“This has been a long road.”

Nobody knew that better than Vince. I’d cursed the project manager in my thoughts many times, but ultimately he’d managed to pull the team together to execute my vision and the client’s specifications. A little piece of the Singapore skyline had changed forever because of him.

I held up my glass. “It sure has. To all of us,” I toasted them. The local beer was good—and this was the first time I’d indulged since flying over here. I didn’t tend to drink much anyway, but I hadn’t wanted to make the jet lag any worse or interfere with my ability to think clearly.

The biggest perk and drawback of being part of a small firm like mine was that we were involved in every step of the process. If I left for a bigger firm—of whom there were plenty in New York City—that wouldn’t happen. I’d just be designing all day long, and never seeing how my designs got bastardized further down the line.

After years of drafting on computers, the chance to actually get involved in the hands-on was so damn welcome. The internship period was the most painful for an architect, unless you were the kind of weirdo who liked drawing tiny details over and over all day long. We didn’t do headline-grabbing skyscrapers, but what we did, we did well. This hotel was going to be a pleasant and beautiful place to stay.

I’d been avoiding thinking about the next project to begin all week. I was never gonna make principal before fifty if I turned down projects. That was just the way it had to be.

This was a time to celebrate construction drawing to a close. From here on out, it was just finishing details, and everything had been successfully sourced. Vince was in charge of making sure all the subcontractors came together to deliver and install everything correctly, but there was no more design work to do.

“Cheers!” someone called out, and everyone drank. We’d taken turns toasting ourselves all evening. Good thing we were at my hotel bar. They’d been accommodating of me, since I’d tried to insist I couldn’t go out partying. Instead, they’d brought the party to me.

“I’m happy to forget about this week,” said Vince with a laugh, clapping my shoulder. “You’ve been on fire, though. We couldn’t have pulled through without you.”

“Thanks,” I said with a grin and toasted him for another sip.

“But you look a million miles away. Looking forward to getting home?”

I nodded. It was more than that—so much more. The week had indeed passed in a blur of site meetings, last-minute drafting until late at night, and then redrafting in the morning when the fucking construction crew fucked up. I drew a breath and let go of my resentment over that. It was over now.

But I’d spent the week thinking of Kev in all those few spare moments. Even my favorite Singaporean foods couldn’t pull me out of my funk. Nothing tasted like kissing Kev, and no comfy hotel duvet was like snuggling into him at night.

I had to face the fact that I’d fallen hard and fast. Way harder than was smart, and way faster than was believable. I’d taken my time to get to know Hugh—our love had been the kind that slowly grew over months.

What I had with Kev? It felt like I’d known him my whole damn life and just picked up where we left off when we first met.

“Are you coming back when we hand over the keys?”

“You’ve got to!” called someone else, leaning over Vince and giving me a thumbs-up.

I normally tried to be there for that meeting, when we celebrated what we’d accomplished and I could see what everything looked like totally finished, dusted, and polished.

“Bringing anyone? A new wife?” Vince added with a sly smile. When I stared, he shrugged. “You have that look like you miss someone.”

“Yeah, I do,” I said slowly, then shook my head. It was that usual conversation where guys bragged about their wives and those traveling tried not to say that they missed them, in a manly way.

This was the personal phase of a work relationship, when I couldn’t change the subject back to the project at hand. I had nothing to hide behind.

“I’m sort of single,” I told him with a shake of my head. “So I’d be surprised if I got married before this place is ready. I’d better not!” I added, laughing.

He hastily rapped the bar top, even if it wasn’t wooden. “From your lips to God’s ear. But, dude. Sort of single?”

I didn’t want them thinking I was playing a few people at once, whether they were thinking of girls or guys. “We’re going on dates, but not really dating.”

Vince hummed and nodded. “Congrats, man. Good luck with it. What’s she like?”

It took all I had not to brag about Kev. I knew the chances were slim I’d ever get in trouble for promoting a homosexual lifestyle. I wasn’t exactly hiding myself in the office, either. But on a construction site? “One of the kindest, most optimistic, and most driven people I’ve met,” was all I said.

“Cheers to that.”

More toasting, more drinking, and my mind was wandering far too much for my own good. I was feeling guilty about my non-answer, and about shrugging out of answering.

If I was shooting to make partner someday, or even own my own firm… well, what would happen if it became public knowledge? I wasn’t living in the closet, but with my sexuality on display on Wikipedia or somewhere, what the hell would happen to projects like this? And the next one?

