Sebastian’s house was small, sure—but even after being in Colby’s house and the beautiful hotel room for the bachelor party, there was nothing prettier than the morning sunlight coming in through the big window in Sebastian’s kitchen.

We were sitting at his small kitchen table, sun streaming inside as we sipped on fresh coffee, and I couldn’t really think of anywhere more beautiful to be. Sebastian had cracked the window open, and the breeze slowly came through as I watched a bird perch on the young tree out front.

“I can’t believe you get to look at this every day,” I said, shaking my head.

“Hm?” he said, smiling up at me.

“This view, this beautiful light,” I said, gesturing toward the window. “God, this place is so much more incredible than I’d have ever expected. Ellisville, I mean—not your house. Though I like that, too.”

Sebastian was suppressing a laugh as he watched me nearly put my foot in my mouth.

“It is the nicest part of this little house,” he agreed, gazing out the window. “Nothing like the spectacular views Colby has, but it’s peaceful.”

“And you just get to see that every day. I look out at a dumpster and a worn-down street back in LA.”

Sebastian shrugged. “I don’t get to see this every day. Usually by now, I’d be four hours into a shift at the diner, actually.”

I reached out and put my hand on his. “Well, today you get to see it,” I said. “Hey—we should go to go to the park,” I offered, finishing off the last of my coffee.

“I can’t; I’m sorry,” Sebastian said

“What? Come on, you said you have the day off,” I protested. I nodded toward the window. “It’s too nice outside not to. You can’t tell me I’m wrong there.”

He smiled sadly, nodding. “You’re not wrong,” he said. “But I promised Mom I would come over today. I need to bring her groceries, and I also said I would help her move boxes in the garage today. She’s got some old chessboard buried somewhere in ancient boxes, and she needs me to find it.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m sure she’ll make me stay for dinner afterward. But you should go to the park with Jelly. Don’t let my boring schedule hold you back, by any means.”

I realized now why Sebastian had seemed a little off this morning. He must have been dreading doing this for his mom, and I couldn’t blame him—it sounded like a nuisance of a task.

“How about this,” I proposed, holding up a finger. “I can come over and help you move the horrible, heavy boxes. It’ll go twice as fast, and then you can use me as an excuse to get out of dinner. Tell her we have to discuss some urgent groomsman matters or something.”

Sebastian’s eyes shot up to me, and he shook his head quickly. “No,” he said. “Not a good idea. Trust me, you don’t want to spend time around my mom.”

“What?” I asked. “How bad could it be? I’m no stranger to helping out and certainly no stranger to moving boxes around.”

“Yeah, but you don’t know her,” he said, giving me a firm glance. “She’s… not exactly nice to me. She loves me, but… she’s kind of a ‘my way or the highway’ type of person.”

I shrugged. “So what? Worst thing that happens is she’s not that nice to me. I can handle that. I want to be there to help you, Sebastian. It’s not really about her.”

Sebastian was leaning against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed. He suddenly looked downright upset, not just a little off.

I got up, crossing over toward him. “Hey,” I said softly, pulling his arms until he uncrossed them, and then I clutched his hands in mine. “It’s okay, Sebastian.”

“You don’t get it,” he said, his voice a little loud. “She’s… she can be… homophobic, Zane. You don’t deserve that, and you don’t want to be around it, trust me.”

I looked him in the eye. “All the more reason for me to be there with you,” I said. “Because I don’t know if you know this, but you don’t deserve that treatment from her, either. She’s her own person, and she is entitled to any opinion she wants, but she cannot be hurtful to you, Sebastian.”

He shook his head, looking out the window, narrowing his eyes in the bright sunlight. “I know you’re right. Obviously I do. But… she’s still my mom, you know? I can’t… I can’t just leave her behind.”

“And you don’t have to,” I said. “You can help her out, and of course you will always still love her. But if it would make you feel better to have me there with you—y’know, some small kind of moral support or something, I’m more than glad to do it. I want to do it.”

He looked back at me, finally, and searched my face. A few times, I thought for sure he was about to say something, but in the end, he just let out a long sigh.

“Fine,” he said. “You’re… you’re right, even though I still think it’s a bad idea. But I can’t lie and say I wouldn’t like you to be there with me.”

