Ring - 7. Chapter 7

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the warmth, the kind that wraps around you, sinks into your skin, and makes you forget the cold edges of the world outside. The second thing was Jon.

As I lie there, the quiet of the night settling around us, I realize just how much I enjoyed the time I spent with Jon. It wasn’t just the physical connection, it wasn’t even the first time I’d shared something like that with someone. But there was something different about being with him. Something more than the usual one-off encounters or casual hookups.

I felt seen. Heard. There was an ease between us that I hadn’t realized I was missing. The laughter, the banter, the way the time passed without the usual awkwardness. It felt real, like it could be something more than just a one-night thing. And that thought, the possibility that it could turn into something deeper left me with a strange sense of longing. A longing for a connection I hadn’t realized I wanted until now.

For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I was just going through the motions. There was something about him that made me think there might be more to it. More to us. Maybe I wasn’t ready to admit it yet, but it felt right. And that scared me, in a way. Because what if it wasn’t mutual? What if it was just me, hoping for something that wasn’t even on his radar?

He was lying beside me, his face peaceful in sleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The early morning light crept in through the blinds, casting soft shadows across his features. He looked so at ease, so… right. I couldn’t stop staring, couldn’t believe what we’d done, what had happened between us.

My skin still hummed with the memory of him, every nerve alive like electricity coursing through me. It wasn’t just the physical connection, it was the feeling of truly being with someone, of sharing something raw, something real. I hadn’t felt that in so long. Not since Cammie. Not that I could, or should compare what we shared to what I had with Cammie. This was different. This was me.

I had been so focused on work, on being there for Alex, on rebuilding my life in the safest, least disruptive way possible. Somewhere along the line, I had forgotten what it meant to feel. But last night with Jon, it was like everything I’d buried deep inside had come rushing back. The weight I’d carried for years seemed to lift, replaced by something light, something new.

This is what it’s supposed to feel like, I thought. To connect with someone, to let down the walls I’d built so carefully, to let someone see me for who I really am. Jon didn’t just see me, he accepted me, completely, without hesitation.

I smiled to myself, running a hand over my face as I lay back against the pillow. It felt like a whole new chapter had opened in my life, a blank sheet of paper, ready for me to write anything I wanted on it. For the first time in years, I wasn’t scared of what might come next.

I glanced at Jon again, at the way his hair fell over his forehead, the way his lips twitched slightly in sleep, as if he were dreaming. I wanted to memorize this moment, to hold onto it, because it felt like the start of something I never thought I’d find again.

Being with Jon wasn’t just invigorating, it was freeing. And as I lay there, the sun rising steadily in the sky, I felt something I hadn’t in a long, long time: hope for the future.

As the sun slowly brightened the room, Jon began to stir. He stretched lazily, his sculpted chest and arms catching the soft morning light. His square jawline, black hair tousled from sleep, he looked effortlessly beautiful. I couldn’t help but stare. When he turned to me and caught my gaze, a slow, warm smile spread across his face. He reached over, his hand caressing my cheek.

“You’re up early,” he said, his voice still rough with sleep.

“Just a few minutes ago. I’ve been watching you sleep,” I replied, feeling the warmth in my cheeks as I admitted it.

Jon chuckled softly. “That’s sweet, Jim. In a kind of creepy way.”

I laughed, the sound bubbling up before I could stop it. “Okay, fair. Creepy but honest.”

It felt good to laugh, like shaking off the weight of years I didn’t even realize I’d been carrying. Jeez, I felt like I was 18 years old again, discovering emotions I thought had been packed away for good.

“I’m kidding,” Jon said, grinning as he propped himself up on one elbow. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

“Honestly? I don’t know.”

“Well,” he said, stretching again, “first things first. I could use a nice hot shower and some coffee if you’ve got any.”

“Yeah, I do. It’s one of those Keurig machines, though. I’m not big into coffee.”

“That’ll do.” Jon paused, the corner of his mouth quivering into a small smile. “Although… if we, you know, keep seeing each other, you might have to invest in a real coffee machine. Especially if I’m spending evenings, or weekends, here.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, and I saw the flicker of hesitation cross his face. He quickly added, “Uh… sorry, Jim. I don’t mean to push or scare you. We can take this as slowly as you want or at whatever pace works for you.”

