* * * *
For some reason Izzy and Wyatt had never exchanged phone numbers. Maybe it was because they were on the same property all the time. It didn’t cross their minds to text each other, because they could walk to the other side of the road and just meet.
Except now they couldn’t, and Izzy was…he didn’t know. Everything felt muted. Like color had been washed out of the world, if he wanted to get poetic about it.
He didn’t know what Wyatt thought of all of this. He’d begged for Izzy to not go, but not going hadn’t been an option. Sure, they were both adults, but Justin was Izzy’s boss and Wyatt’s parent and, yeah. Wasn’t like he blamed Wyatt. It wasn’t like he even blamed Justin. Wyatt deserved better.
Every evening, Izzy looked at the list on their fridge door that told him what time he needed to be at work the next day. He went to work, came back to the trailer, barely ate because nothing tasted good, checked his schedule, and went to bed.