Page 57 of Unloved

I feel the loss differently on different days, but I move closer and closer to the acceptance stage every day. And it isn’t because I’m resilient, or strong, or adaptable.

It’s because of every single person who rallied around me after the fact. It’s remembering all those shitty foster homes, remembering the neglect, the physical abuse, and knowing that if I lost my hearing then, without a doubt, I would not be here today.

I find myself putting one foot in front of the other for the eight-year-old boy who found hope when he was reunited with his brother, or because of him, I’m not too sure. But I know I didn’t endure those years of hell just to throw the towel in now.

My phone vibrates on my lap and I see a message from Rhys.

Rhys: How are you feeling?

I shift in my seat and turn to face him in the back seat of Samuel’s car. My gaze bounces between the two of them. “I’m fine. It’s a meetup for deaf people, not a firing squad. You’re both acting more like parents than boyfriends.”

The last word slips out, and I can tell from the way Samuel glances between me and the rearview mirror, the cab of the car is not just quiet because I can’t hear.

Samuel reaches for his cell and presses the talk-to-text feature. My eyes almost don’t even want to move to the screen, scared of what he might say.

After I see his lips stop moving, I look at Rhys to see if his reaction gives anything away, but he’s just smiling stupidly, and that only makes me more curious.

Turning, I read the screen.

The day of your accident, I told all the sporting staff I was your boyfriend so they would let me leave the field.

His revelation leaves it wide open for me to ask the one thing that’s been plaguing me since the night he kissed me. I bite the bullet and decide to ask it in front of Rhys, because if I don’t ask it now, I’ll chicken out.

And we’re at the point where I don’t think any of us has anything to hide from each other. If we did, I’ve been reading all of this wrong.

I swallow past the lump in my throat and go in for the kill. “Is the accident the only reason you changed your mind, or was it that you were never attracted to men before that freaked you out in the first place?”

I keep my eyes on him this time, watching the way his throat bobs as he swallows. His right hand reaches for me, and I let him twine his fingers with mine. I sneak a peek at Rhys, whose eyes dart between the two of us with nothing but concern and empathy.

Samuel’s mouth opens and closes a few times before he finally talks into his phone. I’m entranced by the way his mouth moves, the frown lines in between his brows, and the way he runs his hand over his head as he contemplates which words to use that will best explain what he has to say.

He squeezes my hand and I realize he’s waiting for me to read his answer. I hold on to him tightly, offering reassurance I don’t think he needs but want to give him anyway.

Whatever is on that screen doesn’t change a single thing in the here and now, but getting an opportunity to have insight into his thoughts is something I’ll never shy away from.

I glance over to the screen and take in his words, the way I can still hear his voice as he says each and every one.

These feelings I have for you, have always been there. Before I even considered the possibility of being bisexual, there was you. It has never felt wrong.Youhave never felt wrong.

But I was scared. Iamscared. I’m always scared that I’m going to lose someone I care about. After my dad died, there isn’t a single day where I don’t live in fear of the next time something or somebody important to me is taken away from me.

Tears fill my eyes and the screen blurs, the rest of the message impossible to see. I wipe my eyes as I think of how scared and confused a younger Samuel would’ve been. His dad, there one day and gone the next.

As far as the accident goes, it was an epiphany of sorts. I realized I’ve been holding myself back because I’m so scared to lose someone important to me, but at least when my dad died I knew he loved me.

I bring his hand up to my mouth and kiss it as I raise my eyes to meet his. Unsure if, in not so many words, he just admitted to loving me, I don’t bring attention to it. Because I don’t need the words. Deep down I’ve always known, and that was before I knew what it was like to have him kiss me and touch me; before I knew what it was like to wake up and fall asleep next to him. Before my life was completely turned on its axis and he stuck around for all of it.

With our hands intertwined, and his blue eyes only focusing on mine, he tilts his head and claims my mouth.

This isn’t like our first kiss.

This is clarity, certainty, and confidence.

This isI’m yours and you are mine.

This isI’m sorry I took so longandnever again.

Slowly, we pull apart, shy smiles spreading across our faces.

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