“Good,” I said, gathering Sebastian’s hands in mine and bringing them up to my lips. I kissed his hands, then leaned down toward him to kiss his lips.

Sebastian’s mother’s house didn’t have the same kind of quaint and homey feel that Sebastian’s own house did.

As we drove up to the place, Sebastian explained that this was the house he grew up in. It was fairly run-down on the outside—not ugly, by any means, but just weathered from many years of existence. There were small, sweet touches where I instantly saw Sebastian’s influence, though. A few well-kept flower bushes near the front door, a little hanging sign that said welcome by the door.

When we approached the front door, I finally began to feel the nerves that I was sure Sebastian had been feeling all morning, though. I had kept telling myself that we were only here to move boxes, nothing more—but now, being faced with the prospect of meeting Sebastian’s mom felt more than a little intimidating.

What had I gotten myself into?

When Sebastian swung open the screen door and then the door behind it, I didn’t immediately see anyone inside. It was certainly darker in there than it was in Sebastian’s house, and I could hear the sounds of a TV from a different room.

“Is that you, Seb?” a woman’s voice called.

“It’s me,” he called back as he shut the front door. “I brought… ah, I brought a friend to help me with the boxes, Mom.”

Sebastian eyed me, nodding toward the next room, then led me forward toward the living room of the house, where his mom was sitting on the couch, watching TV.

“Mom, this is Zane. He offered to come help me today.”

“Oh!” she said, with some surprise. “What’s that name? Kane? Oh, and you’ve brought a little dog?”

“Zane,” I said, stepping over to shake her hand. “And… yes, this is Jelly—Sebastian told me it would be all right to bring her?”

She gave me a polite smile, nodding as she studied me. “I do like pugs. Zane? Like… zany?”

“It’s short for Milzane, which is my last name,” I said.

“Ah. Well, I’m Sandy. Nice to meet you.”

As she nodded, still seemingly disapproving of my name, my nerves finally set in for good. I felt like I was interrupting something, almost—like Sandy had been inside watching something important, or that she didn’t like that Sebastian had brought someone along. For a few minutes, she and Sebastian caught up, talking about things and people that I wasn’t familiar with.

I was happy for the break. I was able to simply take everything in. There was a small upright piano at the corner of the room, which I could totally see Sebastian playing as a child. There were also plenty of framed photos of Sebastian, most of them older, formal ones, likely high school senior portraits and pictures from family events. Sebastian was the standout of every frame, looking beautiful as always—the man knew how to smile for a picture.

I also saw that his mom was watching Stetson Heights, one of my absolute favorite movies of all time. It was a lesser-known Western movie from the seventies, forgotten about by most people. During a lull in conversation, I finally spoke up again.

“This is one of my absolute favorites,” I said, nodding toward the TV. “I really wish more people knew about the movie.”

“Oh,” she said, her eyes going wide, “you know Stetson?”

I nodded. “Absolutely. It’s one of Miller’s best performances. And that ending….”

“Don’t I know it,” she said, and I saw her smile for the first time. “I still don’t know how they did it. That explosion looks completely real.”

“It looks incredibly real. I think it had to be real pyrotechnics.”

“It had to be,” she said, shaking her head and gazing back at the TV.

And finally, I felt some modicum of relief. I had made some connection to Sandy, no matter how small. And she no longer looked at me like I was an insect in her home.

“All right,” Sebastian said, “Mom, where’s the chessboard? What boxes do you need us to move?”

“Well, let me show you,” she said. I realized then that getting up off the couch was a slow process for Sandy—she had a cane at the side of the couch that she reached for immediately while Sebastian took her hand to help guide her.

She certainly wasn’t old—couldn’t have been that far into her sixties—but it was clear she had some limited mobility. Suddenly I realized why she needed Sebastian so much. It made sense that he would help bring her groceries. Getting around a store would take ten minutes for Sebastian, while it might have taken forty-five for his mom. And I wasn’t sure if she could drive.

I followed them to a short hallway that opened up into the one-car garage. It was used entirely for storage, even though I’d seen an old, dusty car sitting out on the front driveway. The garage itself was chock full of boxes, knickknacks, and holiday decorations.

“Well,” she said, “I think the chessboard might be in one of those boxes right at the bottom of this stack, which is the problem.”

She pointed to a tower of about six cardboard boxes, slumped on one another. There were three towers in a row just like this, all sandwiched next to one another.

