Chicago ophthalmologist Patrick Holt wants to move to the suburbs, but his partner, marketing manager Clayton Teal, doesn’t. The two men, who share a condo together in the city, are having a hard time coming to an agreement about their future living arrangements. An argument ensues and Clay storms out of their home and heads to the gym to burn off steam.<br><br>While he’s running on the treadmill, he listens to a playlist Patrick recently made for him. The playlist contains nine songs and each one reminds Clay of times, both happy and sad, that he and Patrick shared over the years. Is this all that’s left of their relationships? Or can they work things out?

The Playlist

During that drive to meet her, while “Try Not to Breathe” was playing, I remember how Patrick took one hand from the steering wheel and touched my arm. “Hey,” he said.


I thought he was going to tell me not to fall asleep during brunch or something because I was surely drifting off in the car. “I’m not asleep.”


He laughed. “I love you. You know that, right?”


I think that was the first time Patrick had told me he loved me while we weren’t in the throes of passion when people said a lot of things they really didn’t mean.


“Yes,” I told him. “I love you, too, Dr. Holt.”


I usually called Patrick “Dr. Holt” only when I was angry with him or happy to be with him. He was an ophthalmologist and fully deserved to be called “doctor,” but it’s not a term I regularly used with him. That morning I did, however, because I was glad to be with him and I wanted him to know that I loved him, too. He flashed a smile and gave my arm a squeeze before moving his hand back to the steering wheel.


Chapter 2