The sun went behind the clouds in the window. I’d been lying in bed since the call with Declan. I assumed he called, but since I’d left my phone on mute, and not looked at it once—a testament to my willpower, or my despair, I wasn’t sure which—I had no idea.

Daddy.

The little girl—Sasha—had called him daddy.

And who was the woman? Presumably his wife. He was married.

Married would have been bad enough, but he was married to a woman.

And all that talk about honesty.

What the fuck? What the actual fuck?

I didn’t know what to think. Except that I’d fallen for a bunch of shit again. It pissed me off to no end.

Just when I’d admitted to myself that I’d fallen in love. And that hurt. I could feel a couple of tears leak out of the corner of my eyes, but more than anything, I was pissed.

Even though part of me was seething with anger at being lied to again, the other part of me was just worn out. I didn’t want to move from where I was.

So I went to sleep.

Maybe this would all be better in the morning.

I rolled over and willed myself to sleep. If I slept, I didn’t have to think, or feel.

Which was fine with me.

* * *

The next morning, I called Tibby early, before she left for work.

“I’m not coming in today,” I said.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

“Worst day I’ve had in a long time,” I said. “I’m a damn mess, and I need a sick day.”

“Well, you never take any, so have at it.”

Tibby was a good friend—she knew to leave me be. I’d tell her eventually, but I couldn’t tell her now. I just couldn’t.

“Thanks, Tib. I’m sorry for the last minute—”

“Stop right there. It’s fine. We’ll be fine. You take whatever time you need, and I’ll be here if you need anything.”

“Thanks.” I said.

About two hours after I talked to her, the doorbell rang. I shuffled down the stairs, and there was a delivery guy.

“Bryant Higgs?”

“Yes.”

“Here you go,” he said, handing me a box that was warm. “Have a great day!”

I went back to the kitchen and opened the box.

Strawberries and cream pancakes from Uprising Muffins. I smiled. This was all Tibby. It was one of our favorite breakfast places.

Food held no interest for me until right this moment, smelling those pancakes. I sat down and ate every bit.

I texted her after I finished.

You are the best friend evah. Love you.

Love you too. Call me when you’re ready. She responded immediately.

I didn’t text back. Tibby understood.

Then I went back to bed.

* * *

Two days later, I was tired of myself. Yes, this sucked. Yes, it hurt like a bitch. Yes, I was mad at myself.

But none of that would do me any good. It was Wednesday, and I wanted to go to the games tonight. I did not, however, want to run into Declan.

He’d been calling and texting since Sunday. The one today said:

My dad is gone. I’m wrapping up here and I’ll be home by next week. Please say you’ll see me.

I didn’t respond. Just like I hadn’t to any of his earlier messages. I wasn’t ready to speak to him. However, that meant I’d probably be able to get out and play some basketball tonight without my abject relationship failure staring me in the face.

“How the fuck is this getting me anywhere in my wish, Dhameer?” I asked out loud. I’d forgotten that this whole damn mess started because a djinn said I had to change and improve my life, or some shit, and then I’d get my heart’s desire. My fixation on that faded once I realized that Graham wasn’t my happily ever after.

And frankly, I’d been so happy spending time with Declan, I hadn’t even thought of it since the beginning of our relationship.

But I thought of it now.

“What the hell? What is this teaching me, exactly?” I remembered that Tib said she’d had to learn and grow. “I’m growing, all right. Pissed and bitter. That’s how I’m growing.”

The silent house offered me no answer.

“Fuck this,” I said, and got up. I was going to shower, take off the clothes I’d been wearing for the past however many days, and go back to life.

Without a djinn, or Declan, or any of the shit that was dragging me down.

“It’s taught you to be honest, has it not?”

I whipped around to see the djinn in all his sparkly glory, hovering in my kitchen.

“Yeah, and what a price I’ve paid! It’s one fucking mess after the other! You said, if I change, I’ll get my heart’s desire! I’ve done all kinds of changing, and what do I meet? Some guy who’s married! To a woman! With a kid!”

Dhameer had his arms crossed, and he merely watched as I worked myself up into a complete fit.