“Wow,” Sebastian said, seeing the task in front of him. “Mom… are you sure you need this chessboard?”

“I’m telling you, Seb, it looks exactly like the one I saw on Antiques Roadshow a few nights ago. Danbury, it was called. I really think it might be worth something. I’ve gotta get it out.”

“But…” he said, looking at the boxes again.

“Hey, we can do it,” I said, in my best cheery voice. “I’ve had to go through boxes like this so many times at work. They were full of paperwork, too, not household items and decorations. This should be no problem for us to knock out.”

“Where is it that you work, Zane?” Sandy asked me, leaning on her cane.

“I’m an accountant at a midsize firm,” I replied. “I live in Los Angeles.”

“Oh, wow,” she said with one nod. “I see. Well, accountancy is a damn fine field to get into. Very stable.”

“It’s steady work,” I replied, happy to find that there were at least two things that Sandy didn’t hate about me off the bat.

“Well, all right, I’ll leave you two,” she said. “Do try to be careful with the boxes. Things that may look like junk to you are most definitely not junk to me.”

“We’ll keep it safe,” I replied as she disappeared back into the house.

I took in a deep breath, looking at the pile again.

“I’m so sorry,” Sebastian said. “You can leave if you want. I told you this was going to be an annoying project.”

“Are you kidding?” I responded, already reaching up toward the highest box. “Let’s do this.”

Sebastian smiled lightly as I handed him the first box, and we got on our way.

A project that I thought would take two hours ended up only taking one, in the end. The garage was cramped, and eventually it became hard to find new space, but Sebastian and I worked well together, slowly checking through every box for a chessboard.

And Sandy had been right—the board was in the box at the very bottom of the second tower, sitting right at the top as soon as we got it open. I didn’t see the Danbury name anywhere on the board, and I wasn’t exactly convinced it was the vintage model Sandy thought it was, but nonetheless, she’d be happy to see it.

I high-fived Sebastian, and then we took a small break before beginning to stack all the boxes back up.

Finally, we finished, and though my arms were killing me, I felt a surge of satisfaction. Sebastian set the chessboard on a small ledge nearby, and I turned to smile at him, taking a deep breath.

“Job well done,” he said, smiling back.

“Likewise,” I said.

“Zane… thank you so much for coming,” Sebastian said, taking a step closer to me. “I know you didn’t have to do this. But it made everything so much better.”

“I’m glad to hear that. And your mom’s sweet.”

He snorted. “Yeah. Sweet. That’s one way to put it.”

I reached out, squeezing Sebastian’s waist. “Thank you for letting me come along. I’m having way more fun with you in a cramped garage than I would be anywhere else.”

He stared up at me, and even in the dingy light of the garage, his eyes seemed to sparkle. That same surge of affection rolled through me again—affection that I’d been feeling more and more toward Sebastian, and it still shocked me every time.

But I just loved spending time with this man. That was all there was to it. I hadn’t been lying—there was nowhere else I’d rather have been than with him all morning.

I pulled Sebastian close and leaned down to kiss him. And though we’d kissed many times at this point, something about this one felt special. Maybe it was that we were in his childhood home, or maybe it was the satisfaction of being part of Sebastian’s real life today.

I felt like I was getting a fuller picture of his everyday life, and I only liked him more. I kissed him, slowly but sweetly, wanting him more than ever. And he wrapped his arms around me, sighing, and it was the confirmation I needed that he felt just like I did.

“Sebastian,” a voice came cutting through the room like a dart through fog. Sebastian pulled away from me instantly, jumping back.

His mom was in the doorway to the garage, glaring our way. “Sebastian,” she repeated, her tone harsh. “Don’t kiss some guy under my roof. What is this?”

“Oh God,” I said under my breath. “I’m sorry, Sandy, we didn’t know you were there.”

She wouldn’t even look at me, though. She only looked at Sebastian.

“...last thing I need right now…” she was saying, looking at Sebastian like he had somehow failed her.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” he said, his voice low. His face had turned red, and while he tried to remain composed, to me, it was clear that he was upset.

“Sebastian, you’re fine—” I said, reaching out toward him, but he held up an arm, keeping me away. “What?”

Sandy turned away again, heading back into the house.

