Coda Books 04 - Strawberries for Dessert (MM)

that many options. The only thing to do was say it. “My company is being restructured, and they want me to relocate.”
    He didn’t say anything. He barely reacted at all, except to go very, very still. “How long have you known this?” he finally asked.
    “I’ve known for months that it was a possibility. But I didn’t know for sure until today.”
    He seemed to think about that for a moment, and then suddenly that strange stillness was gone, and he was completely himself again.
    “Where will you go?”
    “I have my choice of Colorado, Utah, or Vegas.”
    “I assume you’ll choose Colorado, then.”
    “No.”
    “Why not?” he asked in surprise. “You lived there before. It seems like the obvious choice.”
    “It does, but….” I wasn’t really sure what to tell him. I didn’t want to talk about Zach. “It’s part of my past, and I don’t want to go back.”
    And I saw in his eyes that he understood. And more than that, it pleased him. He tried to hide it. He looked quickly down at his plate.
    But it was there, just the same.
    “Vegas or Utah, then,” he said. “Which will it be: Zion or Sin City?”
    “I suppose it will be Vegas.”
    “It’s a good choice, love,” he said, keeping his head down so that his hair hid his expression from me. I realized it was something he had done frequently when we were first seeing each other. He did it less often with me now. “All-you-can-eat bacon really is preferable to eternal salvation, isn’t it?”
    We didn’t talk about it for the rest of the evening. He kept up a constant stream of small talk, and I had a feeling he was deliberately not allowing me to revisit the subject. He fell asleep on the couch next to me, like he often did. I nudged him awake, and he followed me into the bedroom. He got in on his own side of the bed, which would have been normal if we had already had sex. But it was unusual for him to be uninterested on my first night back. I didn’t push it. I got in on my side and turned out the light.
    We lay in the silent darkness for a while, and I could tell by his breathing, and his stillness, that he wasn’t asleep.
    “Do you want to go?” he finally asked.
    “No.”
    “But you will.” It wasn’t even a question.
    “What else can I do?”
    He was quiet for a moment. I wished I could see his face to get some idea of what he was thinking, but I knew he had waited until now to have this conversation specifically so he could keep me from seeing… something. “I don’t know, love,” he finally said. “You tell me: what else can you do?”
    “Nothing.”
    “If you say no, you’ll be let go?”
    “No.”
    “No? They won’t fire you? Then what’s the problem? Why go if you don’t have to?”
    “It will mean accepting a demotion.”
    He was still for a moment, and then suddenly he sat up. He sat across my hips so that he could look down at me, although in the darkness, my expression had to be as hidden from him as his was from me. “Would you lose money? Is that what this is about? Can you not afford a pay cut?”
    “No!” I hated when he talked about money. He was ridiculously wealthy, and his idea of how much money normal people had was somewhat skewed. Sometimes it seemed that in his mind, everyone who wasn’t a millionaire was only pennies away from living on the street. “I have plenty of money,” I said in irritation. “That has nothing to do with it.”
    “Then what, love? Make me understand. Why would you choose to do something you don’t want to do simply because they ask it? Why would you not choose the option that makes you happy?”
    “I haven’t worked my ass off for this company for nine years just to accept a demotion!”
    He sat there, perfectly still, looking down at me. And then suddenly he rolled away. He moved back to his side of the bed, and I could see just enough in the darkness to determine that his back was to me as he pulled the covers up to his chin.
    “That’s it?” I asked, annoyed. “You have nothing else to say?”
    He sighed. “You accept that the shadows on the wall are real, love. I have no idea how to make you turn around and see the light.”
    “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
    “Nothing at all. Goodnight.”
    I hardly slept that night. I wanted to wake Cole up and make him talk to me. I wanted to make love to him. I wanted to hold him. But as always, I respected the walls he maintained, and I let him sleep. We passed our morning in stiff, awkward