"What is it that makes us complete? Love? I honestly don't think so," he paused and shook his head. Mack took a deep breath and folded his tissue.
Three, I counted. He would always fold them three times.
He placed the hanky next to his cup and smiled at me. "I'm sorry. I've been thinking about what to tell you—"
"I'm seeing someone else now," I said flatly, looking into those cloudy brown eyes. Wondering—no, wishing for a flash of sadness. Nothing. I shrugged and took a sip of my coffee. "It's okay. I'm over it. No hard feelings."
He hesitated. "I...I see." He picked up the tissue. Opening and closing his fingers around it, as if testing its softness. "So my star has found a new light."
I needed a new light because I don't have one of my own. My world was plunged into darkness when you walked out of it. I could have said those words. Cursed and screamed and clawed at his face. But I didn't. I can't. Instead, I said, "How are you? Where have you been all these years?"
He smiled and drummed his fingers on the table. Now he's nervous. "Searching for my purpose."
We could have done it together. I swallowed those words too. "You're not making any sense, Macky."
He bit his lip and I found myself thinking of the first time we kissed. "My friends call me M now." He smiled and I almost pulled him into my arms. "Mack and Macky's too common, Jean."
"Why, Mack?" This time I couldn't stop. I sobbed. "I loved you."
He looked away, tears gleaming on the corners of his eyes. "You knew, didn't you?"
I did. God, help me. I did. "No."
"Jean... I'm gay."
