Looks like I’m up.

I wonder if Eric was this nervous when he went to see Ty. Of course, he had to have been even more nervous than I am now. At least I have the benefit of knowing Ty was willing to make peace with Eric. Despite how furious he was with us when he blew up last week, there’s obviously a part of him that’s willing to talk this out.

“Hey, man,” Ty answers when I call him from work.

I’m surprised he picked up. I was going to text him to see if he wanted to get together, but considering what went down, I at least wanted him to know I tried to call.

“Hey, Ty, I wanted to see if you wanted to get together.”

“You free tonight?”

“I would be free if I needed to be, Ty.”

“Say we meet at my place around seven, if that works for you.”

“Deal.”

He tells me he’ll see me then before hanging up, and that’s it. It wasn’t unlike a convo we might’ve had before the fight. We don’t typically spend a lot of time chitchatting with each other on the phone.

After talking to him, I don’t know how I feel about it, though. I want to talk to him, to get these things off my chest and to let him get whatever he needs to off his.

Despite him sounding okay, and knowing about how Eric’s talk with him went, it doesn’t change my nervousness about the whole thing. There’s that part of me that wants to run and not face this, but that’s not an option. I won’t be a coward. I did something wrong, and I’m willing to own up to it.

After spending the rest of my day at work, dwelling on this meeting, I head to his place, and before I know it, I’m standing at his door. I think about the key I have on my key ring, one he gave me in case of emergencies. The one I’m not going to be using now.

Strange to think this is what we’ve come to. Before Puerto Vallarta, I couldn’t have imagined anything coming between us like this, not after all the years we’ve had together.

Now? Now, just fuck.

I knock on the door and wait a moment before that familiar click of his lock precedes the handle turning. Hearing the familiar sound of the door opening reminds me of all the times I’ve walked through that door, some nights stumbling in drunk before passing out on his couch—that couch where we spent entire nights chatting after I broke up with Whitney.

Ty stands in the doorway, in a polo and jeans. His hair’s gelled and combed to the side like it would be for work.

I’m used to being greeted with a smile and a warm hug, but there’s no hug today. Just that expression on his face, of hurt. Of pain. It’s not the anger I saw on it the other night.

“Thanks for letting me come over,” I say.

He steps aside, allowing me to enter.

I’m tempted to put my hands in my pockets, but that must be some protective mechanism in me trying to shield me from his scrutiny, his judgment, all of which I deserve right now.

As he leads me into the living room, I notice the print hanging over his couch. “You put up that octopus artwork.” It was a piece I’d suggested to him, which wasn’t up before PV.

“Yeah, man. I really liked it.”

“It looks good in here.”

“Amazing, because you have such weird tastes,” Ty says, and I’m wondering if he is thinking about how that sounds in relation to our situation. About his father.

Ty takes a beat before blurting out, “Jesse, you did a shitty thing.”

“I’m sorry. I fucked up. Like…not in a small way.”

“Yeah, this is gigantic. An epic fuck-up, really.”

“We just…”

“I heard from Eric about what just happened. It doesn’t change that it did.” He runs his hand through his hair, messing it up. “Where do we start? Trust? My best friend banging my dad behind my back for months without saying a goddamned thing to me?”

I take it, because he’s not wrong.

“Betrayed. That’s what I feel, Jesse. In case you’re wondering. You betrayed me…in a way that feels so fucking cruel. Seriously, did you consider how it would affect me before you started doing…whatever you guys were doing?”

“Yes. I was always thinking about how not to hurt you. I know that the moment I started down that path it was wrong to keep doing anything with your dad behind your back.”

His eyes widen, and his jaw tenses. “I would prefer you not call him that right now.”

“Sorry. It was wrong, and I know that. I fucked up.”

“I hate you sometimes, Jesse.”

And now I’m waiting for him to really lay into me.

“Because when I’m waiting for you to fuck up and say the wrong thing…to deny it or make up excuses…you go and prove me wrong by owning that shit.” He folds his arms, and his expression twists up. “That’s not me excusing it, by the way. It’s a fact. And as bad as that, it’s as though you weren’t even considering my feelings about all this, at any point. Like you didn’t care about the pizza nights, or the movies, or the bars, or me fucking dragging on and on about stupid bullshit at work all these years. That always meant something to me, and it’s as though you took a dump on it.”

“I understand why you’re hurt, but I promise you I was thinking of you, and I did feel bad, and guilty, and ashamed, but I couldn’t control what happened with Eric.”

“You could control keeping your hands off him,” Ty says.

“Yes, I could have restrained myself, in the beginning. I was obviously listening to my dick, and I acknowledge that, Ty, and I’m so sorry, but what it became, that was something else.”

“Do you love him?” Ty asks, looking directly into my eyes.

“Yes, I do.”

He scrunches up his face, then turns like he’s about to cry.