“Just don’t,” he said, his voice stern. He picked up the last box we had to put on top of the stack. He reached up, trying to fit it up top, but struggled with the height.

“Here, let me help—”

“No!” he said, shoving the box back and walking to the other side of the garage. It was like he had recoiled at my touch.

Suddenly Sandy appeared at the doorway again, the same bitter gaze on her face. “I think we’re about done in here, today. Just hand me the chessboard, please.”

Sebastian and I both reached for it on the ledge at the same time. I pulled back, thinking that he had gotten it, and the board fell to the ground with a brittle crack. Jelly jumped back, waking up from the nap she’d been taking in the corner of the garage.

“No!” Sandy called out, watching as the board shattered into shards of wood, the pieces spilling out from inside the wood enclosure. “Oh, the board—”

“Oh God—I’m so sorry—”

“Could have been a Danbury—could have been worth something!” Sandy was saying, trying but failing to bend over and pick up the pieces.

“I’ve got it, Mom,” Sebastian said. “Just… just go, Zane,” he told me, looking up at me with complete defeat in his eyes.

I took in a deep breath, guilt filling me. But I knew he was right. There was nothing else I could do in that moment. I walked back out through the door and made my way to the front yard, Jelly pulling back on her leash the whole time. I knew she wanted to go back to Sebastian. That was all she ever wanted.

Sebastian had driven us here, but I’d been paying attention to the route—I knew if I walked back, it might take an hour, but it seemed like the best solution. So I started off down the road, keeping to the sidewalk, hoping to God I had been right about the directions.

But I stopped when I’d gotten halfway down the street. My guilt had been slowly morphing into anger—anger about everything I’d just witnessed.

I didn’t care at all how Sandy treated me. But seeing Sebastian crumble like that had been downright infuriating. And when I turned back, seeing that Sebastian had come out to the front yard of the house, I knew I had to go back.

I made my way down the street again, half expecting Sebastian to start up his car and drive away fast when he saw me approaching. But as I got closer, I saw that even though he’d gotten inside the car, he hadn’t turned it on.

And when I was closer still, I saw that he was in the driver’s seat, alone, with his head in his hands. Jelly let out an excited little bark when we approached the car, and Sebastian looked up, seeing me outside the window, and gave me a bitter stare. I could see tears drying on his cheeks.

“Please,” I said out loud, even though I wasn’t sure if he could hear me through his window. “Please, talk to me, Sebastian.”

For a moment he didn’t move an inch, just looking up at me with that same, defeated stare, but then he actually got out, closing the driver’s side door behind him and leaning against the car.

“What do you want, Zane,” he asked, his voice deader than I’d ever heard it.

“What?” I asked. “What do you mean, what do I want? I want to talk about what the fuck just happened in there.”

He shrugged, his face still expressionless. “What is there to say?”

“Well, for starters, you can tell me why the fuck you put up with being treated that way,” I said. I had meant to be more polite, softer, but I couldn’t help the emotion that came pouring out of me.

Sebastian just shook his head. “You don’t understand, Zane.”

“What don’t I understand?”

He hitched one shoulder up in a shrug. “She is the way she is. I’ve wished it was different my whole life, but it just isn’t.”

“For God’s sake, she doesn’t have to treat you like that, though.”

“It’s her house. She doesn’t want me kissing any guys in it.”

“Sure, of course, yes, it’s her house,” I said, throwing my hand up. “And if I’d known she was there, of course I wouldn’t have been kissing you. Some people don’t like public displays of affection, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But—”

“But what?” he interjected, shaking his head at me.

“But you know, full well, that if you had been doing that with a girl instead of a guy, your mom wouldn’t have reacted that way.”

Sebastian paused for a while before finally saying, “Of course. She would have been overjoyed if she found me doing that with a girl.”

“Exactly,” I said. “She… for God’s sake, Sebastian, she doesn’t respect you like an adult. I only had to be there for an hour to see it. You don’t deserve that. How are you ever going to have a life of your own, a boyfriend, a husband, if you’re treated poorly like that?”

I saw then that a single tear was running down Sebastian’s cheek, even though he was clearly trying to fight it. His arms were still crossed, and he still kept his gaze hard, but it was as if I could see him cracking right in front of my eyes.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

“Sebastian, you know why,” I said. “Because I give a shit. I… care about you.”

