What He Left Behind (20 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Unsurprisingly, despite the late hour, sleep doesn’t come easy. When it does, it comes in fits and starts, and it’s fucking awful. In my dreams, Michael’s walking away again, and Ian’s right on his heels this time. I don’t know how many times I wake up in a panic and reach for Ian, and then fall asleep and do it all over again.

It’s the longest, most restless night I’ve had in years.

Asleep or awake, I can’t get rid of this feeling that my husband and my best friend are both slipping through my fingers, and I don’t know how to make it stop. Especially now that I’ve fessed up and told Ian the truth. The proverbial cat is out of the bag, and it likes me about as much as Rosie does.

My own sleep-deprived, overstressed, semi-delirious thought almost makes me laugh. Almost. I waver between sort of awake and not quite asleep, and exhaustion finally takes over, apparently, because at some point, the dreams stop waking me up and I don’t open my eyes again until my alarm goes off.

Ian’s already gone. That’s expected, of course, but something doesn’t sit right. I don’t remember him giving me a kiss before he left for work. There’s no way I would’ve slept through that. Not after last night.

That’s not a good sign.

There’s not much I can do about it at this point, though, except get out of bed, get dressed and pour enough coffee down my throat to make it through the day. Worrying and obsessing didn’t help me sleep, and it’s not going to help me work.

By the time I get to the office, it’s pretty clear that nothing short of a miracle is going to help me work. I’m absolutely useless. All day, I’m either struggling to stay awake or trying not to obsess over Ian and Michael and the conversation Ian and I need to have when I get home. Assuming he’s there. He wouldn’t overreact and just walk out, would he? Of course not. Ian’s the rational one. He’s the one who’ll want to talk this all the way through, no matter what. Even if he’s already made up his mind and has one foot out the door and a U-Haul on the way.

No, he won’t make up his mind just yet. Talk first. Decide later. That’s his MO. Now if I can convince my stomach to settle, maybe I can make it through the rest of the day in one piece. Or at least without puking up what little I’ve eaten throughout the day.

And of course, my go-to tic when I’m uncomfortable—playing with my wedding ring—is only making everything worse.

Good God. I’m a wreck.

When the two-thirty slump shows up, I’m done. Just done. I don’t usually play hooky from work, so hopefully my boss will forgive me just this once, and after a quick phone call and some lame excuses, I’m out of there before three o’clock.

All the way home, I’m on the verge of shivering even though I’m not cold. I stay in the right lane on the freeway, not because I want to drive slower than everyone else, but because I want easy access to the shoulder in case this nausea suddenly gets worse.

I make it, though. Up the driveway. Into the garage. Out of the car. Deep breath. Into the house.

Ariel greets me at the door, bouncing and wiggling as she always does, and she gets me to crack the first smile I’ve managed all day. “Hey, sweetie.” I tousle her ears. “You miss me?”

She whips herself in the sides with her tail, and when she spins around in her excitement, she cracks me in the back of the knee with it.

“Hey! Watch it with that thing!” I laugh and pat her side, trying to stay out of the line of fire as her tail continues wagging. “Come on, let’s go see—”

Daddy.

My stomach flips. It’s go-time. Ian’s home, and it’s time to have this out. I scratch Ariel’s back and then continue into the house. Ian’s not in the living room, so with Ariel hot on my heels, I go into the kitchen.

He’s at the table with his laptop, the screen reflecting on his lenses, and he’s surrounded by neat stacks of white pages. As I step into the room, our eyes meet. He doesn’t seem surprised to see me home early, and he doesn’t look thrilled either. Just like last night, his poker face offers nothing.

Without a word, he closes his laptop. He takes off his glasses, sets them on top of the computer, and stands up. Now that his glasses are off, the heavy shadows under his eyes are unmistakable. My guilt burrows deeper—guess I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep last night.

