On the weekends, Ryker’s friends would stop by and spend time with him, or take him out somewhere. I got used to him coming home after midnight on those occasions, and it drove home even more how different we were, fundamentally, and why we would never be a couple.
Because that was what I wanted. A long-term relationship with someone who accepted me as I was, and I him. And it was torture watching him in my home, sitting next to him on the couch as we watched a show, helping him with the laundry, arguing over how to cook a pot roast.
He would ask me about the house and what else needed to be done, and I would give him small tasks he could handle sitting down, the few times he didn’t have a friend or two hanging around for an hour or so. I didn’t want it to end, but I knew it would. I was
