Happily Ever After Isn't Easy Read online

  Happily Ever After Isn’t Easy

  By Jake C. Wallace

  How do you start a new life when your old one won’t let go?

  Freed from a marriage he entered because he feared coming out to his judgmental family, Gabe Reynolds feels his life is just starting—at forty-three. But what was supposed to be exciting and wonderful has been nothing but disappointing. The man he’s loved since they were teens broke his heart—again. Gabe has no clue how to meet men who are looking for more than one night, much less date them. Add to that his job as a mental health counselor, helping to keep his mentally ill ex-wife stable, and caring for children that belong to another man, and he has little time to look for Mr. Right.

  Just as Gabe is giving up, Brandt Sawyer, with his hard body and gorgeous eyes, crashes into Gabe’s life. Brandt pushes all Gabe’s buttons—though he could do without the younger man’s know-it-all attitude. Gabe never thought he could be so torn between wanting to punch a man and wanting to kiss him. Yet, as he gets to know Brandt, Gabe sees past the military-programmed ex-soldier and catches a glimpse of what could be his happily ever after.

  But with a troubled ex and young children involved, Gabe can’t just walk away from his past. Guilt is tearing him in every direction—maybe even away from the man he’s falling in love with.

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  More from Jake C. Wallace

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  About the Author

  By Jake C. Wallace

  Visit Dreamspinner Press

  Copyright

  This book is for my mother, Beverly. Without you, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. Your influence, your actions, your beliefs, have shaped who I am, made me a nonjudgmental, accepting person. You taught me the lessons that are most important in life. I am so lucky that you are my mom. I love you.

  Chapter 1

  GABE REYNOLDS wasn’t sure how he’d let the same shit happen to him again. He had to either be the most gullible, trusting guy on the planet or the biggest idiot. Life was supposed to get better, be better, be easier. He hadn’t expected his life after his divorce to be all hearts and flowers immediately, but he’d paid his dues, right?

  Twenty-one years with the wrong person, the wrong gender, living the same lie day in and day out, those had been his dues. He’d stayed even when the relationship had been little more than a roommate arrangement. He’d taken his duties seriously, tried to make it all work, done that noble thing, but nobility doesn’t equal happiness. He hadn’t even been the one to end it. But when the divorce fell into his lap, he’d run with it. Well, run was a strong word. He’d hidden for a while, then limped, all the while wondering how to start over, how to come out of that dark, cold closet. Almost three years later, he was no better off than he had been before the divorce.

  Focusing back on the computer screen, he reread the private message on Facebook again, had the words memorized by then, each one a reminder of the chance he’d taken and lost.

  I’m sorry, Gabe, for everything. Sorry for jumping in too soon after Jeff. I really wanted this to work….

  Gabe swallowed hard. There had to be something wrong with him, maybe something that told others he had excess baggage and wasn’t worth the hassle. He wasn’t young anymore. His body was slightly overweight, saggy in important places, because he loathed exercise and loved carbs, and at forty-three, his metabolism had slowed to a crawl. But he never imagined he’d be starting over at that late age with the need to impress anyone else.

  According to all those gay romance books, gay guys were supposed to be hard, chiseled, Adonis-like creatures with thick hair and strong chins, beautiful eyes and washboard abs. They were firefighters or cowboys or shape-shifters or vampires or dozens of other things more interesting than him. Gabe could only tick the box next to the thick hair, and even that was sort of a plain ashy brown color, longer on top and cropped close to his head on the sides. Even his eyes were a nondescript brown. Damn, it had been so much easier in his teens. What he wouldn’t give to have that skinny, practically hairless, bony twink body (without the acne and the raging hormones, of course). But without that body, he was too shy to go out and meet men. Shouldn’t he be able to go out, get his flirt on, and then in one heart-stopping moment meet his soul mate and live happily ever after? Even men believed in fairy tales. Yet his happily ever after was currently residing in the toilet with his marriage, one unrealized dream relationship, and his self-esteem.

  I know you said you thought about me all these years, hoped one day we could be together again and happy….

  He might not have been happy in his marriage, but he’d been content and complacent and sexually unsatisfied and frustrated and—oh, who was he kidding—fucking miserable, but he’d managed to bury everything deep inside without having a heart attack or an ulcer or stroke—yet.

  Okay, so maybe his self-esteem had taken a hard hit (his wife had gotten pregnant by the furnace guy), and he was a bit rusty in the dating realm (his last date was in 1990). Add to those the fact that he was a middle-aged gay man in a small town in northern New York after his heterosexual marriage had crashed and burned. What was supposed to be easy had become Mt. Everest. And Gabe had become an even lonelier and more confused man than he’d ever been during his sham of a marriage. At that point he’d wished for easy, begged for easy, dreamed of easy.

  He rubbed his temples as his stomach twisted in knots. For two weeks, he’d basically gone to work and then home to his little cottage, floundering, wallowing, whatever the term, in the broken remnants of his dream relationship with Tim, the one future light that had allowed him to keep his sanity while living a lie.

  I wanted us to be those boys we once were, totally in love and ready to experience life together. Life had been so easy back then, and for a moment, I wanted that uncomplicated forever love….

