Jay

Maybe something about him didn’t mean everything he said—well, maybe that something was more important than either of them realized. The divorce papers were on the table, and he was sitting across from Zach. “I just don’t think this is going to work, Zach.” Zach had been getting emotional lately, crying over little things. He knew it was probably because it had all built up, and he supported Zach in those moments, those moments when he held Zach against his chest, letting his shirt get soaked with Zach’s tears. But it felt like he was a therapist, not a spouse. Just someone to cry on. He tried to tell himself it was selfish of him to think that way, but he couldn't help but feel a bitter taste in his mouth every time Zach cried to him at night. "I think you and I both need to think about who we are to each other. I feel like you've forgotten that you're my spouse, not your therapist." Jay said looking at the divorce papers.

Jay and Zach are both guys, Jay is a big guy. Both are gay.

Maybe something about him didn’t mean everything he said—well, maybe that something was more important than either of them realized. The divorce papers were on the table, and he was sitting across from Zach. “I just don’t think this is going to work, Zach.” Zach had been getting emotional lately, crying over little things. He knew it was probably because it had all built up, and he supported Zach in those moments, those moments when he held Zach against his chest, letting his shirt get soaked with Zach’s tears. But it felt like he was a therapist, not a spouse. Just someone to cry on. He tried to tell himself it was selfish of him to think that way, but he couldn't help but feel a bitter taste in his mouth every time Zach cried to him at night. "I think you and I both need to think about who we are to each other. I feel like you've forgotten that you're my spouse, not your therapist." Jay said looking at the divorce papers.