He shifted, his expression softening as he continued. “But can I tell you something? I like you. A lot. I’d really like to keep seeing you. And not just for the sex which, by the way, was amazing but for you. You’re funny, kind, considerate. You’re a good man, Jim, and good men are hard to find. I had one once, and I lost him. I don’t want to make the same mistake. But…” He hesitated, meeting my eyes with a steady gaze. “What do you want?”

The question caught me off guard. What did I want? I looked at him, his earnest expression making my heart ache in the best way. I want to raise Alex. I want to advance in my career. I want stability. But even as those familiar priorities ran through my mind, they didn’t feel like the whole answer anymore.

“I want the same things you do, Jon,” I said finally, my voice calm but sure. “But there’s something we haven’t talked about. It’s been on my mind for a long time, and that’s Alex.”

Jon nodded, his brow furrowing slightly. I could see he was listening, really listening.

“Jon, I enjoy being with you, and last night was… incredible. But how do I deal with Alex? The age difference between us is one thing, but you’re his coach. He looks up to you differently. You’re not just some guy in my life, you’re a role model to him. How do I handle that?”

Jon lay back on the bed, his hands resting behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. There was a quiet tension in the air, and I could feel it hanging between us. He shifted slightly, rubbing the back of his neck like he was gathering his thoughts, then finally turned his gaze toward me. His expression was calm, but there was something serious in his eyes, like he was about to say something important.

“Jim,” he began, his voice steady, “I get where you’re coming from. Completely. I mean, honesty’s important and I wouldn’t want to hide things from Alex either. But…” He exhaled, leaning forward now, his arms resting on the table. “Why don’t we just see where this goes for now? One night doesn’t define the rest of our lives, right?”

Jim nodded, his hand tightening slightly around the mug in front of him. He didn’t respond right away, his gaze darting to the window, where the first light of morning filtered through the blinds. Jon noticed the hesitation and continued.

“I’m serious, Jim. I want to keep seeing you. But I think taking things slow makes sense not just for Alex, but for us, too. I don’t want to rush this. And… keeping it between us for now feels like the right call. It’s not about hiding it’s about respecting boundaries.”

Jon paused, watching for my reaction. “Granted,” he added with a faint, self-deprecating smile, “maybe we should’ve thought about this a little more before last night happened. But here’s the thing I don’t think we could’ve planned this if we tried. We’re not colleagues working in the same office or anything. The running clinic? That’s a part-time thing. And yeah, I’m Alex’s coach, but… we could’ve met anywhere, you know? The fact that we connected like this, it feels rare to me.”

Jim’s lips quirked upward at Jon’s last words, but his grip on the mug didn’t relax. “Yeah,” he said softly. “That makes sense. You’re right, it does feel rare.”

Jon tilted his head, sensing there was more Jim wasn’t saying. “Okay,” I continued, my voice a little steadier now. “For now, we’ll work around Alex’s schedule. I’ll stay away from his boxing sessions so things don’t get awkward for anyone, him, you, me. One step at a time.”

Jon’s smile returned, a little brighter this time. “That’s a good idea. We can play it by ear.” He hesitated, turning on his side and facing me. “Look, I know there might be times when we hit an awkward moment or have to think on our feet, but… I don’t want what we have to ruin things between you and Alex. He’s a good kid. You’ve both been through a lot.”

The sincerity in Jon’s voice made Jim’s chest tighten. As I ran a hand through my hair, “He is a good kid,” I said, “And that’s exactly why I need to get this right.”

“You will,” Jon said firmly. “We both will.”

The quiet settled between us, but it wasn’t tense anymore. Jon reached across and put his hand on my arm, “For what it’s worth, I think you’re handling this the right way. One step at a time.”

“Thanks, Jon. And… thanks for understanding.” I replied.

“Of course.” Jon’s grin turned playful, breaking the weight of the moment. “Now, let’s get that coffee going before I start writing a novel about how great you are... which, by the way is another hobby of mine.”

I laughed, the sound light and easy. For the first time in a while, I felt the knot in my stomach begin to loosen. One step at a time—I could handle that.

As Jon got out of bed, I couldn't help but watch. He stretched as he sat on the edge of the bed, his muscles shifting smoothly beneath his skin. The light caught the definition of his back, the broad shoulders tapering down to a trim waist, but it was his backside that really drew my attention. It was sculpted, the lines of his glutes tight and defined, a testament to the hours he spent training. Every movement seemed fluid, purposeful, as he stood and walked, and I couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly strong he looked.