Beside me, Ariel’s tail slows, no longer making whip-whip-whip sounds through the air. Ian’s got one of her toys on the table, one of the ones that can be filled with kibbles, ready and waiting as if he’s been prepared since he got home to gently distract her while we fight it out, so she doesn’t get as stressed. He picks it up and hands it to her. She grabs it out of his hand, drops onto the floor by the sink and starts pawing at it to get the treats out.

For a moment, we stand there, facing each other from miles apart. The only sound is Ariel rolling the toy around and crunching on the treats that fall out, and even that’s barely audible over my thumping heart.

“We should…” Ian swallows. “We should talk. About last night.”

“I know.” My throat tightens, and I take a deep breath. I run a shaky hand through my hair and can’t make myself look him in the eye. “I’m sorry. You trusted me to do this with Michael and not get involved like that, and I…” There’s no explanation. No rationalizing it and making it nice and pretty so he can brush it off and pretend it never happened. The cold hard truth is that my husband trusted me to have sex with another man, and to keep it as sex and nothing more, and I fell for that man anyway.

I make myself meet his gaze. “I’m sorry, Ian. I wish there was something else I could say. But I’m sorry, and I love you, and I don’t want to lose you.”

Please tell me I haven’t already lost you
.

Ian comes closer, and my knees are shaking as badly as they did the day Michael forced us to hash it out after that stupid breakup years ago.

He doesn’t say a word. His eyes tell me nothing.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper again, sounding so goddamned useless and pathetic.

“I know.” He wraps his arms around me, and my knees almost collapse out from under both of us. I want to believe this is silent forgiveness, but I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’m scared to death he’s just waiting for the right moment to calmly, quietly tell me that he’s going to move in with his brother, and we can talk to attorneys next week, and that he hopes we can do this amicably.

Though I’m not sure I want to know, I ask, “What do we do now?”

He doesn’t answer right away, but finally says, “Come on. Let’s go sit.” He leads me into the living room. Rosie is on the couch, so Ian moves her to the back of one of the armchairs. We sit down, a full cushion dividing us. There’s still a lot of space between us, much more than I’m comfortable with, but Ian takes my hand. At least that’s something—at this point, I’ll take it.

Ian takes a deep breath. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since last night.” He watches his thumb running back and forth along the backs of my knuckles. “And maybe this whole thing with Michael… Maybe we went about it the wrong way.”

The wrong…huh?

I cock my head. “What do you mean?”

He wets his lips and lifts his gaze. “Maybe what we’ve been doing with him shouldn’t be just sex. And maybe it shouldn’t be…temporary.”

I blink, not sure I heard him right. “What?”

“Maybe you need him.” He swallows. “Maybe we both do.”

Okay, I definitely heard him right that time, but…
What?
“I don’t understand.”

Ian takes a deep breath. “The thing is, Michael’s been a part of your life forever, and he’s been a part of ours ever since we met. He’s never tried to intrude. Hell, he kept us together when we fucked up.”

“Yeah, true.”

“He’s never been a third wheel. More like…more like the third corner. And when we started getting physically involved with him, it was…” He’s quiet for a moment, eyes unfocused. “The thing is, look how fast he was willing to let me join the picture, even with all that trauma still hanging over him. And I cared from the start about him getting past all his flashbacks and panics, but when I was really involved in it…” He grimaces.

“It hurts. To watch someone you care that much about going through that.”

“Yeah, it does.” His voice wavers, and he clears his throat. “Maybe that should’ve told me something. And I guess I can’t help wondering if this—the feelings and wanting more—was inevitable.”

My heart speeds up and my stomach flips. “Inevitable? What do you mean?”

“For the three of us to get to this point. Where it’s not just two husbands and a friend. Where we’re…three guys together.”

“Like, three guys in one relationship?”

Ian nods.

I stare at him but then put up a hand and shake my head. “Look, I know marriage is all about compromise, but I can’t ask you to—”

“You’re not. And this isn’t compromise.” His lips twist a little, as if he’s searching for the right words. “Quite frankly, I was pissed last night when you told me how you felt about him.”

I flinch, but he’s not done yet.

