illness was never going to get better. He said he didn’t sign up to be someone’s caretaker, and…” He closed his eyes and leaned back. “I get it when life just sucks.”
Adam turned and looked at him. In another life, he could be happy with someone like Seth—an awkward, shy, nerdy man who was so endearing, it made his heart clench. But in a way, he was glad neither of them were available to do something stupid like crush on each other, because this friendship felt important. “I’m sorry he was a shithead.”
Seth shrugged. “It is what it is. I’m sorry Nik’s taking the whole getting fired thing out on you.”
At that, Adam froze, his ears ringing. “He…what? He was fired?”
“Yeah,” Seth said slowly. “You know, when Catherine went on that whole tirade and got the school to give him the reprimand? I mean, I guess he wasn’t fired as much as encouraged to resign, or whatever bullshit they wanted to call it in the meeting. He didn’t tell you?”
“Uh, no. He didn’t…he never said,” Adam replied, his voice a broken mess.
Seth’s eyes went wide. “Oh god. I’m…I’m so sorry. I assumed you knew.”
And really, Seth had a right to. Getting fired was probably something people in a relationship should have talked about, especially since Adam was responsible for it—or at least partly. He wasn’t responsible for the woman being a bigot, but he was the man she caught Nik kissing.
“What else did they say to him in the meeting?” Adam finally managed to ask.
Seth looked away, then shrugged. “They told him it was fine to be gay, just not to, you know…”
“Not to flaunt it?” Adam chanced with a bitter laugh.
Seth winced. “Yeah. I’m rethinking the offer they gave me. A year contract. If I meet someone, I don’t want to be terrified that some homophobic parent is going to get me shit-canned.”
Adam closed his eyes and breathed out. Was that it? Did Nik resent him for being part of why he lost his job? And Catherine was one of his private students’ parents. So, what did that mean for the rest? These were answers he should have had—if only Nik had talked to him.
His insides twisted, and he shoved his food aside before lowering down to his pillow and pressing his face into it. He felt a tentative touch to the back of his neck before the touch became bolder, stronger, fingers dancing along his spine.
“We’re here for you, you know,” Seth told him. “You were one of the first truly kind people to me when I moved here. I…that matters. I’m sorry this hurts.”
Adam had no words for him, though. He had no words for anyone.
Jay returned not long after, but he said nothing as he curled up next to Adam and held him close. The silence was enough. Nik had made it clear to at least one person in the room that things were over, and Adam couldn’t do anything else but accept it.
In spite of having zero expectation that Nik would call him and at least clarify where they stood, the silence gutted Adam down to his core. He spent the time he wasn’t at work holed up in his apartment, occasionally pouring himself into music. But mostly, he just stared at the wall and wondered what god he’d pissed off enough to condemn him to this life.
It was all fine and good before he knew what actually falling in love was like, but losing Nik had been like losing a limb. Something changed—before his dad’s death, something was different, and he didn’t know what. It might have been losing his job, but he didn’t think Nik was the kind of person who would have blamed him for small-town bigotry. And it wasn’t like Nik hadn’t been an enthusiastic participant in that day’s make-out session.
No, there was something else—something he was missing. Maybe it was the intensity of his feelings. Nik had certainly reacted when Adam had played for him, and maybe he’d just given too much away in that moment.
As he lay there, waiting for the clock to tick further, for time to push him toward work, he covered his face and tried to recall the last time Nik had touched him with genuine want. After that night—after Adam had played, his touches became perfunctory. They were muscle memory, an echo of pleasure. Adam hated how willingly he let himself chalk it up to stress, how he didn’t push the issue.
But he had been