  Gabe now knew that happiness and love were fleeting concepts that weren’t within his grasp.

  But I had been foolish to think that we could recreate that past given all we’ve been through. The past is over, and I’m too lost in the now to be anything to anyone….

  Maybe someday Tim would be ready, but Gabe was done with relationships and their empty promises. Maybe someday Gabe’s heart would mend and he’d figure out how relationships worked and how to keep one. Until then….

  I’m sorry I can’t be your happily ever after.

  GABE SIPPED his bland black coffee minus the hazelnut creamer and sugar and grimaced. An amused chuckle pulled him from his morose thoughts.

  “Why’re you torturing yourself with that plain crap?” Betsy smiled over her own cup loaded with cream and sugar. Her chipper attitude that morning rained on his pity parade.

  Gabe placed his cup on the table, sighed heavily, and looked up at his younger, cuter, blonde-haired half sister across from him at his kitchen table.

  “You’ll understand when you’re over forty and just being within the
general vicinity of sugar and fat makes you gain weight.”

  She gave him an unimpressed grunt. “Hey, you’re talking to a woman here. We start gaining curves and weight at puberty, and after that it’s all downhill. Men? You get more distinguished and handsome as you age. We women just get old. And you’re not fat.”

  Gabe raked his hand through his short hair. When he lowered his hand, he narrowed his eyes at the few strands still wrapped around his fingers. Maybe the thinning part would come sooner than he thought. Next would be gray hairs. Can’t escape them forever.

  “No, just pleasantly plump, right?”

  Instead of the laugh he’d hoped for, Betsy only returned a contemplative look of sympathy that turned his stomach.

  “You’re really being hard on yourself. I know Tim did a number on you, but don’t let it rule your life. He’s not worth it.”

  Gabe shook his head. “I’m the one who’s apparently not worth it.” He hadn’t made the grade and had failed to get Tim.

  “Oh my God!”

  Her outburst startled Gabe. His knees hit the table, and his coffee sloshed over the rim of his cup.

  “That man’s an egotistical, self-centered ass. He played you, used you, and when he was done, he dropped you. He’s changed, I told you that, but… I know you wanted it to work.”

  Gabe shrugged indifferently. “Maybe if I was a few pounds lighter, more exciting and interesting—”

  “Enough.” She raised her hand determinedly. “You’re a good person and smart, good-looking”—she narrowed her eyes as if daring him to contradict her—“successful, respectful, respected, and so damn noble at times you should be royalty. You stayed in a marriage for over twenty years because you spoke some vows in a church, even though your marriage sucked and you were unhappy. And even when your ex stomped all over those vows and cheated, got pregnant with another man’s kids, the ones you’d been trying to have, you forgave her, stayed civil, and gave her practically everything you owned. Now go ahead and tell me you’re not good enough.”

  The thin line of her lips and the weight of her defiant stare kept any arguments to the contrary from falling from his lips. Dismayed, he gazed into his dark, lifeless, boring coffee and thought if he were less like that coffee and more like a caramel latte with chocolate and whipped cream, he’d have Tim.

  “I wish I was as confident as you describe.” And half as pragmatic.

  Betsy banged her fist against the table and the cups jumped. “If I ever get my hands on Tim, I’m going to strangle him.”

  “It’s not his fault,” Gabe said halfheartedly, unable to meet Betsy’s eyes.

  While Gabe truly believed the whole excruciating event hadn’t solely been Tim’s fault, the callous conduct of the man he’d loved since he was a teenager had sliced deep into his heart. As if the pain were physical, Gabe reached up and rubbed his palm over the ache that had settled beneath his sternum.

  The silence reigned long enough that Gabe looked up. Man, Betsy hadn’t looked at him with such vehemence since she was a teenager and he’d drilled her dates when they came to pick her up. Some ran and never returned. He shifted in his chair. The waves of anger radiating from Betsy threatened to knock him over.

  “Car.”

  “Huh?” Gabe had lost the course of the conversation.

  “I’m going to run over him with my car, back over him, and do it again.”

  Gabe snorted with amusement. “Careful, Bets. Your horns are showing.”

  How he wished he could be like her—strong, independent, self-confident, assertive. Able to be alone, without a man, and not care. The woman was a retired Army sergeant and now a federal probation officer who could kick ass and manage to cow the most hardened men and women.

  Betsy reached across the table and laid her hand on Gabe’s clenched fist. Her touch settled him. Internally, chaos reigned and his mind rarely rested, overwhelmed with the pain and sorrow and upheaval Tim had left. If Betsy really knew what a mess Gabe had been, she’d definitely shoot Tim with her required sidearm. The sleepless nights, lying in bed until the wee hours of the morning, the inability to focus on even mind-numbing tasks like TV or reading. The black cloud had settled over him like a second skin. Oh, and don’t forget the crying—fucking crying like a heartbroken teenage girl. He hadn’t even cried when his grandfather died. Luckily, his well of tears had dried up. One more morning facing his bloodshot, swollen eyes in the mirror and Gabe might have begged Betsy to put him out of his misery.