“And I spent a lot of time thinking about it. All night, and throughout today, right up until you got home. And the thing is, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I have feelings for him too.”

“You do?”

Ian nods. “I guess what drove it home was when I caught myself freaking out that you might leave me for him, and it hurt to think about losing him too.” He slides a little closer. “Josh, I don’t want to lose either of you. I thought last night was the come-to-Jesus moment for you, where you needed to think about whether you want to be with me or with Michael. But I think it was that moment for all of us to realize there’s an option we hadn’t considered before.”

Speechless. Completely fucking speechless.

Ian laces our fingers together on the cushion between us. “I don’t think I could ever feel for him or anybody else what I feel for you. And I know there’s something between the two of you that can’t exist anywhere except there.” He shifts his weight. “But maybe it doesn’t have to be a hundred percent equal on all sides. Maybe the way it is…works.”

“But…” I shake myself, certain this is all some sort of sleep-deprived hallucination. “How the fuck would something like that even work?”

Ian shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess if any of us knew that, maybe we’d have done this a long time ago. Up until we started…” He pauses, cheeks coloring a little. “Until this, uh, arrangement with Michael, I thought it was either monogamy or the casual fucking around we did when we were younger.” He waves his hand. “Maybe there’s a sweet spot somewhere in between that we didn’t think about before.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Part of me is still bracing for the worst case scenario, which makes it almost impossible to believe the solution Ian’s suggesting. “Are you…”

He squeezes my hand. “Yes, I’m serious.”

I slide closer and wrap my arms around him. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too.” He kisses my cheek and holds me tighter. “And I want all three of us to be happy, even if it means doing things that are a bit unusual.”

“I don’t know if Michael will go for that.”

Ian strokes my hair. “It’s worth a shot.”

I sit up and meet his gaze. “But…your job. The school district barely puts up with the fact that you’re gay.”

Ian chuckles, and he shrugs. “Well, what they don’t know won’t hurt me.” Turning serious, he cups my face and kisses me again. “We can be discreet. It’s really none of anyone else’s business.”

“And if they find out anyway?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” He meets my gaze. “We were both freaked out about the school district figuring out I was gay, and yeah, they don’t like it, but there isn’t a damned thing they can do about it.”

“An arrangement like this, though…”

“Then, like I said, we’ll be discreet. If it comes out…” He shrugs again. “We’ll deal with it. But I think this has the potential to be something really amazing for all three of us. I’m not going to pass that up just because someone who’s stuck in the Dark Ages might find out about it. The only ones whose opinions matter are you, me and Michael.”

“Question is, what will he think of the idea?”

“All we can do is talk to him.”

“Except I’m not sure if he’ll even take my calls right now.” Just saying it makes me sick to my stomach.

Ian’s eyebrows jump. “What do you mean? Did something happen?”

“When we talked, he said he needed some time. He didn’t come out and say it, but it was kind of a ‘don’t call me, I’ll call you’ type of thing.”

Ian scowls. “Well, all you can do is try. If he isn’t receptive right now, then we’ll wait until he comes out of the woodwork.” He runs his fingers through my hair. “He isn’t gone forever. We both know he’ll come back.”

That damned lump is rising in my throat again. “I know. I just…” I shake my head. “Fuck.”

“He’ll come back.” Ian gathers me in his arms. “And if by some chance he doesn’t, I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.”

I close my eyes and hold him tight. This isn’t over yet, not until we’ve talked to Michael, but all I can feel right now is the most profound relief. After being so terrified that Ian was ready to walk out the door, I should be dragging him upstairs and fucking him into the ground just to make sure this is real and we’re both really here, but I can’t move.

Truth be told, I don’t want to move. We’ve joked in the past that the best part of fighting is making up, and we’ve had some explosive makeup sex over the years, but I don’t see that part happening this time. I’m physically exhausted. I’m emotionally exhausted. More than that, though, I just want to hold him like this for a moment. Right here on our couch, fully dressed and not even a little bit turned on, this is all I want.

