Page 16 of Embers Glow After the Fire

“Deny—I’m not fucking your waiter.” He laughs.

“You both could probably use it.” Dennis cracks.

“Shut up!” Matthew laughs.

“Ten years Matty—”

The energy in the cab drops.

“Today.” Matthew’s chest tightens. “He’s been gone ten years today, Den.” His lip wavers.

“I know, babe.” Dennis reaches over to pet Matthew’s forearm.

His eyes flood as Dennis’ hand flips the release valve.

“You okay?”

“I miss him every day.” His knuckles go white gripping the steering wheel.

“Me too.” Dennis pulls his hand back.

“I can’t believe it's been 10 years.” Matthew smears his wet cheeks with the heel of his palm. “Adam would have loved your cabin.” His smile wrings more tears. He recollects the image of Adam’s perfect smile. His trademark. It had been the first thing about Adam to draw Matthew in so many years ago. They met in Beauty School.

Matthew worked part-time waiting tables in the restaurant Dennis was just starting in his first head-chef position. Matthew and Dennis were dating at the time, just a casual fling really but then came Adam.

Matthew fell head-over-heels and initiated an amicable split with Dennis, who was already eyeing Robbie, the new busboy, anyway.

Adam was the love of his life. Pancreatic cancer came on rapidly. It was stage four when they found out.

He and Matthew were just six months into the opening of their shop together. Freshly married and business-partnered. Adam tripped over the floor mat under his styling chair and landed on his scissors.

Impaling his hand had been the thing to finally get him into the doctor, after putting it off for months. Excusing the growing pain in his abdomen as a pulled muscle from yoga, or just irritated bones from bad posture in the salon all day.

The puncture in his palm was nothing compared to the gut-stabbing news he was dying that came a week after the biopsy. He wished he had never brought up the topic of cramps to the doctor.

Adam and Matthew joked it was probably all the hair color fumes over the years. It was going to kill them both eventually. Trying to keep each other’s spirits up with humor. The joke became less funny when Adam’s signature shoulder-length golden locks fell to his feet in the shower, three weeks into chemo treatments.

Matthew held him for hours as he finally gave in to the reality of the situation and sobbed. Huddled on the tile floor. Matthew hid his tears behind closed doors and under running water during those weeks. He held strong while Adam let loose.

Three months later he was still holding him. After the chemo didn't work and all they could do was make the best of the remaining time. They emptied their savings account and went on a European tour for a month. Only heading back home when Adam couldn't bear his pain anymore. Medications no longer masked it.

He died in Matthew’s arms. A hollow version of the man he knew and loved to the very last breath.

The manager they hired nearly bankrupted the salon while they were making the best of Adam’s last months. Matthew couldn't be bothered to check in while the love of his life was dying.

He buried himself in work after he buried his husband. He spent years building back in Adam’s honor and then expanding into the bigger studio after the fire. Matthew Adams Salon is a go-to in Atlanta now. Two stories in a downtown loft, with 27 employees.

“The Donut Hole is just up around the bend.” Dennis waves a finger at the curve ahead. “Wait until you taste these eclairs!” Dennis pets his belly.

Chapter 7

The Hike

“Oh, booyysss.” Robbie provokes the entwined twinks cuddled on the pullout sofa in the daylight basement sitting room. “Wakey wakey.” He shakes a foot, unsure which of the pretzeled pair it belongs to.

Brendon snickers with arms crossed, rocking the sole of his sneaker.

“Get up—we’re going for a hike.” Robbie nudges the mattress with his knee.

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