“Isn’t there some kind of limit on how much hard knocks learning someone has to do at once? Because I could do without this! Not to mention that some kind of warning would have been nice.”

“There are no warnings from on high somewhere in life,” his voice was calm. “You have to develop your own warnings. Listening to your inner voice—”

“My inner voice! Oh, now I have to find that, too? This is bullshit!”

I threw my hands up and stomped up the stairs. “Keep your damn wish! I’m doing just fine with falling into shit all by myself. I don’t need your kind of help!”

There was no answer.

Dhameer was really unsatisfying in a fight. Damn the man. Djinn. Whatever. I showered and headed out.

I was a little late, so I didn’t have time to answer any awkward questions about Declan. I was glad because at the moment I couldn’t say anything good.

Nor did I want to out him as leading a double life. Mad as I was, it wasn’t my place.

“Shit, man, what’s up with you? You’re on fire tonight,” Steve said.

“Rough week at work. Can’t punch clients,” I lied.

He laughed. “And people always think the lawyer has the short end of the stick.”

“Sometimes, but not this week,” I forced a laugh.

“I wouldn’t go up against you,” he said.

By the time we finished, I didn’t feel like there was a bubble of rage that was just waiting for the right moment to burst. I was able to go home and get the first good night of sleep since I’d heard Sasha call Declan ‘Daddy’.

I reminded myself to work out more often. Running was good, but there was something satisfying about playing like this on a team.

No matter what happened with Declan and me, I wasn’t going to hibernate. I wasn’t going to drop this league thing, and I wasn’t going to sulk one God-damned moment longer.

I had a smile on my face as I fell asleep.

I went into work on Thursday and Friday. Tibby asked me if I wanted to talk, and I told her that I wasn’t ready. I’d decided that I wasn’t going to give up on anything, but that didn’t mean I needed to pick at the wound.

So when the weekend rolled around, I felt like I could handle it. I wouldn’t be fantastic, but I wouldn’t be a complete mess, either.

I’d ordered Chinese from my favorite place and cued up a couple of movies on Netflix.

While I was waiting, Xavier called.

“Hey man, what’s up?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be living on a cloud of love or something? You back already?”

“Yeah, we just got back, and—”

“You talked to Tib.”

“Course I did. You should too. What’s going on?”

“Life sucks ass right now.”

I could almost see X’s shrug. “It does indeed sometimes. Did I hear Tib right? Did you meet Dhameer?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, and he’s an unhelpful pain in my ass. I hope you heard that!” I yelled at the room.

Xavier burst out laughing. “If I wasn’t sure that you’d met him that would give it away. Once I’d remembered that I’d met him, I yelled at my empty place, too. The glitter never stopped, man. It was like he dumped buckets of the shit.”

“A little help would be nice. I haven’t seen that much glitter, myself.” I knew I sounded like a little kid who lost his favorite toy. Although in my defense, I’d lost a hell of a lot more than that. I also admitted to myself that I would have appreciated more glitter. It would mean Dhameer was around, trying to help me.

“According my beloved, you can only help yourself. We never listen to people who are trying to help us.”

“Maybe you don’t,” I grumbled.

“No, I sure as hell don’t. But listen, I didn’t call to talk about genie smart asses. I wanted to know if you wanted to come up, now that Liv and I are back in the real world.”

“I don’t know,” I said, a grin coming over my face. “Are you guys fit for the real world? You were pretty unfit the last time I saw you.”

“Don’t be hatin’,” X said mildly. “Not everyone can have my outstanding skills.”

I heard Olivia burst into laughter in the background.

“Listen, man, I’m serious. Anything you need, I’m here.”

“I appreciate it. But I’m good.”

“Well, that’s the thing. Tib says otherwise.”

I sighed. “She’s right, but there’s nothing I can do but get through it. If I just can’t stand myself anymore, I’ll come up and see you. Good enough?”

“Yeah. I’ll hold you to it. You get another month, at the most.”

He hung up. He wasn’t big on goodbyes.

Another month? I wouldn’t make it going on like this. I’d managed to put a Band-Aid on my hurts, but I knew that it was only temporary. I had to find a way to let go of my anger and move on.

