,” they say.

The words feel cold, but they’re true. What evidence do I have to support what I’m saying to them?

“I don’t know if I believe myself either,” I tell them. “But I’d like the chance to show you.”

They look up at me.

I take a breath. “I’m really sorry, Wyatt. I’m sorry for being so cruel to you over the last year. I’m sorry for the things that I said to you, for the way that I caused you to feel. And I’m sorry for yelling at you, for making you feel like you did something wrong when the problem was mine and only mine. I just think that … I think that I was afraid.”

“Why were you afraid?”

“Because usually when I let people in, it doesn’t exactly end well. But I shouldn’t have let that influence how I feel about you.”

I look at them, and the way that they’re staring at me. It’s so hard to read their expression.

“You can’t just keep pushing me away,” they say. “If you want this … if you want to be together, then you can’t hide yourself from me.”

“I know.”

I feel a hand on my lap, their hand taking mine.

“I want to see all of you, Neil Kearney.”

I want to appreciate the softness of the moment, but I can’t stop myself from laughing.

“What?!”

“That sounded so cheesy,” I snort.

“Fuck off.” Wyatt swings sideways, toward me, knocking me off balance. They’ve still got this smile, though. “I was trying to be romantic.”

Maybe laughter is the best medicine.

“So …” I don’t want to ask this question, but I can’t stop myself. I need to know. “Are you interested in going back, to like before?”

“Well, if you mean am I interested to going back to faking a relationship, sleeping together, and you yelling at me, then no. I’m not interested in that.”

“Right.”

They find my hand again. “But I am interested in finding something else with you.”

I look at them. “Really?”

“I think we can go slow, ease ourselves back into it. If you’d be okay with that.”

I look at their hand around mine, and I take it, squeezing them softly. “I think that I’d be very okay with that.”

“Good.” They smile at me. “I like your face, Neil Kearney.”

“I like yours too.”

*  *  *