Chapter Text
Mabel Lee couldn’t believe how lucky she was. Meeting a man as kind as Michael Wheeler truly felt like a blessing. She rested her head in her hand and smiled brightly, “Michael, you really need to let me chip in this time.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said easily, “I’m the one who begged you to go out with me remember?” He had. Four separate times, actually. Mabel had gently turned him down the three first times before finally agreeing. And now a few months later, he’s become a part of her life and her kids’.
She still insisted, “you always pay. Let me treat you at least once.”
They’d met at Michael’s workplace, a video game store in downtown Indianapolis, while she was hunting for a birthday gift for her fifteen-year-old son. He’d noticed her immediately. Mabel had always had that effect on people. At first, she’d assumed it was just over-the-top customer service, but when her daughter’s birthday rolled around a few weeks later and she found herself back in the same store, she couldn’t ignore it anymore. The flirting was obvious. Awkward. Almost painful. Almost.
It didn’t feel entirely fair to call it pathetic when she’d agreed to date him in the end. In fact she was quite happy about it right now.Mabel couldn’t even remember exactly how or why she’d said yes, she might have just felt bad for the guy but she was glad she had given the nerdy employee a chance.
He was funny. Kind. Good with kids. As a single mother, those things mattered. She wanted a good male figure in her children’s lives, and Michael seemed to fit the role. Her daughter liked him well enough, her son sometimes tolerated him, which in comparison to what he thought of her ex boyfriends was an improvement in her eyes.
“Mabel, I love your perfume,” he said suddenly.
“Mabel Lee.” Her correction was sharp. She hated nicknames, especially when it came to her name.
“Right, sorry,” he stammered. “But you smell really nice. Like caramel and vanilla.” Mabel smiled to herself. She had bought the perfume specifically because Michael once made a passing statement that he liked those scents.
“So, Michael-”
“Mike.”
She blinked.
“I’ve told you like a million times, nobody calls me Michael.”
“But I like Michael,” she said. “That’s your name. Michael. I’m going to call you that.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “Alright. Michael it is.”
“Well, Michael, I’d really love to-”
His phone chimed. A short, oddly bright notification sound that made Michael freeze.
“Michael, your phone-”
“Yes, I got it,” Another sound cut him off, “it’s probably just my mom,” he said quickly.
“Then answer her?”
Instead, Michael grabbed his phone and started tapping at the screen with way too much urgency, nearly dropping it on the floor. “It’s nothing,” he said, avoiding eye contact. “Her fridge is probably leaking again.”
“Well, that’s-”
Before she could finish, Michael pulled out his wallet and dropped a few bills on the table. “I gotta go. Bye.” He leaned in, kissed the top of her head, muttered a quick apology and practically sprinted for the exit.
“What was that?” the waiter asked, finally bringing their food, his sharp eyebrows raised.
Mabel stared after Michael, confused. “What was what? He-”
The waiter made a sound, clearly holding back laughter. “Good luck,” he said, already heading toward the kitchen and then turned his head around, “with finishing all that food I mean.”
“What the hell…?” Mabel Lee muttered to herself. She was definitely leaving a bad review. Such horrid customer service. Making fun of her for getting stood up. But Mabel Lee knew Michael better than that and she trusted him completely.
She ate her meal and paid with the money Michael left before leaving. If he was going to disappear like that, at least he’d covered dinner.
The drive home was quiet. Peaceful. She thought about how much she liked Michael, how solid they were together. How good they would be together.
____________________________
Mike Wheeler was an absolute loser.
He couldn’t believe that had actually happened. In public. He was sure people had been staring. He’d felt it, sharp and immediate, and he could’ve sworn he heard someone laugh as he bolted for the exit.
He’d forgotten to turn his phone off. In front of Mabel. And he’d gotten a notification. From Grindr.
Jesus Christ.
She could’ve recognized it. Anyone could have . Maybe someone had. The thought made his stomach twist and head spin. But she didn't look suspicious. Confused, maybe. Disappointed that their date had been cut short. She’d actually bought the story about his mom. About the fridge.
Mike was probably just being over dramatic. There was no way someone would recognize the sound without also being on there. And they wouldn’t go on and snitch to his date.
He unlocked his phone with shaking hands as he walked down the sidewalk, heart still hammering. The screen lit up, and there it was.
Grindr.
Three new messages. One from a blank profile, one from a guy whose username was just a first name and a number, and one from someone who’d messaged him earlier that afternoon.
Still around?
I’m free now.
Mike swallowed. He glanced back once, just to make sure Mabel wasn’t somehow behind him, then focused on the screen again. This was familiar. Easier. No expectations, no explanations, no pretending.
He typed back quickly.
Yeah.
A pause.
Give me like 20
A response came almost immediately.
Great :)
Mike stopped walking. He slid the phone into his pocket and exhaled, long and shaky. He told himself it didn’t mean anything. He wasn’t gay.
So what if he slept with men sometimes? That didn’t count. It was just a distraction, a way to burn the feeling out of his system before it could settle anywhere dangerous. A way to pretend he hadn’t ruined anything that actually mattered.
He almost laughed out loud. He didn’t even believe himself. But it didn’t matter, being gay. Fucking men. He just wanted Will. He missed will.
With strangers, he didn’t have to remember how it felt to be known. He didn’t have to think about the way Will had looked at him back then, or how easily Mike had let him move on. It was easier to tell himself this was just habit, just impulse, just something he could stop whenever he wanted.
He slid into his car, cranked the heat, and stared at himself in the rearview mirror.
Sometimes he didn’t recognize the man looking back. Tonight, he stared for too long, long enough for the reflection to blur into something else. He didn’t see himself anymore. He saw his father. The same hollow eyes. The same slack, exhausted expression. Even the same crappy glasses.
He felt empty, like he was just going through the motions.
He reached forward and opened the glove compartment, rifling through it until his fingers closed around something cold and familiar.
His wedding ring.
He kept it there on purpose. Out of sight. Hidden from Mabel, because she’d have every right to be furious. But a random hookup wouldn’t care. They never did.
He slipped the ring onto his finger and stared at it for a moment, making sure it was there. Making sure he wouldn’t forget later.
Because eventually, he’d go back home.
Back to his wife.