Which sounded perfectly shitty. Not to mention, a shit ton of work I didn’t want to do.

Fuck it, I thought. No deep shit tonight. Tonight it was Chinese and Netflix.

* * *

When I got up Saturday, I could tell that I’d eaten too much Chinese. Even though they didn’t use MSG, I could always feel my fingers swell. I drank a huge glass of water and went for a run.

As I returned home, I could see there was someone sitting on my steps. I slowed, wanting to get a look—it was Declan.

He stood when he saw me and held out his hands. “Bryant, can we please talk?”

I shrugged. “What is there to talk about? You have a daughter. I’m guessing you’re married. I’m not sure how you square that with living out here, but I don’t care. I don’t have time or energy for people who lie to me. You know, the people who aren’t honest?” I stressed the last word.

It was funny how in the last month, both the men I’d fallen for had shown up at my door, wanting to talk. Since I was the common denominator, I thought maybe I needed to look at me. Damn. Maybe I would need to talk to a therapist, or something. See what my asshole magnet was all about.

He winced. “Yes. You’re right. I wasn’t honest, but—”

“No. Don’t give me a yes, and then follow that with an excuse. Because that’s all it is. An excuse.”

“Then will you let me explain it to you? No excuses?”

I stared at him, wanting to stay angry. Then I sighed. “All right. Come in.”

He followed me in, and unlike when I had to do this before with Graham, I was a little nicer. “I’m going to grab some water, and then you can explain. You want some?”

“Yes, please.” He stopped, waiting in the living room.

I hurried to get a couple of glasses and told my heart to stop. I didn’t need it beating out of my chest.

Somehow, I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. It was going to make the hurt worse.

But that’s not how you managed. You heard the truth, and you handled it, and you moved forward. Learning to be honest meant you took the good with the bad. My ability to be honest was hard won, and I wasn’t going to give it up, even if the next half-hour or whatever hurt like hell. I took a breath, steeled myself, and went back in to the living room.

Declan was still standing where he’d stopped, staring at the fireplace.

“Here,” I said. “Sit down. Say what you need to say.”

He took the glass and sat down across from me. Not meeting my eyes, he took a long drink.

The silence stretched on.

I wasn’t going to break it. This wasn’t my story, nor was it my burden. I didn’t need to apologize or make excuses. So I stayed silent. I was proud of myself.

“I don’t even know where to start,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about how I wanted to tell you this, where the right place to begin was… and I’ve been going around in circles all week. I guess it starts in high school. You know what that’s like,” he looked at me then. “I didn’t tell anyone I was gay. I had a girlfriend. I was on the football team. In Indiana. There wasn’t any other way for me.” He sighed.

“Then I went to college, to Ohio State.”

“I thought your sisters confronted you in college,” I said, doing my level best to keep my voice neutral.

“They did. I denied it, vehemently. I’ll never forget how Addie, my oldest sister, looked at me. Like she knew I was lying. But I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t tell the truth.” He sighed, looking down.

Then he looked back up at me. “So, I still kept up the pretense. But I knew, and it was like I was dying inside. I think you know what that’s like, although I felt like the pressure was extreme. I played football my first two years, and there was no way in hell I could come out then. I wouldn’t have made it out of the locker room alive.

“My junior year, I got cut. I was fine with it because I was tired of getting my ass handed to me. I wasn’t bad, but I’m not a beast, and they don’t fuck around. I met Mariana, and we started dating. We dated the rest of college, and she was… well, I could be okay with her. I wasn’t myself, I didn’t want to be in a straight relationship, but she was nice. She was—is—a good person. I’m no different from anyone else. I took what seemed the best, and easiest path at the time. We got married two years after we graduated, and Sasha came a year after that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a daughter?” I asked.

“Because I would have to tell you all of this, and I wasn’t ready to. You have to understand something. Moving here has allowed me, for the first time in my entire life, to be exactly who I want to be. Who I am,” he added fiercely.

“You didn’t even try. That’s the complete opposite of honesty, and that’s your thing, remember?” I said.