As Jon walked around the bed and headed toward the bathroom, I couldn't help but keep my eyes on him. He turned around suddenly, catching me in the act.

"What?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," I replied, a smile tugging at my lips. "I just can't help but stare at you."

Jon’s grin widened. "Well, your shower is big enough for two. Why don’t we see what kind of trouble we can get into there?"

I didn't need any more convincing. I slid out of bed and followed Jon into the bathroom, the anticipation already rising as the sound of the hot water started to fill the room.

After we finished showering, Jon slipped into his boxers, and once again, I found myself staring. It felt like I was 18 again, the way my heart raced. I dried off quickly, got into my own boxers, and we headed into the kitchen. I grabbed a couple of coffee pods, dropped one into the machine, and started it up.

I opened the fridge, unsure of what to make. Normally, I'd probably just head out for breakfast, but today felt different.

“Stand aside, Jim. I got this,” Jon said, his voice confident as he nudged me aside.

“Yeah? Okay. But just know, there’s not much to work with,” I replied, half-joking.

“No worries. We’ll have to go grocery shopping, but let me poke around first,” he said, already opening the fridge door.

“Not at all… poke around all you want,” I said with a playful grin.

That earned me a look from Jon, a teasing smile on his lips.

“Seems like someone’s ready for another round?” Jon teased, his eyes scanning me before locking onto mine.

I glanced down at myself, my face flushing with heat. It had been a while since I felt this way, but one thing was for sure: everything was definitely working just fine, maybe even in overdrive at the moment.

I leaned against the counter, watching as Jon moved around the kitchen with effortless precision. It was clear he knew exactly what he was doing. He opened the fridge and surveyed its contents with the expertise of someone who’d done this a thousand times. I couldn't help but admire the way he handled everything , from the casual way he cracked the eggs to the confident flick of his wrist as he chopped the leftover vegetables.

"That’s a good-looking fridge you’ve got here," Jon said, glancing over at me with a grin, "But we’re going to have to get a few things for next time. I’ll work with what I can find, though."

I chuckled, watching as he expertly threw a splash of oil into the pan. "Impressive, I didn’t think you’d be able to make anything with... whatever this is," I said, gesturing to the fridge, which was a mishmash of random ingredients.

Jon laughed, clearly not phased by the limited options. "Trust me, I’ve made worse with less. This is nothing." He grabbed the leftover veggies, giving them a quick rinse before tossing them into the hot pan. The sizzle filled the air, and the smell was already starting to make my mouth water.

I stepped back, content to just watch him. It was amazing how effortlessly he made it look. Jon moved like someone who belonged in the kitchen, his hands sure and quick, gliding across the cutting board. The aroma of sesame oil filled the room as he reached into the spice cabinet, sprinkling a little bit of garlic powder and chili flakes into the mix.

I couldn't stop myself from asking, “How do you do it? I mean, you just opened the fridge, looked at what was there, and made something out of it. I can barely boil water without setting off the smoke detector.”

Jon grinned, stirring the veggies and eggs in the pan. “It’s all about improvisation. You learn to make do with what you have. Same thing with running a clinic or training a client. You use what works, and you make it your own. The goal is to make it something people will remember.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You make cooking sound like an art form.”

“Of course it is,” he said, chuckling. “In fact, it is an art form. That’s why I enjoy it so much. It’s my way of switching gears. You can create something out of nothing. And it doesn’t hurt that it’s incredibly rewarding. Plus, I like sharing it.”

I leaned back against the counter, watching Jon as he effortlessly worked. It wasn’t just the food he was making that impressed me; it was his natural ability to turn the mundane into something extraordinary. Whether it was teaching Alex or whipping up a meal with the ingredients on hand, Jon had a way of making everything seem effortless.

"Okay, now for the finishing touch," Jon said, adding a generous sprinkle of cheese to the sizzling pan before stirring it all together. "Here’s a little fusion of Korean and whatever we’ve got."

I couldn’t help but laugh. "Fusion cooking. I like that."

Jon flashed me a quick smile before plating the food. “Well, you like me, so I’m sure you’ll like this too.”

