Zach had been busy.
He’d taken Seth’s advice and given Camila a few days before reaching out. They’d had a few conversations since then, just via text. He didn’t think he could handle hearing her voice right now.
After talking, he understood why this was so hurtful to her. It had made her feel less secure about their relationship, like some power imbalance had been created. She reiterated that she didn’t want him to resent her one day as the person who held him back. Instead of reassuring her that would never be the case, he sat with that. Because she was right that was possible. Giving him space to decide what he wanted to do made sense.
Zach
Camila
Zach
Camila
Zach
Camila
While he remained undecided about the job a week after the breakup, he did choose some other courses of action. First thing on the list: find a therapist. He’d researched counselors and made some calls, and he had a consultation that week. He was drawn to that specific therapist because she’d listed grief and life transitions among her issues of interest. She also worked with people dealing with alcoholism, and maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to take a closer look at his drinking. Just in case he was more susceptible because of his family history.
Next up: figuring out the sale of the store. Seth connected him with a real estate lawyer who helped him make sense of the paperwork and developer offers. He wasn’t going to charge him — he said he owed Seth a favor from when they went to college in Boston together.
That was one pro for staying in Pittsburgh — he had friends here after all.
And since staying in Pittsburgh was definitely on the table, he followed up on that event job in the studio arts program. Of course the pay wasn’t great, but hopefully the sale of the store would happen sooner rather than later. And maybe he could finally give into capitalism and monetize his photography hobby. It might be fun to take pictures of some babies smashing cakes.
The next two items on his list were the most painful: a tattoo appointment, and a lunch with Chase. They’d had some neutral exchanges since Chase’s Instagram olive branch, and Zach was surprised this hypothetical lunch was actually going to happen. He didn’t know anything about making amends, but he was going to try.
Waiting for Chase to show up made Zach feel like his skeleton was trying to jump out of his body while the rest of him couldn’t move. It was possible Chase wouldn’t show, and it might be what he deserved. What he wanted was impossible — to distill more than a decade of regret into an efficient, eloquent speech that left them both feeling healed. In his wildest dreams, they would both say all the right things and he could leave this sticky casual-dining booth and be free of this.
Or maybe, just maybe, Chase didn’t even give a shit. Maybe Zach was a mere unpleasant footnote in his life, and Zach had always been the one who cared more.
It was a mistake, getting there so early. But it would have been poor form to be the one to be late to this. Five minutes past their set meeting time, Zach thought he’d been rightfully ghosted when Chase walked up to the booth.
He pushed his skeleton back into his body.
He stood to greet him, going in for a handshake Chase wasn’t expecting, which made Chase go in for one of those awkward dude half-hugs, and Zach had the unfamiliar sensation of being the short one in an interaction.
Over the years, he’d avoided looking Chase up on social media. Because he was still online friends with Emily, he’d sometimes see photos of Chase and his family when Emily came back to town, then quickly scroll away. In person, Chase looked exactly the same and worlds different from the last time he’d seen him, like a sketch artist came back to an old drawing to fill in new details. Fine lines and slashes of gray, a thicker middle, a broader jaw. He hadn’t gotten a good look when he and Camila ran into him.
“I thought you might not show up,” Zach admitted.
“I thought I might not, too,” Chase said.
“And I wouldn’t have blamed you.”
The silence dragged until a server took their drink orders and dropped a menu in front of Chase. “So,” Chase said. “I assume you want to talk about The Thing. Let’s talk about it.”
“I want you to know,” Zach said, “how sorry I am. I was wrong to tell Emily about us. I hurt you so much more than I could possibly imagine hurting someone or being hurt back. You didn’t deserve that. It wasn’t just my story to tell, and you were right that I did it to be spiteful. I am so deeply sorry.”
Chase gave him a hard look before nodding. “I’m sorry, too.”
That was unexpected. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” Zach reassured.
“It was pretty chickenshit of me to expect you to lie to someone you cared about just because I was scared of my little sister. You were an absolute dick to tell her, but I think you knew you weren’t putting me in danger or something. But I could have handled the whole thing better. I don’t think I’d fully come to terms with the gay thing.”
“You were just a kid,” Zach said.
Chase shrugged. “So were you.”
They were silent for a moment, and a basket of fries appeared. “Do you need a minute?” the server asked. Chase said yes and picked up the menu.
“I feel like I need to say more things. Like that can’t be it. But Camila told me sometimes forgiveness is more about listening, letting the other person let you have it.”
“She sounds like a good girl,” Chase said. He must have seen the expression on Zach’s face, because he barked out a laugh. “Oh no. What did you do?”
Zach couldn’t help but laugh. Chase had always done this, roasted him with the smallest provocation. “I overpromised and underdelivered.”
“The Hoult special,” Chase said.
Somewhere between their entrees arriving and the check, they managed to talk like two people who were fine with each other. Not besties, certainly not lovers. But they weren’t enemies anymore. Maybe they never had been, even if Zach had been the villain in a big chapter of Chase’s story. He told Chase about Irene’s artwork, and Chase showed him pictures of his husband and daughter. They talked about how Chase’s dad “retired” just to spend all his free time doing renovation projects for friends and friends of friends, and laughed at some of the ridiculous dollar amounts Emily had raked in designing properties for movie stars.
“What would have happened,” Zach asked, “if we had just been friends the whole time, and nothing more?”
Thinking about it, Chase finally said, “It would have been way less dramatic. But it also would have sucked a little, if my first love had been totally unrequited.”
“When did you get so wise?” Zach asked.
Chase’s dopey smile reminded him so much of when they were kids. “I married someone way smarter than me. Sounds like you’ve got someone like that in your life, too.”