  Betsy sipped her coffee filled with cream and sugar. “What about Patrick? Whatever happened with him?”

  Another failure. Gabe had met Patrick on an online dating site while weeding out those only looking for hookups. Gabe wasn’t built that way, no matter how desperate he was to get physical with another man.

  When he didn’t answer, Betsy said, “I mean, when you talked about him, you sounded happy. I know that his being in South Carolina was a bit of a barrier, but you seemed to have a lot in common.”

  “Except for the attraction.” No matter how much they had in common, there had been no spark. No rush of excited sexual energy or frenzied need to get closer to the other person you couldn’t get close enough to. “I just wasn’t physically attracted to him.”

  Betsy chewed on her lip. “Maybe the attraction would have come in time. Sometimes people become friends first, then fall in love.”

  He knew she was right, but at the time he’d truly been waiting for that one person who rocked his world. “I know, and I screwed up, but what’s new. He moved on and met a great guy, and they’re living together. So you see I wasn’t the one for him.”

  “Okay, I give.” Betsy stood and picked her purse up from the floor. “Listen, I have to get going, but remember, Gabe, I’m not the evil one here. That man strung you along and played you. He’s had how many relationships in how many years? Most people have a few bad relationships, but the man hasn’t been able to keep anyone. There’s a reason for that.” With her point made, she kissed his cheek and left.

  Tim said he wasn’t happy with anyone else because he’d never gotten over me.

  And Gabe had bought that hook, line, and sinker, because he’d never gotten over Tim. His first love. His only love. Gabe had eventually come to love his wife, but as a friend. But Tim Nolan? Gabe had loved Tim, real, sappy, gooey heart love, since he was fifteen. The moment Tim with his blond hair, ocean blue eyes, and golden skin had sauntered onto that Lake Champlain beach, Gabe’s confusion and doubts about his sexual orientation had been allayed. Definitely one of those aha (or maybe oh shit) moments.

  Gabe had quickly become friends with the charismatic, gregarious, and touchy-feely Tim. His overuse of those guy-approved touches like back slaps and the arm-over-the-shoulder hug that lingered too long had been maddening. Gabe was sure fate had been trying to drive him insane with the number of hard-ons Tim had inspired. For nearly a year, Gabe had jerked off under the covers, in the bathroom, even in the darkened woods on their camping trips. All the while, thoughts of touching Tim, kissing Tim, ran through his mind. The torture finally ended when in one heart-stopping moment, Tim kissed him. Because it was 1989, their boyfriend status had been secret until they’d graduated. That’s when everything had fallen apart.

  Gabe’s phone rang, pulling him from the past. He ignored the annoying noise, which thankfully stopped. When the ringing started again, he grabbed the cell.

  His ex. “Hi, Karen.”

  The sobbing wasn’t anything new but still squeezed his chest painfully.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” He stood and dumped his black coffee into the sink and set the cup down. Fuck black coffee.

  “G-Gabe. I don’t… I don’t know what to do….”

  Gabe picked up his keys on the counter and headed to the front door.

  “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”

  He sighed as he pulled on his jacket and locked the door behind him. He could be gone for hours
.

  Chapter 2

  STILL TRYING to shake off the old memories of Tim, Gabe sipped at his gas station coffee flavored with hazelnut creamer and real sugar. Saturday night generally was a night where his loneliness threatened to engulf him whole. This was a distraction. On his way to Karen’s, he’d had an epiphany. If he had to be alone, then the only person his body had to please was himself. A few extra pounds and crow’s-feet wouldn’t do him any harm.

  He pulled up outside of the large Queen Anne-style house in town he’d shared with Karen for eighteen years. That house was now occupied by her husband, Randy (the furnace guy), and their adorable twins, Mikey and Maddy. Children had been one of two things Gabe had been unable to give his ex-wife.

  They’d been unable to conceive, a mystery to the doctors they’d seen. Dozens of tests and no reasons were found as to why Karen’s eggs wouldn’t accept his sperm. Little buggers just couldn’t get in. Gabe figured those eggs had known “gay” sperm when they’d seen it. This was his inside joke. Of course, when he’d shared that with his one gay friend, Marty, the look of horror had been priceless. The lecture about gay stereotyping and gay rights not so much. Gabe couldn’t even do gay right.

  Despite trying everything short of in vitro, there were no babies for them. By that point, their marriage had disintegrated beyond repair. A child wasn’t going to fix their eroding relationship. There came a time in most people’s lives when living without someone to love and who loved you back wasn’t acceptable anymore.

  The second thing Gabe had been unable to give to Karen was his heart. That had belonged (probably still did) to someone who didn’t want it, had stomped the life out of it and left it a hollow echo of its former self. Worse yet, Tim had taken every ounce of hope Gabe had hidden with him all those years in that closet. Now Gabe wondered how he was supposed to retrieve that missing hope. Maybe the point was to get that hope back. Maybe the point was to let go of a dream he’d clutched tight for over twenty-five years. Letting go was like stepping off a cliff when you didn’t know how far down the ground was—an utterly terrifying drop that brought your stomach into your throat and tried to choke the life out of you.