Page 43 of For the Rest of Forever

“—wonderful,” Greg cut in, interrupting Allen’s rambling. “Wonderful and incredible and the best life, full of love and passion and happiness. Allen...” He took a shaky breath and buried hishead into Allen’s hair. “Allen, no, no, my love. You have made my life worth living. Being with you, being your husband—that’s the most important thing to me. I wouldn’t—”

Allen shook his head emphatically. “No. No, you have to go on that trip. It’s... your only chance. I’m—I’m—no. No.”

Tears burned his eyes, but Greg held them back as he kissed Allen’s hair. “Allen, I won’t leave you for that long. I can’t do it. I would always—always—rather stay with you, rather be with you.”

“Then I’ll come with you. It might take a little extra time, because I’m not as fit, but—”

“No, Allen. That won’t work. It’s too difficult a hike. Dangerous, even.”

“Then—then you have to go alone, and I’ll—I’ll be fine here. I’ve got Beans. And Joe’s just next door. And—and I’ve got my work at the—at the library, and...” Allen took a strangled breath as he trailed off, his head still buried in Greg’s chest. “You have to go. You have to.”

Greg was quiet as Allen stopped arguing and began mumbling “I’m sorry” over and over. Still shaking. And still cold.

“Why... do you really feel so strongly about this, Allen?” he asked after Allen seemed to calm just slightly. “Because I can’t—Iwon’tleave you right now. Not for the work trip, not for some hike or some photo. They are things I don’t need. I need you, though, Allen. And Iwantto be here with you. And if you think—”

“I’m horrible for you,” Allen cut in. “You deserve so much better. I’m ruining—I’m ruining everything. I’m so sorry. I’m not... I’m not worth... I don’t know why...”

Allen continued, his words becoming more and more muddled both in clarity and meaning, and Greg just held him as tightly as he could, rocking them slightly back and forth as his mind raced and his heart ached. It was as though every bad and terrible thing Allen had ever thought about himself needed to come out then, and theonly positive Greg could even try to see in that moment was that Allen was still clinging to him, even as he spiraled.

And god, what a spiral it was.

Greg pressed a kiss to Allen’s forehead as his words finally slowed down, but his stilted breathing and trembling didn’t fade. And Allen uttered just two more words before he began sobbing against Greg’s chest.

“I’m s-sorry.”

***

Greg pulled the SUVand trailer up along the curb outside a huge two-story home in a small, newish neighborhood in southwest Everett. Allen sat quietly in the passenger seat next to him, reading a book, or at least pretending to read a book.

“Here we are. I’ll just be a few minutes. I’m supposed to help them hang the prints too, but it shouldn’t be long. That okay, darling? And since we’re up here, we can grab lunch at that little café you like down by the waterfront when I’m done. How does that sound?”

Allen nodded slightly but otherwise didn’t answer. It was as it had been since that morning—since their “talk.” Since Allen had practically begged Greg to go on that trip for Paul. If he wasn’t starving—having skipped breakfast in favor of spending more time comforting Allen—he would just say they should head straight home. Allen was clearly not okay still. Maybe they should go back to see Dr. Schultz as soon as possible. Or maybe Allen just needed to sleep more, although he’d been doing an awful lot of that lately. Or maybe he just needed to be somewhere safe and quiet so his brain could steady itself and reset. Maybe they neededto continue right on up the coast to Anacortes, hop on the ferry, and go take their vacation now.

Greg didn’t know what was best.

All he knew was that he somehow needed to convince Allen that his life was worth more than any of Greg’s hobbies and passions, including his career and his camera.

He reached over and touched Allen’s cheek, and Allen closed his eyes with a short sigh.

“I won’t be long,” Greg said softly.

Then he grabbed his cell phone from its holder, shoved it into his pocket, and hopped out of the SUV. He jogged up to the front door and spoke briefly with Mitchell and his wife, Suzanne. They brought him inside and showed him where they wanted the prints hung on the walls. Then he got to work.

And he was mostly focused. And cordial and friendly. Mitchell and Suzanne were both chatty and open, and continued to rave about how wonderful the prints looked, how talented a photographer Greg was, how they couldn’t wait to buy another print at some point. It was distracting enough for a few minutes.

When he finished, he shook hands with both of them, thanked them again for their business and support, and then turned to head back down to where the SUV and trailer were parked. Allen was watching him from inside the vehicle still, and Greg gave him a small smile as he headed down the walkway. Allen sort of half-smiled back. But his eyes were tired and sad.

Allen’s words from that morning echoed in his head as Greg turned toward the trailer to make sure everything was secure and closed up.

“I don’t want to ruin that for you.”

“I’ve already messed everything up enough.”

“You deserve so much better.”

God,none of that was true. Allen hadn’t ruined anything. He hadn’t messed up anything. And Greg didn’t want or need anything more. He had all he’d ever wanted, all he’d ever needed in his husband. Why couldn’t Allen see that?

He knew the answer. He knew the depth and extent of Allen’s traumas, rooted in his childhood. The neglect and abuse. The berating. The insults. The list went on and on.

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