Ian lifts his head and tips my chin up so we’re looking in each other’s eyes.

And then he kisses me, and it’s chaste and gentle, and I don’t have to ask if he feels the same way.

The sex will come later. Just…don’t move.

I want to believe Michael will come back, but right now, I’m just grateful Ian’s still here.

Chapter Twenty-Five

It takes me until almost bedtime to finally work up the nerve to text Michael.

We’d like to talk—dinner?

Of course, that’s a mistake. Now I’ll be up all night wondering what he’s thinking, if he’ll respond, if he’ll be upset that I broke the silence. His departure wasn’t hostile by any means, but especially in the years since he left Steve, Michael has been fiercely protective of his space. If he wants to be left alone, he wants to be
left alone
.

As I’m getting ready for bed, I have visions of him looking at the message and then shoving his phone in his pocket without responding.

“Give him time.” Ian snaps me out of my thoughts with a gentle hand on my shoulder. “He’s got a lot to think about.”

“I know.” I toss my shirt in the hamper and sigh. “But you know I’m going to freak out about it until—”

Ian kisses me softly. “I know. And there’s nothing I can say that’ll stop you, but
you
know I’m still going to try.”

I meet his eyes and can’t help laughing. “Yeah, true. I don’t know why I bother trying.”

He smiles, and then hugs me gently. “It’ll be—”

My phone buzzes on top of my dresser, and both our heads snap toward it.

“Is that…?”

“Maybe.” I grab the phone, and sure enough, there’s a text from Michael.

Are you sure that’s a good idea?

I gulp.

“What’d he say?” Ian asks.

I show him the message, and he frowns.

“How upset was he when you guys talked?”

“He was pretty shaken up.” I look at the screen again. “He might be afraid to face you.”

“Me? Why would—” He pauses. “Because of how he feels about you.”

I nod.

“Maybe I should message him,” Ian says. “So he knows I’m not upset.”

Gnawing my lip, I try to think of a better idea but come up empty, so I sigh and lower my phone. “It’s worth a shot.”

He takes out his own and starts typing out a message. Before he sends it, he turns it so I can see it.

There’s no hard feelings. Just want to talk
.

I nod, and Ian sends the message. We both stare at our screens, waiting for the icon that indicates he’s responding, but nothing happens.

Until my phone suddenly comes to life with his ringtone, and a smiling picture of him that seems so out of place right now.

I quickly answer. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He pauses. “So, Ian knows? What we talked about?”

My heart speeds up. “Yeah.”

“And he’s…”

“He’s not angry. No one is.” I glance at Ian for reassurance, and when he nods, I continue. “This just seems like something we should all talk about. Face to face.”

He goes quiet for so long, I’m sure I dropped the call. Or worse, that he hung up.

But finally, he says, “If you guys really want to talk about this in person, let’s do it sooner than later. I know it’s late, but…”

“Now?”

Ian’s eyebrows jump, but he shrugs.
Why not?

Michael sighs. “I can be there in twenty.”

“We’ll be here.”

After I hang up, I meet my husband’s gaze. “Well, I guess if we’re gonna lose sleep…”

“Might as well be doing something other than staring at the ceiling.”

“Yeah.” I put my hands on his waist. “Before he gets here… We’re really okay, right? You and me?”

“I wouldn’t even consider adding someone else if we weren’t.” He gathers me into a tight embrace. “Whatever happens tonight, nothing changes.”

I just pray to God he’s right.

Almost exactly twenty minutes later, Michael’s at the door. As I let him in, Ariel goes crazy, barking and whapping herself in the ribs with her tail. Michael leans down to pet her, and though he’s tense, he laughs—it’s hard not to when she’s being crazy like that.

He glances up at me, and his laughter vanishes. He clears his throat. “I hope this isn’t too late at night.”

“No, definitely not.”

Ian steps into the foyer. “Better to clear the air now than lose sleep over it.”