“I know. I know,” he said again. “I felt like such a hypocrite! I’ve been kicking my own ass for days, weeks. I wanted to tell you—”

“But you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t.” He sighed. “Mari and I are separated. We have been for the past four years. Sasha is five so that gives you an idea of how long my marriage has been over.”

“Why aren’t you divorced?”

“Insurance.”

“What?”

“My father wasn’t the only sick one,” he said, his head falling. His voice broke. “Sasha was diagnosed with leukemia when she was two. Acute lymphocytic leukemia. She’s in remission right now, but it can come back at any time. I had to stay there, we had to look married. Otherwise, Sasha wouldn’t have had insurance. My little girl wouldn’t have lived,” he looked up, and there were tears in his eyes. “Once it was possible to get insurance with pre-existing conditions, I took a better job, and I moved away. Mari and I were already living separate lives. My mom knows, but she doesn’t want to accept it. My dad—well, we told him we were working things out. He was so angry at me for leaving Sasha. Both Mari and I tried to tell him that we needed more—but he told me I was a coward, and a shit father, and he threw me out of his house.”

Declan leaned back, sighing. “Mari is the one person who is not at fault here. She asked me point blank if I was gay when we split. I was so surprised. I didn’t do anything, didn’t have a secret boyfriend, nothing. She just said she knew. And she freed me. She told me to go. We’ve kept up the pretense for my family, and hers. But with my father passing—”

“I’m sorry, by the way,” I said, feeling like shit. “I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything—”

Declan waved his hand. “It’s all right. This is my shit to manage. But thank you. I feel horrible, Bryant. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t. It was—it just seemed like such a mess. I didn’t want to drag you into it. That’s why I completely understand how it feels to be free. For the first time in my life. Until I came here, right before I met you, I’d never been free. And you are the first person I’ve been with that has been completely, one-hundred percent my choice. Mine. Not because I was expected to be with someone, or felt I had to—I was with you because I wanted to be. Not to hide anything, or for any other reason than I—than you make me happy,” he amended.

Holy.

Shit.

What do you say to that? I didn’t even know where to start.

“How is Sasha?”

“She’s okay, but she’s been showing the symptoms of it again, the things we noticed right before she was diagnosed.”

“Did you see her a lot before you moved out here?”

He nodded. “Every day. I miss her, I miss her like you wouldn’t believe. With my dad, and her not doing well, it was so hard to be there, knowing I was leaving. And knowing that I hadn’t told you—”

“I wish you had,” I said. His pain, his honesty—and I was pretty sure this was as honest as it got—made me feel humble, and ashamed. Yes, I’d been hurt, and had pain. But it was nothing like this.

“This is my shit,” he said.

“When you’re with someone, you share the burden.” I said.

With those words, just like that, I forgave him. I knew. I knew what it felt like to have to hide, to feel you had no choice. Hadn’t my last relationship blown up because of all my ideas of what was expected? Hadn’t my whole life been a tale of caution, of being so careful, so that I wasn’t exposed, or found out?

All because I thought who I was, the person I was, somehow was wrong. So had Declan. I got up, and went over to him, taking him in my arms. He reached up, putting a hand on my face.

“I can’t believe you’re not tossing me out on my ass,” he said.

“How can I? I did the same thing you did, but you met me after all my shit blew up in my face.”

“So… what’s next?”

I shrugged. “How about you let me fix you something, and then after that… we’ll see?”

The hope that I saw in his face still held fear. “Bryant, now that you know, I can’t lie. I can’t go that long without seeing my little girl again. I have to be there. If it’s back—” he choked, his head dropping. Then he looked back up. “I can’t leave her—or Mari—to handle this on their own. I won’t. I know that’s a lot to ask, but I can’t lie anymore.”

“I know. I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

“Have you gone through cancer with someone? It’s the worse fucking thing you’ve ever done. I won’t be a good boyfriend sometimes,” he said.

“I’m not a good boyfriend sometimes. It’s life. Now come on. Let’s go see what there is to eat.”

We walked with our arms around one another’s waists into the kitchen, and I couldn’t believe how at peace I felt. This wouldn’t be easy. I would struggle with trust, and he would struggle with being a parent with one person, and a partner with the other.

But we would do this, and we’d do it together.