Page 56 of For the Rest of Forever

“Convince me of what, darling?”

“That you shouldn’t skip Jack Mountain,” Allen said, and some deep shame tugged at his gut. It was actually physically painful. He shuddered and gulped in a lungful of air. “I didn’t—Idon’t—want you to miss out on it because of me, even though—even though you already told me...”

“Oh, Allen,” Greg breathed, and Allen felt him shake his head. “Darling, I...”

Greg trailed off, and Allen nodded into him. “I remember everything you told me, and everything you said. But I was feeling so much better last night and this morning, and then when you asked if I wanted to go out, I heard it in your voice, and—”

“That was my mistake,” Greg interrupted. “I shouldn’t have suggested anything. And I would have been perfectly happy staying at the cabin all day. Earlier this morning, in fact, I—I had been thinking how it was so wonderful.” Greg’s voice cracked on the last word, and Allen pulled back just a little and tilted his head to look up at his husband. Greg had his eyes screwed shut, and a tear fell silently down his cheek.

God, this was all so messed up. Allen was so messed up.

Broken.

Unlovable.

A burden.

Greg’s eyes opened as though he could hear Allen’s thoughts, and he began to shake his head lightly as he bit his lower lip. “This morning, Allen, I was so happy. I wish you could know what I was feeling.” A small smile inched across Greg’s face, and he reached up to cup Allen’s cheek. “I told you already that I’m not going to Jack Mountain. And I had already decided something else too, and I needed to tell you, to talk about it. But you have to understand something first, and you have to hear me and believe me, my love.”

There was a weak pulse of some unpleasant sensation in Allen’s stomach, but when Greg bent down to kiss Allen’s cheek and then whispered a soft “I love you” into Allen’s ear, the sensation faded.

“I-I’m listening,” Allen stuttered.

Greg didn’t move except to pull Allen a little tighter up against him. “It’s long overdue of me, I think,” Greg started, his voice gentle but filled with something so deep Allen’s chest almost achedjust hearing it. Greg kissed Allen’s cheek again, then dropped his hand back down to cover Allen’s. “I’m going to cut back. On work. On hiking. On those solo traveling trips. I don’t want all that anymore. And it’s because I want to be with you more.”

There was a short pause, and Allen realized he’d been holding his breath. He inhaled sharply as Greg continued.

“I told you already that I wasn’t going to Jack Mountain, and I—god, Allen, I love you so much for wanting me to be happy. I love you for wanting that for me. But I realized in the last few days that I really actually don’t evenwantto go.”

Allen swallowed hard. “You . . . don’t?”

“No. No, I don’t want to go because you couldn’t be there with me,” Greg said. “And—and what I want—what I wantmore than anything else—is to just bewith you. To be wherever you are, so I can take care of you, so I can love you, so I can be present with you. I want to cook you breakfast and cuddle in bed. I want to walk you to work. I want to go hiking, yes—but when you’re healthy and feeling good so we can do it together. I don’twantto be away from you anymore.”

Greg blew out a short breath and slid his hand up Allen’s arm until he was cupping Allen’s cheek again. Allen tried to duck his chin and look away, so overwhelmed with emotion, but Greg shook his head slightly.

“Allen, darling, please look at me. Please, please hear me. Hear this.”

So he did. With tears rolling down his cheeks and his lower lip trembling, Allen forced himself to hold Greg’s gaze. And he saw regret and worry in his husband’s eyes. But there was also love and a strong, powerful resolve.

“Allen, you are the single most important thing in my life, and I will be happy just knowing that you’re happy. I will be happy just being with you. Iwillbe happy, Allen. Iamhappy. What wehave together is so, so special, and I love it, and I love you. I want this—us—and that’s all. That’s enough. You’re enough for me, Allen. You always have been, and you always will be.”

Allen closed his eyes as a wave of some huge relief crashed over him, pulling a sob from somewhere deep in his chest. God. He didn’t even know how it happened, but Greg’s lips were suddenly on his, caressing them softly with a quiet reassurance. When they parted, he sighed deeply and slowly and let his tired body lean up against Greg, exhaustion mixing with relief mixing with love.

And for the first time since breakfast, his mind was also quiet, and he could think without every thought being drenched in the intrusive, overbearing, negative self-talk. He opened his eyes and turned his head just enough to look out toward the water.

It was beautiful here. It would have been so peaceful. A peaceful, short walk along the coastline. And actually, in that moment right then, it was peaceful.

He reached up and wiped the tears from his cheeks, then rested his head against Greg’s chest again. When he spoke, his words were quiet and careful, since he needed to finish explaining what he hadn’t earlier.

“It means more than you know to hear you say all of that. Because... because what I think made me panic, or whatever that was just now, um, was that I was sort of gearing up to try to convince you to go on that trip, and—and I-I realized that I was terrified of you actually leaving.” He paused to take a breath and turned slightly to bury his head against Greg’s chest. “I’ve been trying to convince myself that I’m okay and that I’ll be fine, but every time I try tomakemyself be okay and fine when I’m really not, something happens. Like—like when I pushed myself to go to work because Christopher and Owen would be there, and that drove me to have thoughts of—of—that I wished I weren’t alive anymore. And then we had that fight, and I hated thatso much. And then I fainted. And now—and now—as we were walking here, and I was trying to figure out what to say, and I realized, no, you—”

He stopped and closed his eyes and shook his head to reset himself, and Greg’s arm tightened around him reassuringly, lovingly. He blinked back more tears. “And... I realized that you couldn’t go,” he continued, “because I still need you here, especially right now, just as—just as you’ve been saying. But that thought—that I would be keeping you from doing something you really wanted or, um, somethingI thoughtyou really wanted—the thought that I’d be making you miss out, it... started to—to amplify all those other voices in my head.”

“. . . Those ones I already know about?”

“Yeah. Those ones from when I was a kid... Those ones telling me...” He trailed off, not wanting to say the words now. Not wanting to repeat them or give them any space in this conversation. They’d already done enough harm.

Greg must have agreed with him, because Allen felt another kiss press against the top of his head, and then Greg whispered quietly, “I love you, Allen.”

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