Page 59 of Silent Is The Heart

Pulling into my driveway, I sigh at the sight of the cottage. It’s been weeks since I slept here alone. I’m a big boy. I can sleep alone. I’ve done it countless times in the past two years, but my addiction to my boyfriend is strong.

The wind whips a chilly gust that blows my coat open as I unlock the door, giving me goosebumps. The house is warm but quiet and less inviting, knowing it won’t be filled with Easton’s smooth voice tonight. It’s definitely less empty since his surprise furnishing of it, but perhaps it’s my sentimentality that has me thinking the empty space between the TV consoleand the front windows would be perfect for a Christmas tree. I wonder if he ever got to experience picking out his own and chopping it down. I used to just put up a fancy artificial one in Seattle that was pre-lit, but when I was a kid, the entire family would go pick one out and my father would cut it down. If Easton thought it was cute watching meoohandahhover Christmas lights, I’m sure he’d love my excitement over picking out a tree together.

I told my parents last week that I’d met someone. I wonder if Easton could handle picking out trees together with them as a way to meet them for the first time? Mom is certainly anxious to meet him and looked like she’s finally given up on worrying about me.

Would meeting them make him more aware of not having his own family? I want to give him everything he doesn’t have, but I should try to silence some of my protective instincts. He has Wolf and his friends. They’re their own kind of family, in a way. Maybe I’m just excited at the thought of him meeting mine to show him even more how important he is to me.

I get my coat hung up and shoes kicked off, trying to decide how to spend my evening alone. Hot chocolate sounds like a good way to celebrate my Christmas elf spirit, as Easton would say. Heading into the kitchen, I pull aSwiss Misspacket out of the box and dump it in a coffee mug, pouring the milk over the top of the powder. While it microwaves, I lean against the counter and smile at the puzzle of a lakeside scene we put together the other day. It reminds me of the day he took me to his lake spot and the moment I hoped for a kiss before he swam away.

I got my kiss eventually, but it’s now a memory I’ll forever associate with how fragile love can be and how wary a heartcan be of it. I know our love is new, but it feels hard-earned, and I’m proud of that. It means nothing should be able to come between us since we’ve done the hard part already.

The microwave beeps, alerting me my treat is ready. Just as I reach to fetch it, a knock at the door startles me. I never get visitors other than George or Easton, and George certainly never visits past dinner time since he always likes to be home with his family.

Heading toward my front door, my heart does a little skip, wondering if Easton changed his mind. He usually just walks in, but I locked it since I was home for the night and wasn’t expecting him. So much for suffering the night without him. I’m not disappointed in the least that he chose me over cleaning up his plumbing mess.

“Well, hello. Oh…” My sexy greeting is cut off when I realize the man at the door is definitely not Easton.

He’s an inch or two taller, with wider shoulders under a black peacoat and a black stocking cap on his head that matches his midnight beard. His skin is tan and the brown eyes behind a pair of horn-rimmed glasses are the same chocolate brown as…

“Hello,” he says, the sound of his voice jarring the memories inside me loose. Taking a step closer, he pulls his glasses off and flashes a sheepish smile. “It’s me, babe. I promise. I’m real.”

The blast of cold air that hits me runs a chill down my spine as though someone walked over my grave. My heart wallops against my ribcage as my jaw flaps uselessly without a sound.

“Ja-Ja-Jason?”

“It’s good to see you,” he whispers, inching toward the threshold.

Am I dreaming? I have to be dreaming. Or I’m being haunted. He looks so real. Completely different with a beard and glasses and tanned, butreal!And he’s coming toward me. He can’t be real. I saw remains, remains with his wedding ring on his finger. I buried him. I picked out his casket. I…I…

Backing up, my legs feel like broken toothpicks, wobbling beneath me as he follows, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. Oh, God. Heisreal. There’s a mass, an entire living, breathing body in front of me,inmy house. He’s real, whoever or whatever he is. He’s not a ghost or a hallucination.

“Jason?” I squawk, unable to conjure any other sensible question.

“Yeah, babe. It’s me.”

That voice. I know that voice. I remember that voice.

My legs buckle. My knees slam onto the hardwood floor and I catch myself with my palms. The room is spinning. Maybe I’m spinning. I can’t seem to get enough air into my lungs. Have I lost my mind?

CHAPTER 29

Aaron

“It’s okay, babe. Come on,Aar. Breathe. I’m fine. I’m here. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Gasping, I’m afraid to open my eyes as the familiar voice repeats those words over and over. The body crouched down on the floor next to me, the heavy arm wrapped around my shoulders…itishim. He even smells like him.

Tears spill down my face. It feels like my heart is breaking all over again. It’s grateful that he didn’t experience the agony I imagined so many times that he did. It’s sorry for all the pain I went through grieving for him. But it’s also confused, so fucking confused.

Raising my head, I summon the courage to open my eyes to this apparition. My God, itishim. This is really happening.

“But you…you’re…you were… They said you…” I don’t even know what to say to convince him that he shouldn’t exist. “Isaw your car!It was…it was destroyed.”

“I know. I know,” he soothes, pulling me tighter to him and rocking me. It’s constricting. I already can barely breathe. This only makes me feel like I’m further suffocating. “I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”

Rising, he hooks his hand underneath my elbow. It’s Jason, or at least some part of my brain is registering that it’s Jason,but each touch feels like I’m being mauled by a stranger. I stare up at him stupidly, trembling like I’m looking at a ghost. For all intents and purposes, he should be.

“Come on. Get off the floor. Let’s go sit down and I’ll tell you everything.”

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