Diego Paolo's trial ends in lifetime solitary sentence.
Bolsham Bank declares bankruptcy after losing mass suit.
Pandi felt the shift in Zay immediately after he revealed some of his past with Aimee. He had wanted to share things with Zay, and he knew that Zay wanted to be a good friend. Yet Pandi had seen that Zay, just like everyone else who found out, had a natural aversion to him simply because he was divorced. This was why he had never wanted to share that part of himself with anyone. This was why he had deflected Zay's questions and hoped beyond reason that Zay would forget about it or just give it up. That had been a stupid choice on his part. He should have known that Zay would ever so kindly weasel the information out of him. "Not a gossip, my ass," he muttered as he locked up the office.
"I really won't tell."
Pandi jumped at the sound of Zay's voice. In his agitation, he had forgotten that Zay always waited outside the office for him. With a hand pressed over his heart, he said, "You scared me. A little warning next time?"
Zay nodded. "Sorry. You've just seemed off ever since you told me about your ex-wife and then you were muttering about how you think I'll gossip about you. I'm just trying to set the record straight. I'm good at keeping secrets. If you don't want anyone I know to know, I'll keep my mouth shut. Even if you don't tell me what you want, I'm still not going to go around airing out someone else's dirty laundry. That's a shitty thing to do."
Pandi sighed. "Thanks, I appreciate that. It's just…still so new and I haven't quite adapted, and I really want to be able to tell the truth when I tell people I'm fine."
Zay ran his thumb under the purse strap hanging over his shoulder. He was so beautiful today in his mauve pants, black button-up, light purple eyeshadow, and the tiny line of eyeliner he had added to his ensemble. Did he know how gorgeous he was? Did he know that he could make Pandi's heart stop simply by existing?
Pandi cleared his throat, double checked the locked door, and started down to the parking lot. "It's complicated." How did he tell Zay that he was not straight despite having been married to a woman? "And not just because of her lies and unconcern. I don't think I ever loved her."
Zay looked sad when Pandi glanced at him. "That's an awful realization."
"Yeah." Pandi fiddled with his keys. He had advised a few of his clients through coming out so he knew some of the best ways to go about it, but why was it so goddamn terrifying? "I think it's because I wasn't ever attracted to her. I should've been. I mean, she's famous and objectively hot."
Zay raised a thin eyebrow. "Objectively, you say?" It sounded like he was starting to catch on.
Pandi nodded. "To everyone else but me. I mean, I can admit that she's pretty. I don't think she's ugly. But her pretty's not the kind of pretty I like."
Zay's smile looked almost like a smirk. "Is this going where I think it's going?" he asked in that silky, almost seductive voice he had used at the beginning of their interactions.
Pandi felt his face burn. "If you think I'm clumsily trying to come out, then yeah, it's going exactly where you think it is."
Zay did the most unexpected thing. He stopped and grabbed Pandi in a hug that was disproportionately strong for his size and secondary gender. "You're amazing."
Pandi stiffened at the words. "What?"
Zay huffed a quiet laugh. "You're amazing. It takes a lot of courage to do this, even to a friend."
"I needed you to know."
Zay held him tighter, encasing both of them in the lavender perfume he was wearing. "Well, now I know, and I'm telling you that you're brave for doing it. I'm not going to judge you for it."
"I know," Pandi replied. "I needed you to know I'm not straight…because I think I like you."
Now it was Zay who stiffened. "What?"
Pandi pulled back so he could look into Zay's gorgeous dark eyes as he said, "You're the kind of pretty I like." He felt like he should say more, but he was out of words.
Zay was so still that he could have passed for a wax-figure version of himself. After a moment, he carefully twisted away from Pandi's hands. "Can we put a pin in that conversation?"
Pandi felt his heart drop. He knew Zay was just being mature about this, but he still felt like a heartbroken teenager rejected by his crush. "Yeah, sure. Sorry to spring that on you."
Zay gave a small smile. "Don't be sorry. Believe me, I'm flattered that I was part of your sexual awakening. I just need time to step away and process. It's nothing against you, and it's not a no." He fished his keys out of his purse and twirled them around his finger. "I'll see you on Monday, and we can talk after work, okay?"
Pandi nodded, glad that Zay was proficient at being an adult about relationship conversations. "Sure. I hope you have a good weekend."
"You too."
They got into their separate cars, and that was the end of it. Pandi distracted himself by making complicated food for dinner and handwashing his pots and dishes afterward. Then he reorganized his bookshelf to fit the three new books he had bought a month ago. Then he did all of the laundry that had been sitting around since the divorce, including all the sheets from his bed and the twin guest bed. Only once everything was folded and the beds were remade did he collapse, exhausted but glad his exhaustion was keeping him from overthinking.
He got up the next morning at his usual time of 5 am, made breakfast, washed everything by hand again, and then cleaned the kitchen and dining room before heading out to meet his friend Bradley for the casual game of tennis they played every Saturday at 10 am. The moment he stepped into the club, Pandi could tell something was off.
The atmosphere was different. Usually, there was a polite buzz, but people were gathered right outside the doors to the courts, standing and talking excitedly amongst themselves.
Pandi opened one of the doors and tapped someone on the shoulder. "What's going on?"
The guy shrugged. "We're not allowed to use the first court cause there's some fancy pro player getting into shape for the US Open. His coach is kinda terrifying. She kicked us all off the court immediately and even punched someone who tried to get too close."
Pandi raised an eyebrow. "Dang. But why would she need to punch someone? We're all respectful here."
The guy shrugged again, this time with a small, knowing grin. "The player's an omega. First one in the sport to actually build a name for himself, I hear." He shook his head, giving a few of the other men around them a disgusted look. "But his accomplishments don't matter to most of them." His implication sat heavy in the air: they just see him as something that should stay waiting at home for someone like them to treat like dirt.
Pandi scowled. "Of course not." He pushed his way to the front of the crowd to try to get everyone to get back to their own business. And then he saw the player.
Lithe and graceful like a dancer. Full of a strength that seemed to come from nowhere every time his sparring partner hit the ball back to his side of the court. Shiny black hair pulled back into a thin braid. Tanned skin fully on display in a tank top and shorts.
Zay.