“And I’m so sorry, Ty, because it’s not fair, and I know that. It’s not fair what it does to you. I didn’t ask to fall in love. I didn’t even think that I could ever feel this way about another person, let alone another man, and I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

“Your sorry doesn’t help me, and I’m so mad at you… I might have made a scene, but I wasn’t being overdramatic when I said you took away my best friend by doing this. Not only because you lied, but because now what the fuck am I supposed to do? You’re fucking my dad. And you’ve been around me when I’ve said some shitty things about him. I mean, do you tell him that stuff?”

“I wouldn’t do that, Ty.”

“It’s not just that. It feels like you chose him, Jesse. There is a difference between a friend and a partner. When you were with Whitney, did we hang out as much? No. Were you telling me every little secret you had? No, you were telling Whitney, your girlfriend. Who are you going to turn to when you have a bad day? Eric. This isn’t as if you’ve suddenly got a boyfriend that I don’t know. And honestly, even then, I think I would feel hurt because it would end up like with Whitney. You’d go off, have your fun, be close to her, and then where am I left?”

This is a curveball for me, and I realize the wounds I’ve created in Ty’s life are about more than me falling for his dad. “Did you feel like I ditched you when I was with Whitney?”

“Not in a big way. You were there. You were awesome. It was fun hanging out then, but it was different, and you know it was different, because the closer you got over the years, the more we had to work harder to see each other and hang out. And I was really enjoying when you guys broke up, because we got to spend time together. We got to laugh, joke around, party, go to Mexico, and here I was thinking that we get to have this awesome friendship again.”

“Wasn’t it awesome before that? I thought we had good—great times.”

“This isn’t coming out right. That’s what happens. I don’t get into relationships. I don’t have to deal with that kind of shit, so when you’re out spending Friday night on a date with Whitney, I’m at the bar with some other people, not with my best friend, who I obviously wish I was spending time with.”

“I get that,” I admit. “And I had felt that with you. You’d make comments about it, but I was always like, ‘What can I do? She’s my girlfriend.’”

“Even if it was just a girlfriend or boyfriend, I would be upset. And now, it’s much more. Jesus fucking Christ, this has got to be the most complicated situation ever. What the fuck are we supposed to do? What the fuck is the dinner table going to look like when you’re over, and my mother is sitting across from her gay ex-baby-daddy, and his partner, who she’s met because he was my best friend, and is now fucking my dad?”

He stops himself.

“Sorry. I’m not saying that to be mean, Jesse. I know it came out that way, but part of me, that’s what it feels like.”

I’m stunned he’s thinking there was something wrong with what he said, and that, along with this entire conversation, gives me some fucking hope that we can really fix this. Hope that I want to believe isn’t misguided.

“It didn’t sound mean, Ty. It sounded like a legit concern.”

We’re quiet.

“But at the same time,” Ty adds, “as mad as I am at you…and him…and I am fucking mad…” His expression is as serious as it gets, those thick eyebrows arched, his neck and jaw tense. This is what he gets like when he’s complaining about crap that goes down at work. He takes a breath, as though he wants to curb that rage. “I don’t fault you for loving him. I fault you for getting in it to begin with. I fault him for the same thing, but what can you do? What are we going to do?”

“That’s a good question. I definitely don’t think we have a manual to help us out with this. But I still want to be your friend, Ty.”

“I don’t think it’s that easy.”

The despair in his tone only makes the hopelessness feel that much more painful. I can see what he’s saying, and it’s something I’ve felt too. No matter where we go from here, it won’t be the same. It can’t be, but I don’t want to lose him. And I feel like a selfish bastard because I want them both—Eric and Ty—in my life. And Ty’s expressing my own fear that maybe I can’t have that.

“Ty, I care about you.”

“I care about you too, Jesse. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be in here. But this is such a big what the fuck? I don’t know. As I told Eric, I’m willing to play it by ear and see how the fuck we manage this, but I’m hurt.”

“I’m sorry.”

“If only sorrys made life easier.”

So fucking true.

“I want some space from you guys. I need to fucking process all this, but I couldn’t go on without actually talking to you about it. Would have driven me crazy. Give me some time, okay?”

I’m amazed he’s this reasonable about it, and I’m more than willing to pay whatever penance is required to maintain what, for me, is a very special relationship.

“I don’t fucking know what there is to figure out,” he adds. “If there is anything to figure out. But just to get my head on straight.”

“Again, Ty, I am so fucking sorry.”

Funny that I was the one who was trying to get Eric to cut it out with the sorrys months earlier.

“It doesn’t change the fact that I can’t order three extra-large pizzas and spend the night drinking and stuffing my face with food while complaining about this shit with my buddy Jesse.”

I wish I could hug him right now, but I can tell he’s not ready for that, and I don’t have a right to ask that of him.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he continues. “I’m totally going to order the pizzas and drink, but on my own.”

I smirk at the joke, and as he sees my expression, he starts to smile too but fights it into a frown.

It’s not great, but this is the best we can do right now.