I walked out the sliding door into the backyard, to find a shirtless Justin sitting at the edge of the pool, two glasses sitting on the concrete beside him. He said nothing as I took a seat beside him. I had spent five minutes in the bathroom, crying for my relationship. I was sure Justin knew, but he didn’t bother me. He gave me the time that I needed. He handed me a drink, watching me bring it to my lips and take a small sip. It was sweet. I could barley taste the strong clear liquor; instead, it tasted like orange juice. Screwdrivers were good.
“Thanks.”
“For what?” the young man asked, taking a deep breath, as he eased his body into the water.
“Damon.”
“I think you would’ve done just fine,&
