Page 25 of Joey

Joey held up a finger to his mouth and gestured for them to go back inside. Once the back door was locked behind them, he said, “Sorry, you can talk now. You never know whether they’re within hearing distance.”

“Fucking asshole was all I was going to say,” Ethan said, lowering the blind in his kitchen to hide them from anyone else who might have the same idea.

Joey sighed. “I’m sorry about that, but this is what I meant, Ethan. This is just the start. I could almost guarantee at least one person is waiting out in front of the house for one of us.”

Ethan settled into a chair and leaned his elbows on his knees, linking his fingers. “It was a shock, I’ll admit. But I stand by my words, Joey. If you want to stay, you’re more than welcome to.”

Joey crouched in front of him. “I want to, but I can’t.”

Ethan wanted to fall into his arms, but he refrained, tensing his muscles lest they ignore his brain and follow his heart. He nodded slowly. “Do you need any help with anything before you go?” Joey shook his head. “Where are you going?”

Joey stood and scrubbed his hands over his head. “I guess it’s time to face the music.”

“You’re going home.” It wasn’t a question. Ethan swallowed hard and stood. “I’ll let Meredith know you won’t be back.”

“Thank you. Please tell her I’m sorry for leaving so suddenly.”

“She’ll understand.” Ethan would, too. Eventually. Right now, though, everything hurt, and it had nothing to do with blue balls. He inhaled and smiled. “Take care driving home. It’s a long journey. Make sure you rest along the way.”

Joey faced him, and Ethan’s heart tried to claw its way out of his chest. How could he have fallen so hard and so fast? He didn’t want to imagine his days without Joey in them, even though it had only been a short time ago that his life had been empty. Was that what happened when people met the one they wanted to spend their life with, but they weren’t allowed? A vast emptiness spread out in front of them. Ethan wasn’t sure he wanted it. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a say in it.

Joey reached for him, but Ethan stepped back, a band crushing his chest. Joey gritted his teeth and nodded. “Thank you, Ethan. For everything. I will never forget you or your generosity.”

Ethan made himself smile. “Just pay it forward. That’s what I always say.”

Joey stared at him for a second longer and then headed for the front door. Ethan went with him. Before he opened it, Joey said, “Stay behind the door in case there are photographers. They won’t get you in the photos, then.”

Ethan did, and Joey gave him one last look, yanked the door open and stepped through to calls of his name. Joey dragged the door closed again, and he was gone.

Ethan wasn’t sure how long he stood staring at the door, but it was long enough that his knees started complaining. He sank onto the sofa, transferring his gaze to the floor instead. His mind was surprisingly blank, and he breathed. Well, he did until his inhales became choppy, and hot tears splashed down his cheeks. His eyes burned, his throat swelled up, and his nose ran. He grabbed a cushion to his chest and lay down on the sofa, curling himself up.

The cavern in his chest yawned wide and empty as he contemplated his future. He would never again find what he had with Joey.

“Why are there photographers outside?”

Though he hadn’t heard Christi come in, the voice didn’t even shock him, but he couldn’t answer. His throat ached with the need to scream, but he couldn’t.

“Ethan? What’s wrong?” Christi crouched in front of him, making him blink, more tears trickling over his lashes. “What happened?” She placed a hand on his shoulder, and it must’ve been the spark to the kindling because a sob tore through his scratchy throat.

He tightened his grip on the cushion and burrowed his face into the sofa to muffle his cries. The more he cried, the more he hurt, and the more he hurt, the more he cried. He could hear Christi mumbling, but not exactly what she said. His ears were focused on his pain.

He must’ve fallen asleep at some point because the ache in his throat woke him, and a soft light was on, and the curtains had been closed. Ethan pushed himself upright and sighed at the aches in his body. The sofa was not comfortable for sleeping, even at the best of times. And this definitely wasn’t the best of times. He rubbed his hands over his face, wiping away the dried tears and crusty sleep, and breathed deeply.

It was done. Joey was gone, and Ethan would continue as he had been. The pain would lessen, but he needed to give it time. It was a grieving process, after all.

“Ethan?” Christi whispered, and he glanced over to the door of the dining room.

“Sorry about that,” he croaked. He cleared his throat and winced.

“Why don’t we have a drink? See if we can get that throat of yours working again,” she said with a small smile.

Ethan stood, holding onto the arm of the sofa when his legs threatened not to hold him. Following Christi into the dining room, he settled into a chair, and she placed a mug in front of him. She sat across from him, cradling her mug, and smiled at him, careful though it was.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

Ethan stared at the small bubbles on top of his drink, watching as they popped and disappeared as if they’d never been. Just like Joey. Ethan swallowed hard. “Joey’s gone home.”

Christi raised her brown eyebrows—her having not dyed them when she’d dyed her hair blonde—and licked her lips. “Wasn’t that the plan?” she asked hesitantly.

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