I chuckled at his confidence, raising an eyebrow. “Is that how it works? I like you, so I’ll like whatever you make?”

Jon shrugged, that playful gleam in his eye never fading. “Exactly. It’s all about trust.” He sat down and leaned back in his chair, watching me closely as I took my first bite.

The flavors hit me immediately , a perfect blend of spicy and savory with just the right amount of heat. It wasn’t just breakfast; it was a taste of something familiar yet new, just like Jon. I smiled, looking at him over the rim of my plate.

“Damn, Jon,” I said, taking another bite. “You were right. This is incredible. I guess liking you does mean I like your cooking too.”

Jon grinned, pleased with my reaction. “Told you. Cooking’s about chemistry, just like everything else. Us, for instance.”

I smiled to myself, appreciating not only the meal but the way Jon’s presence seemed to make everything better. Maybe I wasn’t the best at making meals, but I was sure glad I had Jon around to show me how it’s done.

After breakfast, we cleaned up, and Jon and I both got dressed.

"So, what do you want to do today?" Jon asked, his voice laced with curiosity. Then he paused, clearly second-guessing himself. "Sorry, I’m jumping into things too quickly, right?"

I chuckled softly, shaking my head. "Yes, but I don’t mind. Jon, I like being around you. Why don’t we do something together? Maybe we could go pick out that coffee machine. I need more reasons to have you back here, right?"

Jon’s smile was quick, and his eyes twinkled as he leaned back slightly, clearly amused. "Well, right now I’m looking at the main reason I’d like to come back, but sure, a decent coffee machine sounds good."

We both headed out of the apartment and down to the parking garage. As I unlocked the car, Jon opened the door and slid into the front seat.

"Let's head over to this shop out in Richmond. They sell a lot of great stuff, and I know the owner. He’ll be able to give us a good deal on a coffee machine," Jon said as we started driving.

As we drove, the conversation flowed easily, talking about everything from random memories to some of Jon’s favorite spots in the city. The quiet hum of the road settled in the space between us, but it didn’t feel awkward. It felt easy. Comfortable.

We finally arrived at the store, parking in the lot and getting out. As we walked in, Jon spotted his friend, who I assumed was the owner. They greeted each other warmly, speaking in Korean, their voices flowing smoothly together.

“Jon, it’s good to see you. What brings you in today?”

I stood there, trying to follow along but quickly realizing I was lost in the conversation. I glanced between Jon and his friend, both laughing lightly, the rhythm of their conversation flowing effortlessly.

After a few seconds, Jon turned to me, realizing I wasn’t part of the conversation anymore. He switched back to English, his smile sheepish. “Sorry, Jim. This is Eric. He owns the place. I was telling him we’re looking for an inexpensive coffee maker, something that won’t set us back too much but makes good coffee.”

Eric and I shook hands, and he led us through the store to show us a few models. We spent about thirty minutes looking at different coffee machines. I eventually picked one that was reasonably priced and did everything I needed without being too fancy.

As I handed over the payment, Jon leaned in, his voice playful as he caught my eye. “So, Jon, does this mean we’re engaged now?”

Jon burst into laughter. “Oh no, definitely not. If we’re getting engaged, I want the full treatment. Fancy dinner, night out, kneeling down with the ring... Let’s just call this..." He paused, tapping his chin for a moment, "our ‘coffee machine commitment.’"

I raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smile. “Our ‘coffee machine commitment,’ huh? Sounds pretty official.”

Jon grinned. “It’s as close to an engagement as I’m willing to go for now.” His playful tone made me feel like he was teasing me, but it wasn’t in a bad way. There was a comfort in it, a lightness I didn’t expect.

The conversation drifted off as we walked out of the store, heading deeper into the mall. I could feel the change in the air, lighter, but with an undercurrent of something unspoken between us. Jon led the way, his energy shifting with every step as we strolled through the corridors of the Aberdeen Centre, which was buzzing with activity.

We passed by a few shops before the subtle change in atmosphere caught my attention. The Japanese art exhibit was scattered throughout the mall, each piece tucked into different corners, often unexpected, but still impossible to miss. There was no dedicated space for it, but in a way, that felt fitting, just like how the Japanese-Canadian experience had been sidelined for so many years.

