I’m on edge as I head into Eric’s condo building.

He called me after he spoke with Ty, when I was on my way back to my condo, and asked me to meet him here. I didn’t press for details, especially because Eric said he wanted to tell me more about it in person.

How did Ty react? I know, better than most, how much Ty wants a relationship with his father.

As I wait in the elevator, my mind is running through all the possibilities. I don’t know how it could be racing as much as it is, considering it’s been going nonstop since last night, me wondering if Ty would ever talk to me again.

I told Eric we’d get our Ty back, but I’m scared as shit that maybe we won’t, or if we do, if it can ever be the same.

I know better. It can’t. Not after everything that’s happened. Not with how things have changed. And I know they’ve changed…forever.

I can’t be the one to have totally fucked up Eric and Ty’s relationship. Not when I know they both want one so desperately. They’re caught between a rock and a hard place. They both desire a relationship, but they haven’t found a way to make it work.

Deep down I’ve known, even before we confronted Ty, that regardless of how upset he was, his desire to know his father would outweigh his rage. Although, maybe I only wished that was the case for our own benefit. Experiencing Ty’s hurt last night, that was a whole other thing altogether.

When I enter Eric’s condo and head past the kitchen, I round the corner and see him sitting at the dining table, on his laptop. He pushes to his feet but doesn’t hurry to me.

I move slowly, cautiously, even though my impulse is to jump him, because even the hours of a typical day are too much for me right now. Every hour away from him is an hour too long.

“How did it go?” I ask, meaning so much more.

“It went really well.” But he doesn’t look like it went well, and he didn’t sound that way on the phone. He looks as though he’s pained by something.

“You’ve got to give me more than that,” I insist.

“I went to his place, and I was expecting this big, dramatic scene like last night. I expected him to yell and shout and tell me what a terrible father I was. He was upset and angry, but mostly he was hurt. He was really receptive…too receptive, more than I would have been if I were in his shoes.” I see tears welling in his eyes. “I think I’ve always underestimated him. I know he’s a great guy, but this has shown me this side of Ty I never knew existed. His compassion, his understanding, his willingness to listen.”

“His love for his father,” I add.

“He doesn’t love me, Jesse. Especially not now.”

“But can’t you see that he wants to get to know you? Can’t you see that it’s always been that way?”

“I saw that tonight. I can’t say I really saw it before. At least, not after those first few years.”

“He kept asking to get to know you, Eric. He was looking for you.”

“He wasn’t looking for me. He was looking for this idea of a father that didn’t exist. He wanted to get back all those things he missed out on, those things we couldn’t go back in time and do.”

“Are you sure that’s what he was missing out on?” I ask. “Or is that something you’re projecting onto him? Eric, Ty wants to have a relationship with you now. That’s all he’s ever wanted. Yeah, he probably does wish things were different. Do you think I don’t wish I could go back in time and have a Christmas like a normal kid? But do you think that in any way takes away from the Christmases I get to share with Stan and Charlotte? Do you think I think any less of them as parents because of that?”

My attempts at soothing Eric don’t seem to be working.

“It’s different,” he says. “They’ve been great to you. I can’t say I’ve been like that with Ty.”

“If you feel that way, you can either keep being shitty or you can actually do something to change all this. Eric, I look at you and see this incredible guy who wants a relationship with his son and who’s felt so guilty and so insecure and inadequate for the job of being a dad because of the way it was thrust on him. Maybe you haven’t done all the things you should have, but your heart is in it. I know Ty, and I do think that if you actually push and fight for this the way you need to be fighting for it, Ty can have the father he’s been looking for.”

“I keep feeling it’s too late.”

“It sounds like you thought it was too late a lot sooner than it was. And as long as you keep feeling that way, it will be too late.” I move closer, wanting to set him at ease. “Life is a real shit to some of us, all of us in some ways. Then we make stupid choices on top of that, but the fact that Ty even opened up to you again shows that we can make up for those.”

He nods, not like he agrees, but like he wants to stop talking about it, so I take another angle. “Did he say anything else about us?” I ask.

There’s a part of me that wants to hear that Ty doesn’t hate me, that he understands. That’s unrealistic, but I want to believe that if he knew how I felt about Eric, he’d want this for me too.

“He said he knew we wouldn’t have even talked to him unless it really meant something to us. That was one of the things that threw me off so much…made me realize he’s such a better man than I’ve ever been.”

I move to Eric and wrap my arms around him. In some ways, hearing that—Ty’s acknowledgment of our feelings for one another—gives me a sense of relief, like I don’t have to feel ashamed of holding him in my arms, which is something I never want to feel ashamed of.

“It’s funny,” Eric says. “If things had gone differently, according to this script I had in my head, I don’t think I would’ve been as rattled. If he’d blown up and barked at me and swore me off, I would have been angry and frustrated and hurt, but I would’ve come back here, heartbroken for losing my son, but I would’ve had you. I would’ve taken you tonight to ease the pain within me, the despair.”

“I would’ve let you.”

“But I feel like what played out just filled me with this horrible feeling in the pit of my gut. I want to be a good father.”

“You can be, Eric. It’s not too late.”

“At the end of the day, I don’t know if I’m capable of giving him what he needs.”

“I believe in you, and I believe we can find a way to make this work despite how entirely fucked up it all is. I mean, we’ve lived some pretty fucked-up lives. We’re pretty good at handling crazy shit, right?”

Eric chuckles, but it’s sort of a bitter realization that I’m not wrong. “Jesse, I can’t tell you what you being here has meant to me… You being here is the thing that has given me strength and the ability to face some of these demons I’ve held on to, that I’ve avoided and struggled with, things I’m tired of running from. I’m so fucking tired of running.”

I place my hand on the back of his neck and massage gently.

I feel his tension dissolving the way it usually does when we’re together. He leans toward me, resting his forehead against mine, his breath slamming against my lips as his nose touches my cheek.

“So why don’t you tell me about this charity you raise money for?”

“What?” That was fucking out of nowhere.

“Ty brought it up, and it sort of fell on top of all the amazing things about you that I still don’t know anything about.”

“I wouldn’t say amazing. I mean, obviously I care about kids in foster care, considering my life.”

“There’s nothing obvious about you, Jesse.”

My cheeks warm. He’s catching me off guard with this. I was trying to make him feel better, and now he’s bringing this thing up that I didn’t even figure there was any reason to bring up.

“Well, it’s this big Christmas party I throw,” I explain, since he asked. “We fundraise for kids who maybe wouldn’t have a better Christmas otherwise. They’re either in foster care or shelters. I had something like that one year when I was in the system, and it felt nice. Like someone really cared, even though I didn’t have anyone. I prefer to think I can give that to someone else, you know?”

“You give that to me.”

“That’s different.”

“Not as much as you think, Jesse. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“If it weren’t for meeting you, I wouldn’t be doing any of this—talking to my son, acknowledging my past—if you didn’t change the entire fucking game.”

“I didn’t really change the game, did I? I just made it more fun.”

He rolls his head back, pulling away as he makes eye contact. He offers that seductive expression, narrowing his eyes and clenching his jaw—a look he pulls off so effortlessly.

I want him.

He reaches down and grips my ass, cupping it firmly. I can read his expression in his body language so well.

“I guess you can show me exactly how fun this game can be,” he whispers. There’s this air of mystery to that expression he’s wearing, leaving me wondering exactly what he’s thinking…what he wants to do to my body.

I’m eager to find out.