Michael recoils slightly, as if he’s expecting Ian to lash out at him even though he’s never seen Ian lose his temper, not even when I’ve pushed him to the point where anyone in his right mind would have.

“Let’s go sit,” I say softly. “In the living room.”

Michael nods. “Okay.”

He follows us into the living room and takes the armchair. Ian and I take the couch, Ian on the end closest to Michael with me on the middle cushion.

Almost immediately, Rosie crawls into Michael’s lap and curls up. Even from here, I can hear her purring. Though Michael’s obviously tense—aren’t we all?—he still pets her, and he doesn’t even flinch as she kneads his leg.

No one’s speaking, and everyone’s focused on Rosie. She soaks it all up, of course. Nothing better for a smug cat than three people sitting in silence and admiring her.

Michael is still focused on her when he takes a breath and sets his shoulders back. “So, you guys wanted to talk.”

Ian and I exchange glances. He takes my hand.

I shift my gaze to Michael. “It’s about the conversation we had at lunch yesterday. About…”

Michael winces, drawing back a little as his eyes dart toward Ian.

“He told me what you guys talked about,” Ian says softly.

I glance down at our joined hands, then meet Michael’s gaze. “The thing is, everybody’s feelings got more intense than we thought they would. But we’re…”

Ian squeezes my hand gently.

I pull in a breath. “We’re not so sure that’s a bad thing.”

Michael’s eyebrows jump, and his gaze flicks back and forth between us, but he doesn’t speak.

“We…” My pulse is out of control. “The thing is…”

Ian breaks in: “We want you to be part of our family.”

Michael’s eyes widen.

“Actually, that’s not even accurate.” Ian clears his throat, and he’s holding my hand even tighter as he says, “Michael, having you here is what
makes
this”—he gestures at each of us in turn—“a family.”

My heart flutters. God, now that he says it like that, it’s so true. “He’s right.”

Michael chews his lip. Then he exhales and absently unsticks one of Rosie’s claws from his jeans. “Look, guys. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me recently. It’s made such a big difference, I can’t even put it into words. But this was just a temporary thing. So I could move on from my ex.”

“Do you want it to be temporary?” Ian asks.

I hold my breath, not sure I want to know the answer.

“You two are married.” Michael’s barely whispering. “I can’t… I don’t want to be the third wheel.”

Before I can speak, Ian says, “You’re not the third wheel. If anything, I am.”

My head snaps toward Ian, and Michael and I both say in unison, “What?”

Ian glances at me, then Michael. “You guys have had something special for a lot longer than I’ve been in the picture.” Slowly, his smile comes to life. “And Josh and I, we’ve had something special for a long time too. It almost seems like—”

“You’re not the third wheel, Ian,” Michael cuts in. “The two of you… That was fate if I ever saw it. I knew the minute I met you that you and Josh were in it for the long haul.”

“Then maybe there isn’t a third wheel here,” I say. “Does there have to be? Just because there’s three people involved, does there have to be an odd man out?”

Michael shifts, petting the cat and not looking at either of us.

“He’s right,” Ian says. “The three of us just make sense. I mean, the nights we all spend with a bottle of wine in the hot tub? I look forward to that. And I thought it was just because it’s a chance to relax and get away from everything, but honestly, I could do that alone. I could take a bottle of wine into the hot tub by myself. Or with Josh.” He traces my thumb with his. “But it’s not the same.” He hesitates, chewing his lip, before he adds, “Looking back, I’m just surprised it took this long to figure out that there’s a lot more here than a married couple and a good friend. I guess the sex just…” He glances at each of us. “It just sealed it.”

Michael rests his hand on top of Rosie. “I don’t even know what to say. I mean,
if
we went through with this, how would it even work?”

“We’ll make it up as we go,” I say.

Ian nods. “I don’t think it’ll be much different from what we’ve already been doing.”

“Exactly,” I say. “I think it’ll pretty much work how it’s
been
working all along. Quite honestly, how it’s been working since even before we all started sleeping together.”

They both look at me, eyebrows up.

