“He’s fine. He’s at work. I think he must have dropped his phone. I can’t get ahold of him because he’s in court today, but I’m going to head down to his office and see if they have a way to get it to him.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line that stretched on uncomfortably.

“Is something wrong?” Josiah finally asked. “I can find him if you need me to. I know he would want me to. He’s already going to be angry at himself that he left his phone.”

Another pause. “You’re him, aren’t you? The one who likes to walk and feed the birds?”

Josiah’s heart sped up, a racecar circling a track in his chest. Tristan had told his mom about him? The knowledge didn’t compute. Didn’t feel like something Tristan would ever do. Questions begged to break free. He wanted to know exactly what Tristan had said about him, and how it had come up, but to ask almost put a sour feeling in his stomach. It almost wouldn’t matter knowing if Tristan didn’t make the decision to tell him.

“I do walk, every day.... Is there something I can do for you? Something I can tell Tristan?”

He heard movement on the other end of the line before she spoke. “I was just lonely and hoped Tristan could stop by today. Isabel is out, and...I just missed him.” She sighed again. “Just ignore me. It’s one of those days. He’s at work, and I know I can’t interrupt him there. It’s not fun being alone.”

Josiah shook his head as though she could see him. He had firsthand experience with being alone. “No. No, it’s not.” And he also knew that if Tristan got this phone call, he would have gone to see his mom. He’d find a way to work it out so he could give her what she needed.

“You sound familiar with the emotion.”

“Not as much as I used to be.”

“Because of Tristan?” she asked.

Josiah sat back down on his bed and leaned against the wall. “Yeah.”

“How did you meet?”

Josiah told her how he’d been walking by the water, then stopped to feed the birds, and turned to find Tristan there. He shared about his daily walks and his job at the coffee house. He talked about school and how, if he kept going at the rate he was, he only had a little over a year left. That he’d have his four year degree, something he never expected to get, and that he’d get it in less time, too.

They both asked questions and talked about Tristan. Neither let the conversation go too deep, not letting it veer into topics they both knew Tristan wouldn’t want to share. It was like an unspoken vow that they both accepted, because it wouldn’t be fair to Tristan.

Time passed by, and Josiah just kept talking to her. He made lunch while on the phone. Ignored the time, even though he knew he should be in class. When the cell started to die, he plugged it in and let her keep talking. She asked about his family and apologized when he told her he’d lost both his parents.

At close to five, she quieted for a few seconds. “Tristan was right. You’re very kind.”

With the back of his hand, Josiah brushed it over his own cheek, as though he could feel Tristan that way. Tristan, who was so serious most of the time but could make him laugh, too. Tristan, who gave him a place to stay and talked to him. Who made love to him as though to him, it really was more than sex. “So is he.”

“I have to go. Thank you for talking with me today. I was having a harder day then I let on. Now I’m...hopeful.”

A burst of pride swelled inside him. “I’m glad it helped.”

When they got off the phone, Josiah went downstairs to start dinner. Even though Tristan wouldn’t be home until late, he wanted to make sure he had food waiting. The roast and potatoes had only been in the oven about thirty minutes when he heard the front door.

Josiah headed for the door of the kitchen, but Tristan somehow made it there before him. He blocked the doorway, his tie undone like it so often was when he got off work.

“Hey. I thought you were going to be late?” Josiah asked, but Tristan didn’t reply. He just studied Josiah intensely, as though he’d never seen him before. The hairs on the back of his neck rose. He leaned against the counter because he couldn’t make himself stay still. “Is everything okay?”

He couldn’t help the fear that ate away at the happiness he’d started to feel—living here, being with Tristan, falling in love with him. To have him come home almost just like Mateo did before he’d walked away. That’s the way it went for him. When he felt secure or comfortable, when he found someone to love, even if Tristan couldn’t feel the same about him, he lost it. He’d lose Tristan the way he did Mateo. The wild look in Tristan’s expressive eyes told him that.