Page 98 of The Darkness Within

I’m a good soldier and leader.

I tried my hardest to keep my buddy alive.

I know that if I had tried to fight back, it would have been in vain.

I kept my promise to bring my buddy home to his mom.

I’m not responsible for the death of Victor Gutierrez.

I’m not responsible for the death of Victor Gutierrez.

I’m not responsible for the death of Victor Gutierrez.

I’m ashamed of myself for the way I handled my grief.

I forgive myself, and I promise to do better, be better.

I don’t know what I expected after I forgave myself. A meteor shower? A shooting star? A damn ticker tape parade? None of those things happen. But I feel a little lighter, like I checked a huge important box off my to-do list. What I said is the truth, and I can stop blaming myself for shit that had nothing to do with me. My feelings stemmed from guilt, but not truth. I know deep down in my heart, underneath the anger and the grief and the survivor’s guilt, that my best friend forgives me, and that’s good enough for me to forgive myself.

Sliding the key into the lock, I let myself inside and head straight for my bedroom, hoping to find my cat because fuck, I really miss him. But my room is empty. More than anything, I want to crawl into bed with Brewer, but I’m worried he doesn’t want me there.

How badly did I fuck things up between us?

Just the possibility of being rejected by him makes me feel panicked. I wouldn’t be able to survive that.

I creep downstairs on silent feet, avoiding all the soft spots in the floor that creak, and breathe a huge sigh of relief when I find his door unlocked.

Does that mean I’m welcome?

Pale moonlight filters in through the window facing the back of the house, illuminating my path to the bed. I can hear his soft snores, drawing me closer like a beacon in the darkness. Quietly, I strip down to my boxers and slip under the covers. The sheets feel cool in contrast with his warm body. Inch by inch, I scoot closer, as close as I can, until I’m snug against his back. A dark furry head pops up over his shoulder, and Valor’s bright green eyes glow like a neon sign welcoming me home. He purrs like a motorboat, and I scratch between his ears.

“Hi, little man, did you miss me?”

“Welcome home,” Brewer murmurs, his voice soft and warm.

I could cry, because it sounds so good, because he didn’t kick me out of bed, because he’s taking care of my cat in my absence, because he’s the answer to every problem I’ve ever had, and because he’s my future. The only future I dream of.

I slide my arm around his stomach, teasing my fingers through the soft hair on his belly. For the first time today, I take a deep breath, and I feel everything inside of me shift and release.

This man is my antidepressant. He is my anti-anxiety med. He is my mild sedative and my sleep aid. He is my Viagra.

Brewer is the only drug I need in my system, the only cure for what ails me. A healthy addiction.

I owe this man everything, beginning with an apology.

“Brewer,” I have to swallow twice before I can finish. “I’m so fucking sorry.” He slides his hand over mine. I crave the connection and comfort of his touch. Just that one small gesture is my absolution.

“It’s so hard for me to come to you with my shame, and my guilt and my anger. I should have humbled myself and asked you to stand by me, to lend me your strength, but I felt so inferior, so unworthy of you, and I felt like… I don’t know, I felt like, maybe if I pointed out those flaws, that you would see them, actually see them and not sweep them under the rug or look at me with rose-colored glasses because you love me. And that maybe, if you saw my flaws, if you saw all the ugly corrosive shit in my head and in my heart, the shit that taints my soul, you would see me differently, and that maybe—” I can’t, I can’t even say it without feeling sick. With a deep, shaky breath, I spit out the words that are so hard to admit. “That maybe you wouldn’t love me anymore. That you couldn’t because, if you saw me the way I see myself, how could you possibly love me?”

Jesus Christ with the fucking tears again!

Brewer gently places Valor to the side and turns in my arms, so that we’re chest-to-chest, face-to-face. He slides his hand along my jaw like a caress.

“The only thing I see when I look at you is my heart. You are the embodiment of my heart walking around outside of my body, and I trust you to keep it safe for me. When you screw up—when you say or do the wrong thing—I still trust that you’re going to make it right. I see your flaws, Nash. I see what’s in your head and in your soul. It’s not corrosive. It’s pain and grief and anger and guilt, it’s fear and insecurity and anxiety, it’s all the things that convince me you have the most beautiful heart and soul of any man I’ve ever known. That you can feel so many of those feelings, and keep going, keep living, keep loving, is a testament to how fucking strong you are, and resilient and brave. I love you, Nash. I love everything about you, even the stuff I don’t like too much. Your flaws make you who you are, just like your assets shape you into the man you are. It’s all part of the greater whole.” He brushes his lips over mine, softly, like a whisper of a kiss. “And I’m head over heels, irrevocably and forever in love with the greater whole.”

My lips part for his kiss, for his tongue, and he slips inside my mouth. The way his tongue moves against mine makes his declaration feel very convincing.

In the morning, he’s the first thing I see when I open my eyes, his arms still wrapped around me, our bodies so close together we’re practically squishing the kitten between us. With his eyes still closed, a playful grin teases his lips, and his warm hands cup my balls, sliding up my shaft as he purrs louder than Valor.

---