He glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes but kept working, his head tilted down. “No, hardly ever. I barely see him at all anymore.”

I paused, reflecting on that. Especially since this was the first time in our entire conversation that William had shown an emotion—regret. I watched him as he quietly continued his work. He looked sad, lonely. He missed his cousin, who had likely been one of his closest friends—and yet they worked in the same building every day! What did that say about Adam? Why employ a cousin, someone who was once a good friend, and then never spend time with him?

It was true Adam’s work kept him immensely busy, but I was certain he could manage thirty minutes to sit with William over lunch once a week.

I decided to change the subject. “I play DE. Did you design anything I know?”

“I’m a colorist. I fill in the color on other peoples’ designs.”

“So did you work on any designs I’d know?”

“Probably,” he said and I couldn’t help but smile.

“Don’t tell her any game secrets, Liam. She’ll try to weasel anything she can out of you,” came a dry voice from the doorway and I turned to Adam, who stood watching us.

William didn’t even look up when his cousin spoke. He just shrugged. “I don’t know any.”

Adam came into the room and walked up behind his cousin to look at what he was doing. “Oh, I remember her. Didn’t you have her wearing yellow before?”

“Different figure,” William grunted.

“So Adam, I heard you used to be a GM for Dungeons and Dragons.”

He glanced at the shelf above William’s head. “Yeah, a long time ago. Liam likes to keep painting the figurines even though we haven’t played in almost a decade.”

“He does an awesome job. Maybe you guys should play again sometime.” Adam shot me a curious look but said nothing. I could interpret the expression though. It said something along the lines of: Like I have the time for that?

We were called to dinner and ate on the back patio around a gorgeous pool. Britt regaled me with more funny stories from Adam’s adolescence while he bore the usual brand of family humiliation stoically.

DJ, however, brought up a blush on both of our faces when he asked Adam if he’d kissed me yet. Britt shooed him away before Adam could answer.

I offered to help with the dishes and Adam collected them for me, standing at my shoulder to rinse and dry after I’d washed. We didn’t talk much. I was at a loss for what to say. The questions swirled in my mind and knotted at the base of my throat in tight confusion. Why had Adam brought me here? Why risk introducing me to his entire family when he knew damn well I would never be in his life after our contract had been fulfilled? They were a delightful family and I was glad to know he’d had some happiness after the heartbreaks of his childhood.

When we were saying our good-byes, about to walk out the door, William stopped me and placed a small object in my hand. It was one of the figurines I had been admiring earlier. “Adam says you play a Spiritual Enchantress in DE. I thought you might like this,” he said, his eyes never meeting mine.

I looked down at the figure in the dim light and sure enough, it was a non-scantily-clad sorceress waving a huge staff above her head while preparing to conjure a spell. She had a long black hair and a red cloak that billowed about her. She was intricately rendered, a tiny work of art.

“Thank you, William. It’s perfect.”

Adam wrapped his hand around mine and we bid everyone good-bye as he pulled me to his car.

Back at my house, after a mostly quiet ride home, he walked me to my door. We stood on the doorstep and he looked into my eyes. “Thanks for coming with me tonight, Emilia,” he said.

“I had fun. But…” I shook my head. He tilted his head toward me, asking the question without speaking it, so I responded. “Why would you introduce me to your family? Won’t they wonder what happened, when we finally…?”

His eyes fixed on mine, serious, sincere. “Because you asked me and I wanted to show you.”

“Asked you what?”

“You asked me who I love. They’re who I love.”

He bent and kissed my cheek and stood at the doorstep while I let myself in and turned on my lights, then he faded into the darkness. That ache in my base of my throat was rising again. I was simultaneously dreading and anticipating the next time he’d call me. Because I knew between now and then he would never be far from my thoughts. I’d think about him while doing my drudge tasks at work. I’d think about him while writing my blog. I’d think about him while running errands, cleaning the house. And I’d worry. I’d worry about how I’d pick up the pieces when it was all over.