I got to Café Cordial early. I ordered a coffee and sat down to wait. I hadn’t eaten breakfast, and I might be pushing it with the coffee, because I was nervous.

Which I didn’t understand. Dhameer had said I’d get my wish—so what was there to be afraid of? Last night had been where the fear was.

My heart leapt as I saw Graham come in. He looked around, saw me, and oddly, glanced over his shoulder, and then made his way to where I sat.

I got up and hugged him.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey. Let me get a coffee,” he said, putting his coat on the chair opposite me. I watched him as he went back to the counter and ordered the complicated coffee that he loved. He was like the stereotype of a coffee shop customer, but he loved coffee. I loved that exacting part of him that had to have things as he liked them.

After some discussion, he moved to the end of the counter to wait. I was impatient for him to join me, but I was glad he was getting what he needed so we could talk without being interrupted.

Finally, an age it seemed—he came back and sat with me.

“So what did you want to talk about?” He asked.

I guess we weren’t beating around the bush. Well, I could respect that.

“I had dinner with my family last night,” I started.

“You do that a couple of times a month,” he interrupted. “So?”

“I invited them over to the house, and after dinner, I told them.”

“Told them what?”

He wasn’t going to make this easy on me. I deserved it. I shouldn’t have asked him to marry me without being willing to tell the world. Because that what marriage was, right?

“The truth. That I am gay, and that I asked you to marry me.”

Whatever he’d been expecting, that wasn’t it. He opened his mouth and then shook his head. “You actually said that? Told them, I’m gay?”

He looked like he didn’t believe me.

I couldn’t believe that I’d inspired so little confidence in the man I loved, and I felt like a shit.

“I told them that I’d asked the love of my life to marry me and I was lucky as hell because he’d said yes.” I smiled, loving how good it felt to say that.

“And what did they say?”

For the first time since Graham and I had fought, since he’d walked out of our home, I saw him. He was leaning forward, and his interest was evident.

“My mom said, you’re gay? And I said, yes, I am.”

“What else did she say?”

“That she liked you, and then wanted to know what kind of wedding we wanted,” I could feel myself beaming, smiling so big that it felt like the smile would fly off my face.

The furrow between Graham’s brows wrinkled. “What else? What did everyone else say?”

“My brothers had a bet! Can you believe it? Matt said he knew, Casey said he wasn’t sure but had to bet against Matt on principle. Apparently they had the bet going for years.” I felt a wave of love for my brothers. In spite of all my fear, they had acted like brothers should.

“Pricilla, Matt’s wife, was totally good with it. But Melissa,” I sighed. “You know, Casey’s wife?”

Graham nodded.

“Well, she didn’t take it well. Said she didn’t approve although she didn’t say why. Probably a good thing, now that I think about it. Anyway, she took the kids and left. Casey stayed. I haven’t heard from him today. Did you know,” I interrupted my own train of thought, “my mom said someone said something to her about me being gay, and she said, well, if he is, he’ll tell me? Can you believe it?”

“It’s not a huge surprise to me. People aren’t all mean ogres,” he said, echoing an argument we’d had before.

“Well,” I reached across the table and took one of his hands. He stiffened, so I didn’t grip it tightly. “You were right, and I was wrong.”

“What did your dad say?”

I sighed. “He wasn’t happy, and he left. He didn’t yell, or say anything really horrible, he just left. Mom left with him and even though they brought Granddad with them, he said, I’m staying, I’ll Uber home.” The memory of my grandfather waving his cell at my mom made me laugh a little.

Graham smiled.

“That sounds like it went okay, then.”

I nodded. “It did. It went a lot better than I hoped, even though I really wanted everyone to be happy for me, and celebrate with me. But we don’t have to worry about that. Once you move back, we’ll start planning for the wedding, and people will either come around or they can stay home!”

Graham eased his hand from mine.

“What?” I asked.

“Well, I don’t think I want to move back in,” he said slowly.

“What do you mean? What’s changed, other than for the better?” I felt my cheeks start to get hot.

“I’m glad you told them. You’ve needed to do that for a long time. I’m glad that this was the thing that pushed you forward, but…” he stopped, and looked away.

Then he looked at me again. “In the week since I moved out—”

“Yes, what’s happened in that whole week? That whole, long week, apparently?” I asked, trying not to be an asshole, because I remembered that when he left, he got into someone’s car. Someone who was waiting for him.

After I’d asked him to marry me. And he’d said yes. He hadn’t made a call or anything between that time and when he walked out with a suitcase in hand. That meant there was someone who was already planning to be there, waiting for him.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and talking—”

“I bet,” I said, and somehow I kept any bitterness from my tone.

“Listen, I was so excited that you proposed!” Graham knew me well, and must have sensed how I was feeling. “I thought that at last, you had decided to move forward with honesty and openness.”

“That’s why you had a bag packed, and someone waiting to pick you up,” I said, unable to contain myself any longer.

“I had my plans ready because I figured we’d have our normal fight about your avoidance in relation to your family. And had you said that you planned to tell your family the truth when you announced our engagement, I would have told him to go on home. But you didn’t. You wanted us to get engaged in secret because of your demons. I couldn’t do that. Not to me, and not to you.”

I started to speak, then closed my mouth. His last comment made me feel bad.

“I love you, and I am so glad you proposed. But I need to think some more. I need some time,” Graham continued.

“What is there to think about?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to get into that right now. You’ll have to be okay with knowing that I am not ready to just pick up our lives as though the last week didn’t happen.”

“So much has changed after only a week? I mean, it has. I finally did what you wanted!” I could feel the heat rising in me again. This was not going how I hoped at all. I felt like I was lost and had no way to get out of wherever it was I’d gotten lost. How had this gone so sideways?

“But that doesn’t change how I feel about you, or that I want to marry you,” I said. “I even came out when I told my family about our engagement, just as you wanted,” I added.

Graham held up a hand. “I think it’s better if you don’t tell anyone else, and ask your family to keep it private,” he said.

“Oh, who’s heading back to that closet now?” I asked, and I could hear the nasty tone of my voice.

“No, it’s not the closet at all,” he shot back, equally angry. “It’s the ‘I’m not sure where or if this relationship is going anywhere’ zone, and frankly, Bryant, I have every right to take as much time as I need. It broke my heart that you asked me to marry you on one hand and asked me to keep it secret on the other!”

We’d both leaned in, our voices lowering to that tone that couples used to fight in public.

Which felt like shit. Just as I felt like shit. Like a tornado, my emotions had whirled from anger to shame. I’d done this to him, I’d made him feel this way.

“You’re right,” I sat back in my seat. “Take all the time you need.”

“I don’t like telling you this. I was so nervous, I didn’t sleep last night. But I have to be honest with you. This has been one of the hardest weeks of my life, Bry.”

Hearing him use my nickname nearly undid me.

“I get it,” I mumbled.

He didn’t say anything and when I looked up at him, I could see the mixture of emotions playing across his face.

“I have to go,” he said abruptly and got up.

“Already?” I asked before I could stop myself.

“Yes. There’s nothing else to say that won’t end up with us fighting, and I don’t want that.”

“So what now?” I asked.

He sighed, looking down at his feet. Then he met my eyes. “Let’s keep it low key. I need some more time. I need to put my feelings in order, and I think I need to keep working on this on my own. I’ll call you later this week, okay?”

“Okay,” I said, because what else could I say?

Another moment of silence where I looked away, and then I heard, “See you, Bryant,” and his footsteps walking away.

A week after we’d met in the coffee shop, the week that was even longer than the first week after he’d left, Graham had not called.