Page 25 of For the Rest of Forever

“I didn’t mean to worry you, but—” With a rough exhale, Allen scrunched his eyes closed, and his hands pressed into Greg’s back as though needing him to be even closer, to hold him even tighter. “I-I’m scared, and I need you. But I also... I also need you to let me go to work today.”

“Why?” Greg tried to deliver the question without any sort of accusation to his tone, but he wasn’t sure if he succeeded. Allen tensed in his arms. “Please explain it to me,” he added quickly. “I need to understand.”

With a nod, Allen pulled away, and he didn’t look at his husband as he dropped his arms to his sides and then tilted his head slightly toward the living room. “Can we go sit?”

Greg agreed immediately, and he followed Allen over to the couch. Allen sat down first, lowering himself stiffly into the middle couch cushion. After Greg took his spot next to Allen, one leg hiked up under him so he could face his husband, Allen scooted all the way over until he was once again in his husband’s arms. Greg kissed the top of his head and then held him while Allen started talking—his words slow and punctuated by long pauses.

“I do know that what Christopher and Owen did is likely the reason things are this bad for me right now,” Allen began. He swallowed hard and rested his head against Greg’s chest, and Greg rubbed his hand up Allen’s forearm to his elbow. “I understand how you see that and know that, like I do, and you’re thinking... and you’re thinking,why the heck does Allen want to spend more time around them?And you see how that’s a bad idea, and I-I understand that too. Because maybe—maybe it is. ButI—”

Allen stopped talking abruptly as he started shaking again, and his hand moved to the middle of Greg’s chest. Greg could feel Allen pressing into him as he had earlier, as though he needed to feel Greg’s closeness. He breathed another kiss against Allen’s temple this time and stayed silent, waiting for Allen to continue.

“I know, Greg, I just know that I need to feel... wanted and needed. Whenever I’ve been most down, it’s been reminders of things like that—that I’m loved and that I’m a part of something, like this community and my job and our relationship. Those things, those reminders are what have always given me strength and helped me the most. And I—and so what I think I really need is your support now, Greg. And—”

“You have it, darling,” Greg cut in, and even though he tried to maintain an even tone, he heard the strain in his own voice. “You’ve always had my support, but—”

“But I don’t. Not really. Notthis time.” Allen didn’t move or pull away, and Greg was thankful. But his words were filled with an emotional distance, almost a numbness or detachment, and it made Greg’s worry spike even more. “You don’t want me going in today, and I understand that. But I need to, and I need—I really, really need for you to agree with me and support me. Greg, I need to be there. And yeah, maybe I’m—maybe I’m wrong. But I need—”

Allen stopped as he sucked in a sharp breath and then tensed, his whole body tightening in Greg’s embrace.

“I need—”

Again, he started and stopped, and his hand, which had been pressing strongly into Greg’s chest, fell away, down to Greg’s thigh. Then, Allen’s whole body began to shake with sobs, even as he buried his head into Greg’s chest more and began mumbling nonsense words. Something about being sorry, and something else about probably being wrong anyway. Something about how hefelt such a deep, utterly dark hopelessness sometimes, and how he was so sorry he needed all the constant reminders that he was loved. And then Greg heard him say how he knew he was loved, how he really did know, because Greg showed him all the time, but the negative thoughts and the despair could somehow sneak in, take over, snuff out all the good and all the love and replace it with an intense sadness. All the words were jumbled, stuttered, out of order. Wetness seeped through Greg’s shirt, and his own tears stung at the corners of his eyes, but he barely noticed. He just held his husband tightly and started reciting his own truths.

“Shh, my darling. You are loved and wanted and needed. And you are worthy of that love, you are enough, just as you are. I love you and need you, and I always have and always will. Please, please, Allen...”

He knew Allen still hadn’t really even given him a clear explanation about why he absolutely insisted on going to work. And he was sure Allen knew that too. But he’d heard enough of Allen’s argument to know one thing—his husband absolutelyneededhim to be okay with it.

And that felt heavy. Heavy and difficult, and Greg wasn’t entirely sure what to do. Because even though he really did want to be okay with it so he could support Allen—he really still... wasn’t.

And he couldn’t—wouldn’t—lie about that. That would serve no purpose and would only make things worse. He knew that from experience.

Greg took a deep breath and continued rubbing Allen’s back with long, slow, gentle strokes. When Allen’s body stopped shaking, and his shuddering sobs quieted into more regular breathing, Greg lowered his cheek to rest on the top of Allen’s head, and he closed his eyes. “Allen, I’m so sorry,” he started, because he didn’t know what else to say. “I’m so sorry I gave you reasonto doubt that I supported you. Idosupport you. I always will. I just... I just can’t...”

The short silence as Greg’s voice trailed off was thick and yet sharp at the same time. A ragged exhale from Allen broke the quiet after a moment, however, and Allen sat up and pulled away, wiping at his cheeks with one hand.

A strong tug in Greg’s chest sent him reaching for his husband again, but Allen shook his head once and stood, his eyes downcast and his hands balled up into fists at his sides.

“It’s okay,” Allen said, his voice unusually taut and hard. “But I need to go get ready now or I’ll be late.”

“Allen—”

“I’ll walk myself. And I’ll be home maybe around twelve thirty. Maybe we can still go to Seattle after.” His words were clear, but his tone was filled with pain and hurt and doubt.

Greg shook his head, starting to push himself up to stand. “No, I’ll walk with you still, I—”

“I can walk myself, Greg. I’m not a child,” Allen stated, and he turned away from Greg and, without looking back, headed toward the stairs.

Greg’s mouth hung partway open as he watched his husband stalk off, and he quickly closed it and sat back on the couch, his gaze still following Allen up the stairs. His heart ached in his chest, willing him to rush after Allen and apologize, but his legs wouldn’t respond, and instead, he just sat there, staring as Allen disappeared down the upstairs hallway.

A moment later, he heard the bedroom door slam, and then, all was silent.

He closed his eyes and let out the breath he’d been holding.

A fight. How long had it been? Years maybe? They just didn’t really fight. Little disagreements here and there, sure. All couples did that. But a real fight, with Allen getting angry and stalking off?He actually wasn’t sure if that had ever happened. Allen just didn’t get angry like that; he didn’t argue or raise his voice, didn’t yell, didn’t stomp off. In fact, Allen could barely stand when they’d disagree about simple things, like what to have for dinner. It just wasn’thim.

And he certainly didn’t slam doors.

A part of Greg still wanted to hop up and follow, apologize or... something. But another part of him felt too lost to do that. Lost and unsure. And Allen was right. He wasn’t a child, and he could make his own decisions. They didn’t always have to agree on everything, did they?

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