Page 98 of When Ben Loved Jace
“No. Victor would like that nature has reclaimed it. I think that’s what he wanted for himself too.”
“You said he went missing. Is that what happened? He got lost?”
“In a way,” Jace says, his head bowed. “Victor wasn’t doing well. Bernie told me later that he started talking to himself a lot. We all do, but not like this. Victor was responding to voices that no one else could hear. He stopped showing up to work. And when he did, the shotgun behind the counter went missing too.”
“Jace…”
He doesn’t seem to hear me.
“I came up here as soon as I found out. Bernie and I went looking together. We started at this mother’s house. Victor didn’t answer the door. We weren’t sure he was in there, since the bank had foreclosed on it. We had to break in, and when we did…” Jace’s hands start to tremble, and they don’t quit, even when I take them. “The power had been shut off again. I couldn’t see much, but I still remember the smell. I followed it to the living room. The curtains were open. So were the windows. There was enough moonlight to see his pale legs on the floor, like he’d rolled off the couch and hadn’t woken up. His feet were bare and… and I remember thinking that they must be cold, because it was freezing in that house and I tried— I… I wanted to help him, but Bernie held me back. He wouldn’t let me see—said that I shouldn’t. And I know—” Jace sucks in a shuddering breath. “—I know he was right and was trying to protect me, but it haunts me anyway, because I never got to see his face again. I only wanted to… If I could have held him one last time—” He shakes his head and begins to sob.
I wrap my arms around him. Jace clings to me, as if his life depends on it. He keeps pulling on my body and my clothes, like I can’t possibly get close enough to shield him from the memories, but I try my best while crying, because I can’t stand for him to suffer like this. It hurts worse than any pain I’ve ever inflicted upon myself.
“I’m so sorry,” I murmur as he weeps.
“I wanted to die,” Jace croaks. “I wanted to follow him so we could be together.”
“I’m glad you didn’t! I love you!”
Jace’s arms tighten around me, and I think he tries to say it back, but his voice is a squeak. I hold him until he calms down.As much as anyone can after undergoing that level of trauma.
“I had no idea,” I say while still hugging him. “I’m so sorry.”
All this time, I assumed that they had simply drifted apart, that Victor was still out there somewhere, living his own life.
“Not many people know,” Jace says when releasing me to wipe at his face. “I never even told Adrien. But I need you to know… because I love you too.”
I understand finally, how much trust it must have taken to share this part of his story with me.
“There’s one thing I’ve never told anyone,” Jace says, his chest still heaving. He stares at me before seeming to reach a decision. “This is where I scattered his ashes. Victor is still here, when I need him. I just have to come to this place. It’s…” He struggles to find the right word.
“Sacred?” I suggest.
Jace swallows. Then he nods. “Yeah.”
He sits cross-legged on the ground, as if exhausted, and takes a deep breath, his hands splayed across the fallen leaves around him. I get down too, stretching out on my back so I can rest my head in his lap. He tells me more stories. Happy memories that sometimes cause tears of their own, and I feel honored. Tim coming back into my life almost drove us apart. Victor does the opposite. His memory brings us closer together.
Jace expresses a similar sentiment as we begin the walk back to his childhood home. “Bernie lost his son to suicide. Victor’s death wasn’t easy on him either. But sometimes, when you’ve gone through the same kind of pain, it makes it easier to heal each other, like that suffering cut a path from their heart straight through to yours.”
I take his hand. “Thank you for telling me,” I say with a tight throat.
His fingers intertwine with mine. “You’ve given me so much, Ben. Not just love, but hope as well.”
I snuggle close to him, the woods around us still echoing with youthful dreams from a time long past but not yet forgotten.
Interlude
Ben’s fingers pulled back from the keyboard, shaking slightly from the intensity of the memories. He’d known this wouldn’t be an easy book to write. Especially from here on out. Stories thrive on conflict, and there had been so many years of happiness where he would rather remain. He was tempted to lose himself in them completely—write page after page of pillow talk and cuddled confessions. He could fill an entire series with the memories he and Jace had made with families and friends. Or the trips they had taken together, stories that would only contain the occasional argument or misunderstanding.
The rest would simply be love.
Ben considered the framed photos on his desk. All the cheerful faces there. His present life was happy too. He didn’t want to neglect it for the past. So he would have to be selective. Difficult times were ahead, challenges that had almost broken him. He wasn’t looking forward to writing that part. Ben’s eyes darted down to the ring on his finger and decided to linger, just a little longer, in some of those carefree days. Smiling to himself, he poised his fingers above the keyboard once again and resumed his work.
Chapter Twenty-three
Something is wrong. This trip should be the pinnacle of our relationship. We’re in Paris. The city of love! And sure, it has been a wonderful vacation so far. But something is most definitely off.
Jace is weirdly distracted. Like when we took a ride down the Seine the other night, he kept looking around. Which granted, is exactly what most people do when on a boat, but instead of marveling at the Eiffel Tower or Notre Dame as we glided by, Jace kept examining our immediate surroundings. The rows of chairs, the deck, our fellow passengers… Almost as if he’d been worried about running into someone.
