The Wish Read Online Free Page B

return to Los Angeles the following week. The poor man hadn’t lasted long after Paul’s departure, and Alfred, Uncle Byron’s partner, had called and broken the sad news scant moments after Paul arrived home.
    The two older men had made a striking, if unusual couple, and regardless of the difference in age, status, and hereditary wealth, they’d created a lasting relationship strong enough to withstand numerous hardships, showing any detractors the error of their ways.
    Despite his sorrow at his uncle’s passing, Paul smiled, fondly recalling the two men who were like fathers to him, filling the void created when his own father died in a senseless mugging when Paul was a boy. The example they’d set would be hard to follow. Still, he hoped someday he, too, would have a loving, enduring relationship like theirs. He promised himself, and his uncle, not to settle for anything less.
    Those generous-to-a-fault men would have spoiled him if he’d let them, but all Paul wanted was their time and their love. He neither needed nor wanted their money. He’d financed his education with money from his father’s life insurance policy, and during college and after graduation he’d worked hard to save for the down payment on his store, once more refusing to accept handouts from the wealthy couple when they’d offered. Instead, he’d purchased an older building in need of repairs and lovingly refurbished the relic with his own hands—his proudest achievement.
    He’d never be rich and didn’t want to be. Even without the uncles’ help, he lived comfortably, managing to tuck away a little for a rainy day. Unlike that fool Alex Martin, he thought bitterly. The worthless asshole had never done an honest day’s work in his life and greedily accepted anything and everything offered, acting entitled to the money and never acknowledging Alfred and Byron’s generosity for the gift it was. The ungrateful bastard repaid the kindness by never setting foot in his uncle’s house, except to ask for a new car or a new condo, or some equally expensive status symbol. Why, Alfred’s nephew never once, to Paul’s knowledge, even called to ask about Byron’s health in the months the poor man had been sick. Small wonder that in twenty-six years, Paul hadn’t met the man, and he’d been content not to. It mystified him that both his uncle and Alfred truly adored the slacker, and the unconditional love extended beyond mere familial obligation. They turned a blind eye to Alex’s faults or excused them with a chuckled, “Oh, that’s Alex being Alex.”
    Paul stared out over the hazy skyline, huge, fluffy snowflakes starting to fall, making him pull the homemade quilt tighter around his slender frame. Yes, he’d make his way back to Los Angeles and support the man who meant the world to him, and woe be to the spoiled Alex Martin if the bastard chose to show his arrogant face!

3

     
     
    W HEN the announcement came for first class, Alex boarded the plane and was already seated and sipping a feeble excuse for a gin and tonic by the time the poor schlubs began migrating toward coach. With any luck, he’d catch a brief nap once airborne, something he desperately needed after his late night.
    Thinking back to the one-nighter he’d picked up at the club, he couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of disappointment. Even while insinuating himself between the obvious couple, he’d held out the hope that they’d merely laugh at his interruption and continue with each other or even confront him in righteous indignation for daring to intrude. It hadn’t happened. Instead, one had recognized Alex and taken the bait, prompting his lover to retaliate. No matter how many times he used the same tired old ploy, it always ended the same way. Was anyone in a committed relationship anymore?
    Closing his eyes, Alex contemplated the answer to his question. Uncle Alfred and Byron had had such a relationship. Alex seriously doubted anyone ever stood a chance