He sat in the kitchen and watched as I cooked spaghetti. “Woody…Serge said you stopped talking for a couple days after I acted like a turd. I…I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be the cause of a setback, and God, I felt like such a shit heel when he told me.”
I groaned. “Jesus, can Serge ever keep his mouth shut?”
Rafe gave me a tiny smile. “He loves you like a brother and would do anything for you, and you for him. It was always the two of you, wasn’t it? Thick as thieves. I was a little jealous of that special relationship you both seemed to have, and then later…”
“Later, what?”
“Nothing.” All of a sudden he wouldn’t look at me. “I should go. I’m on shift tomorrow and I’m tired. Being sober wears me out, funny enough.”
“Not so fast, man. We’re talking now, so let’s make the most of it.”
Rafe stared at the table as he tapped the side of the can. “I was fighting feelings for…someone.”
Something occurred to me as I shared out our meal. “Have you had sex with a guy, Rafe?”