Ghosted

“Why don’t we leave them to it and head home?” I suggest.

“Home,” Jonathan says. “Sounds nice.”

The fresh blue notebook lays on the coffee table, the gel pen on top of it, the ink almost depleted because I’ve used it so much.

Jonathan pauses in front of it in the living room. “I see you got my gift.”

“Of course,” I say, slipping my arms around him from behind, resting my head against his back. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he says, pulling me around into a hug.

He holds me, and I feel like I’m melting in his arms, the warmth swallowing me up. I could get used to it.

Get used to having him around.

“How long are you here for?” I ask, dreading his possible answer that being here is temporary. He brought nothing with him—no clothes, not even his phone. For all I know, he’s just passing through.

“I told you before I left,” he says. “I’m here for as long as I’m wanted.”

“That’s not a real answer, Jonathan.”

“Why isn’t it?”

“Because I’ve wanted you since I was seventeen years old. Saying that is like promising forever. I need a real answer.”

He’s quiet for a moment, resting his head on top of mine before he asks, “What’s wrong with forever?”

“Nothing,” I say, “as long as you mean it.”

“Would you believe me if I promised it?”

“Yes,” I whisper. “That’s why I need you not to.”

He sighs, loosening his hold a bit to look at me. His eyes scan my face as a slight smile touches his lips. “I might’ve destroyed my career today.”

I blink at him. “What?”

“It’s a long story,” he says, “but I just can’t keep doing it.”

“But that’s your dream.”

“Dreams change,” he says. “The way I was living... I was miserable. I want my life back, and I’m taking it back, because I’ve wasted too much time. I’ll never give up on acting. It’s who I am. But it’s not all I am. I’m a father, and I want to be the man you thought I’d be. I’d be so much happier doing community theater, if it came to that, as long as I got to come home to you, than I ever was being Johnny Cunning without you. So if you want forever, goddamn it, I’ll be there.”

My heart, it hammers hard in my chest, viciously battering my ribcage. I want to say so much, but I don’t even know where to start. Guilt. Fear. Excitement. A whole swarm of butterflies flutter in my stomach. “Forever.”

He nods, whispering, “I promise.”

“Ta-da!” Maddie’s excited yell shatters the moment as she runs into the room, dressed in her Breezeo costume. We’ve been home ten minutes and she’s already abandoned the snowflake getup. “Look, Daddy! We’re the same!”

Jonathan laughs. “We are.”

“Come on,” she says, grabbing his hand and tugging on it, yanking him away from me. “We can play, ‘cuz you’re home now!”

Jonathan shoots me a conflicted look.

“Go on.” I wave him away. “Go have your fun without me.”

He manages to sneak a quick kiss before Maddie drags him to her bedroom. They play for hours, stopping only to grab sandwiches for dinner.

Darkness has fallen by the time Jonathan resurfaces, cornering me in the kitchen. He wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses my neck. I hum as tingles flow down my spine. “You done playing Breezeo now?”

“I’m just getting started,” he says, turning me around so I’m facing him. “Maddie’s asleep, so I think it’s your turn to have a little fun. I remember promising once that I’d do whatever I could for you to someday see me in this costume.”

My face grows warm. “You remember that?”

“Of course,” he says. “It’s the whole reason I auditioned.”

“You told me your manager talked you out of that.”

“He did, but I said fuck it. He told me I had no shot in hell, but you believed in me, so I went for it, and look at me now.”

I can hardly bring myself to look at him. It’s impossible to wrap my mind around. It’s like my wildest fantasy is converging with reality and my brain can’t handle it. How is this real? I run my hands along his broad chest, feeling the slick material. “Do you get to keep this?”

“Not supposed to,” he says. “They might even call the police because I took it.”

“Hmm, then we probably ought to make good use of it while we can, huh?”

“Probably ought to,” he agrees.

I squeal when he grabs ahold of me, lifting me up. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I cling to him as he staggers to the bedroom. He almost drops me twice, the material so slick I nearly lose my hold, and I laugh when we fall onto the bed, him landing right on top of me.

He kisses me, mouth eagerly exploring as he strips me out of my clothes, hands touching and caressing every inch of my body. His fingers, they explore, making me a writhing mess with just a few strokes.