Jon glanced at a series of photos showing Japanese-Canadians being moved into internment camps during WWII, the faces in the pictures a mix of resolve and pain. “I didn’t know much about this part of Canadian history,” he said quietly. “It’s pretty wild to think about how people were treated here, just because of where they came from.”

I nodded, my stomach tightening a little as I took in the photos. “Yeah. It’s something we don’t talk about much. The Japanese-Canadians were forced into those camps, and their homes and businesses were taken away. It’s a history that gets brushed under the rug, you know?”

Jon turned to me, his expression thoughtful. “It’s unbelievable. And yet, here we are, walking through this mall, with pieces of their legacy on display, like they never really disappeared.”

I couldn’t help but think about the history that shaped the place we were standing in. “They were erased from the narrative for so long, but pieces of them remain. This,” I said, gesturing at the art and artifacts, “is part of reclaiming that history, I guess.”

We moved on to a section with old family photographs. A few of them were more personal, snapshots of life before the war, before everything changed. The faces in the pictures looked like my grandparents and great-grandparents, a reminder that history isn’t always just something in the past; it’s still alive, still shaping us.

“I’m glad it’s being remembered,” Jon said, a softness in his voice. “This stuff, these memories, they deserve to be seen. It’s about time.”

I let out a quiet breath, nodding again. “Yeah, they do.”

We spent a few more minutes in silence, just taking it all in. There was a quiet reverence in the air as we observed the artwork, the stories captured in each piece. When we finally moved toward the exit, Jon broke the silence, his usual energy returning.

“Well, that was a lot to take in,” he said, his tone a little lighter now. “You hungry?”

I smiled, the weight of the history still lingering but grateful for Jon’s ability to shift the mood. “Yeah, I could eat. Let’s grab something.”

As we walked out of the exhibit space and back into the bustle of the mall, I felt a quiet appreciation for what we had just experienced. It wasn’t just about looking at art or history, it was about acknowledging those who had been silenced for far too long.

We made our way up to the food court, which felt fitting, it was on the top floor of the mall. From there, you could sit by the many open eating areas and get a view of the city below. The food court had at least a dozen different restaurants, each offering a wide variety of cuisines. The hum of conversation and the clattering of trays filled the air as we walked around.

“One thing you’ll find here, Jim, is that most of the food is authentic,” Jon said, gesturing toward the diverse selection. “There might be some Canadian influences here and there, but for the most part, it’s as close to the real deal as you can get. You okay with that?”

I chuckled, a bit sheepish. “Of course! I mean, my idea of ‘authentic’ is probably Taco Bell or Panda Express… which I’m sure are nowhere near the mark. So, yeah, I’m looking forward to this.”

Jon grinned, clearly amused. I couldn’t help but return the smile, feeling a little lighter than I had before. There was something about being with him that made everything easier.

Eventually, Jon led me to a restaurant called Saboten.

“You’ll like this place,” he said as we approached, “It’s internationally renowned, always busy, but the food is amazing. Trust me, you’ll love it. You okay with me ordering for the both of us?”

“Of course!” I replied with a smirk. “Like I said, Panda Express was the closest I’ve ever been to ‘authentic,’ so you can’t go too wrong.”

Jon’s grin widened as he stepped up to the counter to place our order. “Shrimp and Shrimp Katsu-Don,” he told the cashier with confidence. I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the combination, but trusting his judgment.

After placing the order, we walked over to a small table near the window. As we waited for the food, I leaned back in my seat and glanced out over the city. The late afternoon sun was casting a warm glow over everything, making the view more serene than I had expected.

“So,” Jon said, breaking the silence. “What’s been keeping you busy lately? Besides work, I mean.”

There was something about being with Jon, his relaxed nature, the way he made everything feel easy, that made it easier to open up.

“Well, I’ve been trying to keep up with Alex’s schedule,” I said, shrugging slightly. “Between school, swimming, boxing... it feels like I don’t get a moment to breathe. It’s not bad, but sometimes I forget what it’s like to just… not be busy.”

Jon nodded, understanding. “I get that. Sometimes the best way to feel alive is to just do the opposite, do nothing. But hey, it sounds like Alex has a lot going on. Must be proud of him.”

I smiled. “I am. He’s been growing up fast. And honestly, I’m kind of amazed by how dedicated he is. Sometimes, I forget how much he’s changed.”

