Coda Books 04 - Strawberries for Dessert (MM)

looked at me like I was a moron. “I never said it was, Jon.”
    Good point. “But I don’t think that justifies him being a bigoted asshole.”
    I wasn’t really sure what to say to that, and I was afraid that anything I did say would only get me in trouble again. I finally settled for saying a third time, “I’m sorry.”
    She smiled at me. “I’m sorry, too.”
    “Am I forgiven?”
    “Yes,” she said as she pulled a donut out of the bag. “But you’re still an idiot.”
    Three days later I had a dinner date with my dad. I had been avoiding him since Cole had left me. I knew he would ask about it, and
    I wasn’t sure I would be able to face it.
    “I thought Cole was coming,” he said as I sat down.
    It hurt more than I could believe, but I was ready to say the words. “He left me.”
    He didn’t say anything for a few moments. He just sat there looking at me. “I’m sorry,” he said at last.
    “I know you think he’s a fruitcake.”
    He shrugged. “He is. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t like him.”
    “Because he made Mom’s stroganoff? Or because he had a condo in Vail?”
    “Neither one, Jon,” he said gently. “I liked him because he made you happy.”
    I had to look down at the table. I didn’t want my father to see me cry. “Yes,” I whispered. “He did.”

Date: August 2
    From: Cole
    To: Jared
    Sweets, I know you’re probably terribly upset with me. You’ve been emailing over and over and I haven’t replied. It’s dreadfully inappropriate, I know, and I hope you won’t hold it against me because the truth is, you’re the only person I can be honest with. Partly it’s because we’ve known each other so long. But mostly it’s because I don’t have to face you when I admit to you how terribly, terribly much I miss him.
    I’ve been in New York for the past several weeks. I keep telling myself that I’m leaving for Paris soon, but I can’t make myself do it.
    Somehow, having only a continent between us seems bearable. Having an ocean between us does not.
    He’s tried to call me many times, but I never answer. I had hoped to avoid him until… until when? I don’t know. Until I could think of him without my heart breaking all over again, I guess. But it’s not to be.
    Something has come up, and it seems I will have to face him sooner than I had hoped. I’m sick with fear, just thinking about it. I know he will be strong, and I will be weak like I always am. I hate myself for it.
    The thing is, Sweets, this could be the answer. It’s not contrived. It’s not my doing. It’s a happy coincidence, and it could fix everything. If only he will see.

    I FOUND a job. It was an entry-level position at a large accounting firm. My salary was half what I had been making before, and I found myself in a pool of hard workers who were ten years younger than me or more. I watched them jockey for position as they tried to decide which of the partners to ingratiate themselves to. They worked overtime, although being on salary, they never got paid for it. They were exactly as I had been, and I found them absurd.
    My position did have great potential for advancement, but I discovered quickly that I did not care. Being at the bottom of the ladder, there was very little expected of me, and I was happy to let the younger men fight and beg for the tiny advancements that were handed down. I no longer had to travel. I sold my condo in Vegas and was glad to be rid of it. My phone didn’t ring at all hours of the day. I never worked more than forty hours in a week, something I hadn’t been able to do in years, and at the end of each day, I went home. When I walked out of the office at five o’clock, I didn’t give my job another thought until I walked back in the next day at eight. It was somehow incredibly liberating.
    One Saturday, three weeks into my new job, my cell phone rang.
    It surprised me. Between Cole leaving and losing my job, it hardly ever rang anymore. I was even more surprised when I looked at the screen and saw who it was.
    I couldn’t even answer at first. My heart was pounding and my palms sweating. My head was spinning with all of the possible reasons he might be calling now. I prayed it was to fix things between us, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up.
    “Hello?” I answered, my heart in my throat.
    He was quiet for a second, but then he said, “It’s me.” His voice was off, like he wanted to use his normal, lilting cadence but couldn’t quite pull it