It was the most confusing morning. Evan had been gone by the time Simon got up. He’d hurried home to get on fresh clothes, and gotten to work expecting to talk to Evan…but he wasn’t here.

His coat was still slung over the back of his chair, so he’d certainly been here. Was the meeting with Archie still going? Surely not. But why wouldn’t he come back to work?

By now, Simon was pacing. Last night he’d begun to think he and Evan were getting back to normal, after that oddly tense conversation at the restaurant.

Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe Evan was just one of those guys who didn’t answer his phone sometimes. It didn’t mean he was ghosting or anything. Just that he needed reminders about communicating with his boyfriend.

Simon picked up the phone again. He should call upstairs. Maybe not Archibald himself. But Ash, or Callum? Surely one of them would know where Evan was. But even though the Crays were always in his thoughts and fears, he didn’t know them, and he was still a lowly office-worker, and lowly office-workers don’t get to call the vice presidents just to track down a boyfriend.

Instead, he called Karl.

“I don’t know where he is, and I’m worried,” he told his brother.

“You’re worried? Didn’t you stay over there last night? What, you can’t be apart four hours without panicking?”

“It’s just, his jacket is here, and I thought—”

“He’s not a three-year-old,” said Karl. “He’s a grown man. He can go out without his jacket. That doesn’t mean he’s running out in the middle of traffic or something.”

“But why isn’t he answering his phone?”

“Hell, I don’t know. Sometimes people don’t. Why don’t you think he’s still in some deep meeting with the rest of his bullshit family?”

“Last night, he told me he was scared his family was up to something bad. What if they did…whatever the bad thing was?”

Karl sighed. “Okay, look, I know you’re upset, but be realistic, Evan. What do you think they could do to him? They’re not going to kidnap him. He’s not chained in the basement, undergoing torture. If he’s still meeting with them, you’ll see him later. If he’s not still meeting with them, you’ll see him later. I mean, you’re not telling me you think he punked out on you, right?”

That’s exactly what I’m worried about, Simon thought. But he couldn’t say that to Karl. He couldn’t say it aloud. “I don’t think so, no. I think he must have gotten bad news.”

“There you go. Then he’ll show up later to tell you the news. Quit worrying.”

“Okay. You’re probably right.”

“Call me later, keep me posted. You and your capitalist friends are so interesting to me.”

“Oh come on, be sympathetic,” Simon said.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’ve got your damn head in the clouds. I’ve seen it. It’s clear you really have feelings for this guy. Gross as that is to watch.”

“Then what do I do?” asked Simon. “I can’t just chase him down, I don’t want to be all stalkery.”

“I don’t think it counts as stalking when it’s your boyfriend,” said Karl.

Which brought to Simon’s mind that he’d had exactly the same thought before, back when he followed Evan to Maura’s house. This time, though, he was in no mood for surprises. He wouldn’t form a search party just yet.

* * *

When Evan finally called, Simon was back home. Evan was clearly drunk.

“Dude, I’m calling you back,” Evan said, his voice unsteady and slurred.

Simon’s immune system immediately flooded with Responsibility Antibodies. “You’re not driving, are you?”

“Uh…no. No. I think I left my keys in my jacket. Hold on, let me ask the cab driver if he’s seen my jacket.”

“Evan? Evan, your jacket is at work.”

“Oh. That’s why I couldn’t find it.”

“I haven’t heard from you all day. I got really worried. I don’t want to be all mother-hen on you—”

“All what?”

“Mother-hen.”

“Is that a word?”

“Oh, dude, are you too drunk to even have a conversation?”

“I meant to tell you!” said Evan. “I found the best bar.”

“How did the thing with Archie go? Or do you even remember?”

“Archie? Oh, fuck, I hate that dude. I think I have to set the files on fire. Is that what he said? Shit.”

“You’re not making much sense. Maybe we ought to talk tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I had to tell you something. What was it? I think it was about my dad. Do you remember my dad?”

“I definitely think you ought to go straight to bed. Do you want me to come over?”

“Do I want… No. No. Don’t come over. Please. I’m a mess, Simon.”

“It sounds like it.”

“See you tomorrow.”

And that was it. An entire day of worrying, only to find Evan was back to his old tricks, spending the day drinking, escaping from his responsibility.

Don’t judge, he told himself. You don’t know how bad the meeting with Archie went. This might mean it went really, really badly.

But Simon didn’t feel in the mood to give anybody the benefit of the doubt. Not after what he’d been through today, all the voicemails, all the pacing, getting more and more frantic by the minute. Not when Evan thought it was a great, natural response to just go incommunicado until he was so drunk he might as well have been speechless.

He wished they could just talk.

Maybe tomorrow.