Page 14 of For the Rest of Forever

The forest called him, yes. The early mornings, watching the sunrise from a mountain peak, feeling as the light and warmth washed over his skin—those things also called him, and he yearned for them in a way that was deep, tugging at his soul.

But his love for Allen was deeper than all of that. This last week had reminded him of just how much he’d let himself becomedistracted by all those other things, when the only thing he really needed was his husband. The last week had also reminded him how muchhewas needed—how much Allen needed him to be there. Present. Attentive.

Allen stepped away from him but then glanced back over his shoulder and gifted Greg with a soft smile. “Let’s keep going,” he said, adding, “but I’ll be sure to let you know if I need to turn around.”

The tension in Greg’s shoulders eased, and he returned his husband’s smile. Beans jumped forward, whining, and Greg laughed.

“Alright, let’s go, and you can tell me more about that new display you were hoping to put up at the library. A showcase for local authors?”

Allen nodded, and together, they started off on the trail again. Allen spoke quietly, telling Greg all about his plans to host a special event for local authors to share their work, hopefully in collaboration with the local bookstore.

They made slower progress than they had the first half of the hike, but Greg let Allen set the pace. By the time they reached the peak, Allen had been quiet for several minutes. They weaved through the pines to Greg’s favorite ledge, and then Greg slipped his backpack off and pulled out a couple of lightweight foam pads for them to sit on.

After helping Allen settle, he sat down himself, scooting as close as he could and then wrapping his arm around his husband’s shoulders. Silently, they watched as sunlight started to inch its way up over Mount Si to the east, bringing a gentle warmth with it.

He’d seen this same view probably a hundred times now. Yet it never got old. Next to him, Allen seemed to relax with a long sigh, and Greg turned his head slightly and pressed a kiss into Allen’s hair.

“Do you remember the first time we came up here together?” Allen asked, his voice low.

Although the memory was over three decades old, Greg nodded. “Like it was yesterday,” he said softly. “I remember every minute.”

Allen’s head tilted more to rest against Greg’s, and there was a light laugh. “Even when I tripped over my own feet right at the start?”

“Especially that. I caught you, and it was...”

“What?” Allen’s voice was low now, nearly a whisper.

Greg closed his eyes, letting the memory replay in his head. They hadn’t even been dating at the time. In fact, it had been during a three-day hiatus Greg had taken while on the last stretch of his 2,600-mile-long hike of the Pacific Crest Trail, way back in the summer of 1990. He’d caught a ride from Snoqualmie, where an offshoot of the PCT had brought him into town. And then, he’d called up Allen, who had been surprised to hear from him after several months.

“I just still remember how it felt to hold you for the first time,” Greg said, letting out a quiet huff.

Allen laughed, louder this time, and shook his head. “It was for all of two seconds before I got my bearings again. I was so embarrassed. You... actually remember that?”

“Your hand landed right in the center of my chest, and I could smell your shampoo. It was... citrusy. And I didn’t want to let you go. That was the first time I’d ever had that feeling before.” Greg felt heat in his cheeks at the admission, even after all these years, and he ducked his head. “I was so ready to ask you out right then. I thought maybe I’d do it when we got up here, to the peak. But then there were too many people, and the timing didn’t feel quite right.”

Allen’s hand came to rest on Greg’s leg. “I don’t remember it being crowded.”

“It was terrible,” Greg said, shaking his head again. “I’m surprised you don’t remember. It was the last weekend before school started again, I think. Any weekend day is packed, but this was worse. And the weather was perfect too, which was nice but didn’t help.”

“Ahh, you’re right. That’s right. I had an 8 a.m. class the next day.”

“And this spot right here . . .”

“It was the only empty spot,” Allen recalled.

Greg nodded. “And that was perfect for me because it was always my favorite spot on this little peak, and I was just so happy to get to share it with you, even if I didn’t have the courage to ask you out then.”

He loved the memory; it was something he thought about every time they came up here.

“I remember being so surprised you wanted to spend your time off the PCT hiking more.” Allen chuckled lightly and squeezed Greg’s leg. “That’s you though. And...”

Greg frowned as he felt Allen tense up slightly. He turned his head to kiss Allen’s temple. “What is it, darling?”

“I never told you this, but I almost said no. When you finally did ask me out, I mean.” Allen twisted a bit to look up at him, and Greg was surprised to see amusement rather than anxiety in Allen’s eyes. “After that day—when you actually called me just like you’d said you would, after you’d hiked over twenty-four hundred miles on the PCT, and you came in from Snoqualmie to see me, and—” Allen stopped and shook his head with a small smile. “I was so worried that you wouldn’t be content with me because you... because I could tell you needed adventure. Butme? I wanted tobe a librarian. All my life, that’s what I’d wanted. I seemed so... boring in comparison.”

There was a pause, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable, and Greg didn’t even get the impression that Allen still believed his old self’s words. And that was good. That was progress.

He did remember feeling Allen’s reluctance at the very beginning, before he knew the depth of Allen’s struggles with his self-worth and self-esteem. But what he remembered most was the vision he’d had of the two of them together—he’d wanted to surround himself with Allen’s goodness and kindness, his empathy and heart, and he’d wanted to show Allen the same things in himself.

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