Coda Books 04 - Strawberries for Dessert (MM)

me. It was painful, being kept outside his walls. I wished they were tangible so I could tear them down with my bare hands. “Please,” he whispered, pleading. “We’ll talk after dinner, Jonny. I promise. But I need you to give me some space right now.”
    “Okay,” I said, not because I wanted to. It broke my heart to have him push me away again. But I knew that honoring his wishes was the only thing I could do. I changed out of my suit, and after debating it for a while, I decided to join him in the kitchen. I tried to help him cook most nights now. I knew nothing, and mostly I just got in his way and drank wine, but it was still fun. Tonight was no different. Although he was awkward with me at first, once he realized I wasn’t going to push him, he relaxed, and when I put my arms around him from behind, burying my face in his hair, he actually leaned back against me and sighed as I kissed his neck.
    I was a little bit curious about what he would have to say after dinner, but I wasn’t concerned. Most of the time, he seemed happy with me, and I wasn’t worried. We ate, and I wasn’t surprised when he didn’t say anything immediately afterward. I did the dishes while he read on the couch. When I came out of the kitchen, he took me into the bedroom, and we had sex that I truly would have classified as earth- shattering. When it was over, he moved to the other side of the bed, not touching me. And then, lying in the dark, he finally spoke.
    “Come to Paris with me.”
    I wasn’t sure what I had been expecting, but that certainly wasn’t it, and I actually laughed. “Are you serious?”
    He didn’t laugh with me. “Yes.”
    “Why?”
    “Why not?”
    I realized then that, although I didn’t understand why or how, this was connected to whatever it was that had had him in tears on my couch earlier. Whatever this was, it meant a great deal to him. I quit laughing and thought about what he was saying. Paris? “I would love to, Cole, someday, but—”
    “I mean now, love. Soon .”
    “I….” I still couldn’t quite believe that he was serious. “I can’t.”
    He was silent for a moment, and as usual when he started these conversations in the dark, I wished that I could see his face. “Why not?” he finally asked.
    “I have to find a job. My severance will be out soon. I have some vacation pay coming after that, but—”
    “Once you find a job, you’ll be stuck here, love. You won’t get vacation time for months. If we’re going to go, this is the time to do it.”
    He was right about the vacation time, of course. It would probably be a full year before I was afforded a single week of vacation time. Maybe a short trip wouldn’t be too irresponsible. I would still have time when I got home to find a job. “I could go for a few days—”
    “No, Jonny.” He turned toward me and rolled so that he was lying on top of me, looking down at me in the dark. I wished I could see what was in his eyes. “I’m not talking about a few days. I’m not talking about a quick trip, and then back to Phoenix.” He stopped, as if he had to gather his courage. “I’m asking you to come to Paris with me indefinitely.”
    “Cole, I don’t have that kind of money. Two weeks, maybe. Max. But—”
    “Jonny.” It took him another second to say the next words, but when he did, I realized why he had been so hesitant. “You don’t need money.”
    My first instinct was irritation, as it always was when he talked about money. But hot on its heels came anger, and I tried to beat it back. But my voice was harsher than it should have been when I answered him. “You want me to allow you to support me?”
    Another moment of silence, and then, “Yes.”
    “No.”
    “I have plenty, love. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. And then, when we come back in four months, or six—”
    “ Six months ?”
    “—you can find a job then. We could—”
    “No!” I said, louder, and he stopped short. He pulled away from me, almost as if I had slapped him. “No,” I said, gentler this time. “I can’t do that, Cole. Let’s go for two weeks. I can spare that—”
    “And then you’ll be working again, and we’ll never get anything more than that,” he said, and I could hear him fighting to sound normal, although I suspected he was near tears again. I didn’t understand. I couldn’t see how this could mean so much.
    “Cole….” What could I say? “I just can’t. I’m sorry.”
    He was silent. And then,