Page 21 of For the Rest of Forever

“Allen, are you—”

“I’m okay. I’m fine. I’m just...” Allen trailed off as he shook his head. Then, without looking up, Allen scooted over, turned so he was facing Greg, and curled up into his spot, his head on Greg’s shoulder and one hand resting against Greg’s bare chest. There was a quiet sniffle, and Greg closed his eyes for a second. Then he reached up, touched Allen’s cheek, and kissed his forehead gently, lovingly.

“How about I just hold you for a little while?”

Allen seemed to hesitate for a second, and Greg could almost hear the battle in his husband’s mind, no doubt running through all the reasons why them lingering in bed—rather than getting straight up to get cleaned up, change the sheets, have dinner, get back to work or whatnot—would be a burden, disruptive, troublesome. Finally, though, Allen let out another short, shuddering breath andnodded into Greg’s chest. “Please.”

Greg kissed Allen’s forehead again. “Of course, my love,” he whispered, and he pulled the comforter up over them, settled down deeper into the bed, and held Allen to him tighter.

Chapter Ten

Allen

Sunlight peeked through theshutters as Allen blinked his eyes open Saturday morning. He should probably get up and start his day. But it was still too early, and he was still too exhausted. So he just closed his eyes again and hoped Greg wouldn’t feel that he’d shifted slightly in the bed.

He hadn’t really slept much at all the night before, even after a second shower and a wonderful, home-cooked dinner of pot roast and potatoes and quiet cuddling with Greg on the couch as they’d watched an old movie. When they’d finally crawled into bed well after eleven and Greg had wrapped him up in his arms and kissed him good night, Allen had felt good. Settled. Relaxed. It wasn’t until he’d remembered that he’d needed to set his alarm clock—for 7:00 a.m., since he was heading into work on what was normally his day off—that uncertainty had started to cloud his thoughts again.

And that uncertainty had kept him up nearly all night, lying stiffly in bed, trying desperately not to move so he didn’t wake his husband.

Today—Saturday—was the first day Christopher and Owen would be coming to the library to start working on their community service hours. Both boys had apparently wanted to get started right away, saying they needed to show their commitment to making things right and doing better. So, midafternoon yesterday, their parents had called the library and spoken with Annabeth, who had arranged everything. The boys would be in from nine to noon today, and although Annabeth had assured Allen it wasn’t necessary for him to come in on his day off, he’d insisted on being there at that same time.

He hadn’t even gotten a chance to tell Greg yet.

He’d planned to yesterday evening, but when he’d gotten home and gone out into the garage and seen Greg working, something had cracked inside him. He’dneededGreg like he hadn’t in quite some time.

They had what he considered a healthy, active sex life, and they usually made love at least once or twice a week, even now, with both of them well into their fifties. And it was always fulfilling. Renewing. Comforting. He loved the way Greg made him feel—whole and loved, even when he was struggling emotionally, as he had been all week long. And last night had been no different, no less wonderful.

But he wished the feeling had carried over, that the unease he had about the upcoming day hadn’t tarnished the intensity of the love and belonging he’d felt after he and Greg had made love and spent the entire, blissful evening together.

And he also wished he didn’t feel so, so bone-tired.

He took a long, deep breath and opened his eyes again, blinking several times as his vision adjusted to the brighteninglight of the bedroom. And before he could even react to seeing Beans sitting just at the edge of the bed, the pup’s muzzle resting on the comforter, Beans let out a low growl-whimper-bark and jumped up to put his paws on the bed.

Allen groaned, and behind him, Greg stirred, his arm tightening around Allen’s midsection.

“Ugh, Beans. Go back to bed,” Greg complained. But of course, that just made Beans bark again, louder and more insistently this time.

“I’ll let him out,” Allen said, but when he started to scoot away, Greg’s arm held him.

“Let me, darling,” Greg murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Allen’s back. When Beans barked again, Greg groaned and started to push himself up. “Yeah, yeah, shush, you little stinker. I’m getting up,” he grumbled.

Even though it was somewhat of a lighthearted grumble, Allen felt something shudder inside him. Some deep, dark pang of guilt and shame.Heshould be the one to do it.Heshould get up and go downstairs with the dog. After all, Greg was probably tired after having to take care of Allen all night last night and the whole last week, really.

Allen’s chest tightened, and his stomach clenched. Greg probably was really tired, not justfromtaking care of him, butoftaking care of him too. He’d been asking so much of his husband. And now, Greg was thinking he needed to be the one to take care of Beans as well?

Allen shook his head slightly. “No, I can... I mean, I’m already awake and—”

He stopped himself, screwing his eyes shut and sucking in a sharp breath. He shouldn’t argue; arguing was wrong and would only cause more strife and stress, and he’d already caused enough of that, hadn’t he?

God, he had. He’d caused so much trouble for Greg this whole week. It had been hard and trying, every day some new struggle, and it was all his fault. He was such a burden, and it was too much.Hewas too much, and he wasn’t really even sure why Greg put up with him.

Greg would be so much better off if he weren’t here.

If he just ended it all.

Ended himself.

Twisted images and thoughts bombarded him. Half-formed plans showing him how easy it would be. How easy it would be to do just that. To just—

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