Page 201 of Piece Us Together

“Is that…?” Maison whispers.

“I was planning to just wait until you asked for them back,” Travis says in return. “Then Jake told me about that thing you and Nolan say. The kintsugi. Maybe it was presumptuous, but I thought maybe that’s what you had planned for them, eventually. I guess I thought I’d help you. The least I can do, right?”

“What’s it from?” Hunter asks quietly.

I run my finger along one of the lines of gold. “The first time Maison and I met was at that party. The second was when I broke this plate. It was the first day in the safehouse. I—I felt broken. He could see that. Could see it wasn’t really the plate I was so upset about. He told me about the kintsugi, like we told you. The art with the gold."

“Something beautiful,” Maison whispers. "Because it's broken."

“I—” I shake my head, tucking the plate back in its padded box and putting the lid on. I don’t want to drop it. Not ever. I hold the box to my chest as my first tear slips free. “Thank you. Travis, this—really, thank you.”

He wipes a hand down his face before pointing a finger at Hunter. “You take care of them, you hear me?”

I feel Hunter’s hand on my shoulder. Out of the corner of my eye, I see he has one on Maison’s too. “I plan to.”

Travis smiles before disappearing around the corner, looking for Carter.

Maison takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

Then he says, “I think now would be a good time to tell you guys I’m going to quit.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Maison

I can tell that Nolan and Hunter are struggling to believe that I’m going to quit. They’d peppered me with questions on the drive back to Hunter’s, asking why I changed my mind and when I plan to do it. They don’t like when I tell them I want to talk to Carter first. I don’t know how to explain to them why I need that. It’s not exactly the fact that I need his permission or approval first. Dr. Singh had helped me realize that not quitting isn’t me making things up to Carter, it’s me punishing myself. “You can make amends and rebuild a relationship without causing any harm to anyone, Maison. Don’t you want to stop hurting yourself? Don’t you think it’s time?”

I had thought of Hunter, hands on my face, telling me to hand the weight of the world over to him, telling me he’ll take it.“You must be so tired,”he’d said.“It’s time to rest now.”I want that so much it hurts to breathe if I think about it too long.

So, I’m going to do it either way. It’d just be a hell of a lot easier for me to forgive myself about it if Carter is okay with it.

Hunter and Nolan don’t like that answer very much. I can tell by the look they give each other that they think it still hinges on Carter’s approval. I can tell by the look they give each other that they don’t think Carter will give it.

I’ll just have to show them. Prove to them that I’m putting them first now. Putting the three of us first. It might be harder to believe some days than others, but I see it now, I see that I’ve earned safety and solace. I see that I’ve earned them. I see that I’ve earned a happy ending.

Still, it’s a conversation with Carter, and that alone has me struggling. It takes three days to be able to dial the number. What finally gets me to do it is overhearing Nolan asking Hunter in a shaky voice, “Do you think he’ll actually do it?” and Hunter, sounding unbelievably sad, saying, “God, I hope so, darling.”

The line rings a few times before Carter picks up. I try not to wonder if that’s because he hesitated before answering. It doesn’t matter.

“Maison. Hey.”

“Hey.”

There’s a beat of what’s possibly the most awkward silence in the history of the world. Then, “What’s up?”

I nearly laugh. Then I just say it, wanting to get the sting of rejection over with if that’s what happens. “There’s a holiday show tomorrow, a few towns over. They do it every year. There’re fireworks.” I close my eyes. “Would you want to come with me?”

“Just us?”

“Yeah.”

He hesitates, but not for long. “Okay.”

I feel like a teenager about to pick up his first date when I park outside of Carter and Travis’s and shoot him a text that I’m here. He darts out just seconds later, as if he hasn’t been dreading this. I try hard not to get my hopes up.

He’s bundled up in a blue coat that makes his eyes bright, with a matching hat and scarf in grays and whites. He has a twenty-dollar bill in his gloved hand. When I raise an eyebrow at it before putting the truck in drive, he rolls his eyes. “Trav gave it to me for snacks. He was having a daddy moment, apparently.”

“I can’t even begin to picture him as a daddy,” I admit, trying not to think about how weird it is to talk about kink with my little brother.

---