Chapter 8
“He loves you,” Simon observed. “Do you want me to help unpack?”
“No. You remember you versus the scarves from last time. I’ll just be a sec.” Deflections, diversions; well, Ben could go and unpack clothing if that’d make his husband feel better. Space, time, room to breathe.
Simon wandered over to the window. Touched a curtain. Ben, hands unfolding a button-down, waited.
“So familiar,” Simon said. “Familiar, and not…this was my room for a while, you know. Only about three years. Steve redecorated after I moved out, or more accurately the designer he was dating redecorated everything. A portfolio project. There was a photo shoot. The past meets the present, modernizing tradition, all of that.”
Ben, who hadknown that, encouraged, “It came out nice. Sophisticated. But I like our house better.”