Page 10 of For the Rest of Forever

“No, what . . . ?” Greg trailed off, almost afraid to ask.

“It’s the only reason I’m... sort of okay,” Allen said, and he leaned his head against Greg’s shoulder for a moment before straightening up slightly. He lifted his eyes to Greg’s and gave his husband a gentle but strained smile. “Go look.”

Reluctantly, because he didn’t want to put any distance at all between them, Greg pushed back his chair and stood. Allen nodded weakly, his expression tired but hopeful, and Greg pursed his lips but turned and made his way out through the living room to the front door. He unlocked the deadbolt and slowly opened the door.

Just at the bottom of the front porch steps, the short walkway and small grassy lawn were blanketed with rainbow flags, handmade cards and notes, bouquets of colorful flowers, and other gifts. Dozens of small showings of support and love.

An older woman Greg recognized from several community events, though he wasn’t sure they’d ever really met, had just set down a beautiful arrangement of pink and yellow flowers, and she straightened up, smiled at him, and waved.

“You are both loved and appreciated and such an important part of this community. We just want to make sure you know that,” she said, her voice soft but also filled with optimism, and Greg felt a tug at his heart.

“Thank you,” he managed.

And as though she knew that he didn’t have words to express everything he was feeling, she just nodded and then leaned heavily on her cane as she turned and shuffled back down the walkway to her car, which was parked along the street at the edge of the lawn.

From at his side, Beans gave a low whine, and Greg bent down and stroked the dog’s head. “Wow, right, buddy?”

He slowly closed the door and then turned around. Allen was watching him from the kitchen, his eyes still tired, still pained, and now also glistening with tears.

“I didn’t expect that,” Allen said quietly, shaking his head. “I mean, I... I think I expected some sort of a media circus, especially...” When he trailed off, Greg pushed himself away from the door and started back to the kitchen.

“Especially, what, darling?”

“When I turned on my phone this morning and scrolled through all the texts and—and everything, and when I saw who had done this and... and I-I never thought...” Allen shook his head. “But I’m glad we don’t have reporters banging on the door or... or anything like that.”

Greg stopped behind his husband’s chair and set his hands on Allen’s shoulders, letting his thumbs massage gently into Allen’s stiff muscles. “I’d worried about that too,” he admitted quietly.

They were both silent for a few minutes, and Greg continued his massage, his hands working their way up Allen’s neck and then back down. He switched to longer strokes, then let his hands drift out to Allen’s upper arms and downward. When he reached Allen’s elbows, he leaned over and wrapped his husband into an embrace, brushing his lips against Allen’s cheek.

“Can I make you something to eat?” he asked, squeezing Allen gently before straightening back up again. “I have a delivery scheduled today, and some consultation with a client who wanted—ah, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to reschedule both,and—”

“Don’t do that,” Allen cut in, an edge to his voice. “Don’t reschedule or cancel or—n-not for me. I’ll probably be working all day anyway, and—and I don’t want to...”

Greg’s hands froze, now resting on Allen’s shoulders again. “Allen...”

The words were familiar but also jarring, a reminder that just three days ago, Allen’s mental state had been fragile enough already. He’d seemed to recover Saturday, after some good rest and relaxation, but Greg wasn’t surprised to hear his stuttering dismissal. Sad, but not surprised.

“I have to work anyway,” Allen argued again, though there was a hitch in his voice. “I have to... I mean, there’s a lot to do, and...”

Greg took the seat next to Allen again, and when he reached out to take Allen’s hands in his, he felt his husband trembling. He closed his eyes and started to speak, but Allen beat him to it.

“I can’t stay home. I won’t live in—in fear. Those boys, they... are misguided, and—and I’m going to work today. You—you should too.” Allen pulled his hands away, and Greg looked up as Allen stood, picked up his mug, and turned so his back was to Greg. The tension in his shoulders was clear, and when he spoke again, his voice was unsteady. “And p-please don’t argue with me, I’m not sure I could handle... that.”

“I—” Greg shook his head. “Allen, I . . .”

He knew. He knew how much Allen was hurting, despite his words and despite the small smile he’d managed earlier and despite his attempt to brush off the fact that he was scared. And Greg also knew how difficult Allen’s last sentence had been—standing up for his decision and admitting he’d struggle if Greg argued.

He pushed himself to his feet slowly and then moved up behind Allen and slipped his arms around Allen’s waist. Leaning down, he pressed a light kiss to Allen’s jaw, just below his ear, the short hairs of his beard tickling Greg’s chin. “I won’t argue,” he said softly,and he kissed his husband again. “But will you let me walk you there? And pick you up at the end of the day?”

Because Iamscared.Greg didn’t say the words, but he knew they were true. He remembered the phone call from Joe the day before. He’d been just about to start cooking dinner when the phone had rung. Joe had been calm and collected, but his words had had an edge to them, a note of something more than just concern. And when Joe had said, “Allen’s okay, but...” Greg’s heart had plummeted. Even though Joe had warned him about the car, seeing it had brought an unexpected wave of nausea—a combination of anger, fear, and pain.

Allen’s breath shuddered, but he nodded. “I’d appreciate that.”

He didn’t say anything more, and neither did Greg. Instead, they got started making breakfast—something mundane, simple, normal. Something they did nearly every day.

And that made things feel just a little bit better.

Chapter Six

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