It was a thorny mess of issues I’d just avoided addressing in the last five or more years. Plus, nobody cared about the sexuality of the junior architect stuck behind a computer day in and day out. It was only out here, in the field, where I’d fought so hard to get to, that it mattered.

Telling people was ripping a Band-Aid off, and I wasn’t ready for that. I couldn’t very well stick it back on again afterward.

I made my excuses after another hour or so, shaking hands over and over again before I finally managed to peel myself away from the whole group.

I paced the elevator as I waited to arrive at my floor. I hadn’t even had more than two beers despite my pretenses of drinking to socialize, so it wasn’t even the urge to move around that so often came with being drunk. I was just restless after being cooped up in offices or hunched over my laptop for most of the week, troubleshooting this critical last structural construction phase.

I wasn’t exactly feeling social, but I needed to do something. “Fuck this,” I muttered by the time I got to my room. I felt like going for a run, but at this hour? No chance. On the other hand, the hotel had a gym… and a pool.

Now that I was thinking of swimming, I remembered throwing my swimsuit into my suitcase at the last moment. Nobody else was likely to be around at this hour. Though I hadn’t deliberately held back from drinking, I was now glad I hadn’t, so I could safely go in by myself without risking a stupid drowning incident.

Most visitors to this hotel were here for business, so the bar was busy right now and I was willing to bet the pool was quiet.

Or, I could entertain myself some other way. I caught myself glancing at the clock and doing math to figure out what time it was in New York City. I was going to see Kev soon enough. Why the hell did I need to call him now? He was busy with new classes, no doubt. Setting up a whole new life for himself.

And I was proud of him for it. Seeing him go for what he wanted inspired me to do the same, however uncomfortable it might be in the short-term.

Swimming was a much better idea.

I changed into my swimsuit, wrapped up in the hotel bathrobe, and shoved the one-size-fits-all hotel slippers on before grabbing my towel. At the last moment, I remembered my room key. Just as well—it would be pretty embarrassing to parade in front of my coworkers, bare legs and all, to get another key from the front desk.

The chlorine-thick air greeted me before I was even in the pool hall. By the time I chose a locker for my stuff and padded across the spotless, dry tiles toward the pool, my lungs were protesting.

Still, a vigorous swim would get my heart working and maybe take the edge off my anger and guilt. As I set off swimming laps, I indulged in some of the anger that had stewed since that casual chat about my “wife” an hour or two ago. I hated pretending I was straight, or even just lying by omission. Plus, it made me feel like I was hiding Kev. And I was, if I let myself think about it.

Two strokes quicker than my usual speed, I reached the end of the pool, turned, and set off again in a backstroke.

I don’t have to tell anyone a thing, I reminded myself as my breathing settled into a quick, deep rhythm. I didn’t owe the world an explanation of my sexuality or romantic life. I sure as hell hadn’t dragged my problems into the office with me when I’d been lucky enough to score and keep the internship despite all the other hell going on in my life at the time. There was no reason to make a big deal of it now.

Except there was, and I had the feeling that reason wouldn’t take kindly to being told I couldn’t talk about him. Quite rightly, too. I’d be pissed off if he were still in his old job and tried to hide my existence. I’d want people to know he was mine, and vice versa.

Wait, no. That was not a parallel, and now I was jealous about some hypothetical man… jealous over a man I had no right to claim as my own.

I groaned as I smacked the back of my hand on the concrete side of the pool. “Motherfucker!” At least I was alone, so I didn’t have to apologize for my French to any small children.

I clung to the edge of the pool at first, and then trod water awkwardly as I rubbed my hand. I really should pay more attention to where I was going.

Oddly appropriate. That was how I’d found myself in this situation with Kev. I hadn’t really paid attention to my destination until I’d passed the place I’d thought we were going. And now we couldn’t get off this ride—and I didn’t want to.

I was lonely, though. That was the truth behind the gnawing ache, more so than either guilt or anger. I just wanted Kev here, by my side. Whether or not I was supposed to want that was irrelevant.

My career had never been stacked against my love life before, and I’d never considered that I couldn’t just add love to my existing life without making changes. That fact seemed so obvious now, and if I’d known it beforehand, I sure as hell wouldn’t have started this.

But then I wouldn’t have met Kev, and I’d choose to do it again knowing that.

I had a foot each in two worlds which seemed incompatible. Now they were slipping apart from each other. Which foot would I pick up?

I kicked off from the end wall of the pool again, and I swam.