I clear my throat. “Think about it. We can all function on our own. We can all function as pairs—Ian and me, Michael and me, you two together. But if we miss a Sunday night, we’re all bummed out until we can finally do it again. Because it just feels like that’s how everything should be.”

Ian chews his lip for a moment. To Michael, he says, “He’s got a point.”

“I know he does. But it’s… I…” Michael exhales hard. He picks up Rosie and carefully sets her on the armrest. Then he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and covering his face with his hands. “This is a lot to take in.”

“Nothing has to happen overnight.” Ian runs his thumb along the side of my hand. “If you need to think, then by all means, take whatever time you need. If we’re all on board, then the only thing that really changes now is we just accept what we’re doing. Let it evolve. You don’t have to move in or anything like that.”

“But we can discuss that option in the future,” I say quietly. “If you want to.”

Michael rubs the bridge of his nose. “Couldn’t this get really complicated?”

“I think it already has.”

Ian nods. “I can’t think of anything more complicated than trying to ignore feelings that obviously don’t want to be ignored.”

Michael lowers his hand. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” I say. “And neither of us is pretending it’ll be bliss and perfection all the time. No relationship is.”

“It’ll definitely be an adjustment.” Ian grips my hand tighter. “Hell, Josh and I still butt heads sometimes. It just means three people squabbling over who takes out the trash and getting annoyed over leaving empty milk cartons in the fridge.”

Michael laughs. “Honestly, a relationship where the worst bone of contention involves household chores… That kind of sounds like heaven to me.” He pauses, gazing at both of us, and releases a breath. “Especially if it’s with the two of you.”

I slide over and gesture for Michael to come to the couch. “Then join us.”

He tenses, eyeing both of us and the vacancy between us. “You guys really are serious about this.”

“Absolutely.” Ian pats the cushion. “We both love you, Michael. We want you to join us.”

Michael eyes that vacant spot again. Slowly, tentatively, he rises. Ian moves his legs aside to give him room as he makes his way around the coffee table, and my heart goes crazy as Michael sinks down onto the couch between us.

He glances at me. Then at Ian. He swallows, pressing his lips together as if he’s struggling to keep his emotions in check.

I curve my hand over his leg. “Ian’s right. We want you to stay with us.”

Michael puts his hand over mine, and for a long, silent moment, he stares at that point of contact. “I can’t…”

My heart sinks.
Michael…

Then he laughs, shakes his head and looks me in the eyes. “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.”

Ian and I both laugh too. It doesn’t seem like the right thing to do in that moment, but I’m not sure there is a right thing to do except be happy. And relieved. And pull Michael into my arms and hug him the way I did the day he left Steve for good.

I was so afraid you’d never come back.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you too.” I kiss the top of his head, and when he meets my gaze, we both smile. Then I kiss him for real.

As I deepen that kiss, Ian slides his hand over the top of mine on Michael’s back, and I open my eyes. Over Michael’s shoulder, I meet Ian’s gaze. His eyes have tears in them, and I realize mine are stinging a bit too.

Michael draws back, wiping his eyes.

He turns to Ian and takes his hand. The air between them is taut. They hold each other’s gazes, I hold my breath, wondering what they’re thinking and what one might eventually say.

Ian reaches for Michael’s face, but hesitates. His hand hovers there, just inches away, before finally settling against Michael’s cheek. Michael closes his eyes and presses against Ian’s hand, clasping his own over the top of it.

Then Ian lifts Michael’s chin, draws him in and kisses him.

And now I get why so many fairy tales use a kiss to break enchantments. The second those two make contact, it’s like a spell is broken. The standoff is over. The uncertainty is gone. Michael is here, and Ian is here, and nobody’s going anywhere.

Well, sort of.

I slide my hand higher up Michael’s leg. “You know, we do have some furniture that’s more comfortable than this couch.”

Michael laughs and turns to me. “Is that your not so subtle hint that we should all go upstairs and fuck?”

“Is that a not so subtle yes?”

“You’re damn right it is.”