“Why does it matter?” Sebastian asked. “What does it matter to you what my shitty little life is like? What does it matter to you what would happen if I got a boyfriend or husband?”

“Of course it matters to me,” I said, incredulous. “I… want you to have the best life that you can, Sebastian. And just so you know, you weren’t the only one in there who had to deal with that. I haven’t even mentioned how it made me feel to be looked at like I was an insect—”

“It doesn’t matter, Zane,” Sebastian said, finally raising his voice. Tears were coming down his face now, harder, but instead of looking sad, he looked infuriated.

“I don’t know why you keep saying that—”

“Because you’re leaving,” he called, out, his arms flying into the air. “You’re fucking leaving, Zane. In less than a week, you’ll fly off, full and happy from the wedding, and disappear to fucking Los Angeles, where you can live your perfect life and forget about me and my sad little story and get back to normal.”

I stood there as if I’d just been hit by lightning, shocked and frozen in place.

“Working anything out between us doesn’t matter. And my mother’s opinion of what you and I do doesn’t either, because you aren’t even going to be a part of my life come next week. So I don’t know what it matters to you what I’ll say to my mom once I get a boyfriend or a goddamn husband. Because I know full fucking well that person won’t be you, Zane.”

I felt a lurch in my stomach and for a moment thought that I might be sick. I couldn’t process the words Sebastian was saying, and yet every single one hit me like an icy spear to the face. There were so many things I wanted to say, wished I could say, but it felt like my throat had been caught in a vise grip—choked up, closed off, broken.

Sebastian was just standing there, shaking his head. “Listen, I’m sorry I brought you over here. I’m sorry you saw what my actual life is like. And I’m sorry… I’m sorry you had to deal with any of this. But I need to get the hell out of here, Zane. Do you want a ride home or not?”

“Sebastian—I can’t—”

Sebastian had gotten into his car, slammed the door shut, and rolled down the window. He was looking up at me with those same eyes, but all of the sparkle was gone.

“I’ll… see you at the rehearsal, Zane. I’m so, so fucking sorry.”

He waited a few more moments, waiting to see if I wanted a ride. I knew I could never take it and was sure that I would throw up if I had to be trapped in a hot vehicle with a man I wanted but couldn’t have.

When he put the car in reverse, it was as if finally, in the heat of the moment, my throat opened up long enough for me to say what I needed to.

“I care about you so much, Sebastian,” I said, realizing only then that I had begun to cry, too.

He squeezed his eyes shut, burying his head in his hands.

“I care about you, too,” he said, his voice muffled. “More than I ever should have.”

A minute later, he was gone, driving off slowly down the road.

In a daze, I started down the sidewalk again, only half feeling like I was in my body. I wanted to lash out, to run after Sebastian, to do anything to be in the same place as him again.

I wanted to apologize, to hold him close, to say everything I couldn’t say in the moment.

I was completely fucking obliterated. But the problem nagging in the back of my mind—the one that had been there the whole time—was that I knew Sebastian was right.

Sure, he was emotional,and heated and overreacting. But the kernel of everything he’d said had been right. I’d been pushing away the thought of leaving Ellisville, as if it were a day that would never come.

But the day was going to come, very, very soon.

And I realized then that what I was doing—acting like that day would never come—wasn’t only hurting me, it was hurting him, too. I had thought that pretending it didn’t exist would make things more fun and light and happy, when in reality, I had just been delaying the inevitable.

How had I not known that it would blow up right in my fucking face?

I just hadn’t had any idea how big the hole in my heart would feel without Sebastian. How could he have made such a cozy home there so quickly? As I walked back, I felt like a part of me had been torn out. The same feeling of deep loneliness—truly feeling alone—returned to me for the first time in weeks.

And it was only then that it truly hit me how much Sebastian had changed my life for the better in Ellisville.

I’d come here thinking only about Michael, pitying myself, really believing that I may be alone for the rest of my life. And like some magician’s trick, slowly and surely, being around Sebastian had all but made those feelings disappear. He certainly hadn’t had any responsibility to me—I was just one of four groomsmen, here for a while to try to make the wedding better.

But instead, Sebastian had invited me in. He’d comforted me when I’d needed it most. And slowly, I’d opened up to him.

Only now did everything about my real life come crashing back to me. And I realized how totally empty everything felt without Sebastian in my life.