We both fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the bustling sound of the food court around us. It wasn’t uncomfortable, it felt like we were both sharing this small, peaceful moment together, before the food arrived.

“Aaaaah, food’s here. Dig in, Jim... bap meokja,” Jon said with a grin.

“Huh?” I looked at him, confused.

Jon laughed, clearly enjoying this. “That was Korean. I said, ‘Let’s eat.’ The informal version, of course. But since you’re older than me, I probably should’ve said bap meogeoyo instead.” He chuckled, clearly amused at my reaction.

I raised an eyebrow and smiled. “No… let’s stick with the informal version. What did you say again? Bap meokja? Right?”

Jon laughed, his eyes twinkling. “Yeah, bap meokja. That’s the one! Not bad for someone whose ‘Korean’ experience is limited to take-out menus. And me.”

I blushed at that but quickly recovered, flashing him a grin. “Hey, don’t knock my take-out knowledge. But seriously, I’m learning—baby steps.”

Jon gave me an approving nod. “You’re getting there, Jim. Next time, I’ll teach you some slang, too. Might need to catch up with your younger, cooler friend.”

I chuckled at that. “Let’s not get carried away. You can teach me slang when you start teaching me how to cook.”

Jon flashed me that grin, and my heart did something strange. He made it so easy to be around him, like the whole world could just fall away and we’d be left with nothing but this moment. And yet, as I smiled back, a knot started to form in my chest.

What the hell am I doing?

I tried to push the thought away, focusing on Jon’s easy laugh, the way his energy seemed to fill up the space around us. But it lingered, that feeling, like I was jumping into something too quickly. I barely knew him, yet here I was, already imagining a future. The way I looked at him, the way I felt when I was around him… I had to admit it was more than just a casual connection.

Was I just scared of growing old alone? It was a thought I’d been trying to avoid for a while now. It hadn’t hit me until recently, this nagging feeling that the years were slipping away. Maybe that’s why I was eager to dive in so quickly. Maybe that’s why everything about Jon felt so right, so... now.

But then the reality hit me. I was older than Jon. Was I rushing into this because I felt like time was running out? Was I chasing something just to avoid the emptiness I’d felt after the divorce? The truth was, I hadn’t taken the time to really heal, to figure out what I wanted or needed. It wasn’t just about me anymore. There was Alex, and there was Keith.

I cared about them both, especially Alex. His world had already been turned upside down, and I couldn’t afford to let my own anxieties mess with that. I hadn’t been the best father sometimes, and Keith and I were not even on talking terms. Was I trying to fill a void I didn’t even understand by jumping into something with Jon? Was I just afraid to be alone, or was I just looking for something to make up for everything I’d lost?

“Hey, you okay, Jim? You seem lost in thought,” Jon said, pulling me back to the moment. I realized I’d been zoning out and quickly shook myself back into the present with him.

“Yeah, no... nothing at all. Just enjoying this food. It really is good.” I smiled at him, trying to shake off the anxiety swirling in my mind. “I’m glad we did this. You know, most weekends are spent at home working or just lounging around. I’m actually glad to get out and enjoy myself for a change. It’s been a long time.”

Jon grinned, leaning back in his seat. “You have to treat yourself, Jim. Whether it’s with me or someone else or even by yourself, don’t let the world pass you by.”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” He always seemed to pick up on things I wasn’t saying, and somehow knew just what to say in return. It wasn’t anything profound or earth-shattering—but it was honest. He had a way of speaking truth without making you feel small. In moments like this, he seemed older than his years.

There was a brief silence, but Jon broke it with a softness that made me look up at him.

“Listen, Jim,” he said, his voice a little more serious now. “I know what you’re thinking. This is all moving fast, and I told you, we’ll take things at whatever pace you want. We’ll figure things out. If it doesn’t work out for us, it doesn’t. But at least we’ll have tried, right?”

I hesitated, feeling the weight of his words. “Right. Right…”

I didn’t know what else to say. There was a lot I was still figuring out in my head. I was worried, but at the same time, it felt right. It felt... easy, which was something I hadn’t experienced in a long time. Even the age difference didn’t feel like as big of a deal, though I still couldn’t shake the thought of how people might react. How would Jon’s family feel? And what about mine?

Then, of course, there was the ever-present question, how would I explain this to Alex when the time came?