"Well, you know me, always getting in bar brawls," Nate replied.
"Did you hear about what happened? With the journalist who found me and wrote that big article? I couldn't believe how awful I looked when all the facts were there is black and white. If I had read that piece, I would have thought that I was a monster."
"I didn't read it, but Cici mentioned it. You know it's impossible to capture the whole truth of a situation in writing, and even if you could, it doesn't make for a good story. It's much easier to gloss over the details and cast people as heroes and villains."
"Yeah, I guess so… But I am the villain in this case. I left of lot of people out on a limb. I still owe people money, even though all the assets have been turned over. Ugh. I can't even think about it, I'm trying to fix things…And the new guy?" The sincerity in Joshua's voice threw Nate a little off center. Part of him wanted the chance to write Joshua off, to see him as a capital letter Bad Guy, be angry and cast himself as the victim. He knew that things would be less difficult if Joshua was a one-dimensional villain in a bad cartoon rather than what he was: a human being with good parts and bad parts and parts that were impossible to fit into such rigid terms.
"Abel."
"What kind of dumb name is Abel?"
"A really nice, strong name."
"Is it serious? Can I fight for you?" Joshua asked seriously, a flicker of hope warming his words with a gentle, passionate heat.
"Yes. It's serious—I knew after a couple of days, even though I tried my best to pull away from what he made me feel. It's different from you and me. It's less intense; it doesn't feel like work, it just feels like life." Nate couldn't help but smell the metallic scent on Joshua's skin. It smelled like a home that was miles and miles away. It made him ache for something that he knew didn't exist anymore. It was confusing that a fragrance that had once made him feel safe now drowned in loss.
"So no fighting on my part, I just have to bow down gracefully," Joshua said, defeated. Nate noticed single tear roll down Joshua's sharp cheekbone.
"That'll be a change for you. I don't think you've ever bowed down from anything in your life, let alone gracefully." Nate bumped his weight into Joshua playfully.
"Hey," Joshua said, smiling so that his salty tear puddled at the corner of his mouth.
They sat in silence for a long time, touching each other in a way that they never had. Feeling the history that they shared like it had an actual, physical presence. They felt the skin of each other's palms like they were trying to give each other strength and support.
"I wish that I had married you," Joshua said.
"Would it really have made a difference?" Nate asked, cautious to take the conversation any further. His heart was warming and aching at the same time. It remembered what it felt like to be close to Joshua's heart, like they were bound together by invisible strings. Nate wanted to step back in time, but knew that he couldn't; too much water had flowed under the bridge. He had changed too much to fit back into that box.
"Not in the long run, maybe. But it just makes me so sad that I never got to call you my husband." Joshua kissed the top of Nate's head and breathed in deeply. It made Nate feel like he was much younger.
"Yeah, it would have been nice to be your husband for a while."
"Yes, it would have." Joshua's words seemed to trail off, as if they were getting lost in the fantasy of Joshua and Nate in wedded bliss. The word 'husband' hung in the air, reverberating around, filled with power.
"Shall we go in? I think you should try and spend as much time with Bay as possible. Plus Cecily will be very mean to you, which I cannot wait to see." Nate pulled his weight upwards and got to his feet, brushing dust from his trousers.
Joshua and Nate walked into the hall together and walked straight to Bailey, who was looking forlorn in the middle of his jovial friends.
"I'm sorry I was horrible to you back there, buddy," Nate said, kneeling down so that he was on the same level as Bailey.
"It's okay, Dad. I think you must have been very shocked." Bailey shrugged.
"Okay, well, I'm going to get a drink, so you talk to Papa for a while. I'll see you in a bit." Nate kissed Bailey on the cheek.
Nate looked around the auditorium for Abel, but he had disappeared.
This Is Where I Love You
Nate ran out into the parking lot, but Abel's car was already gone. The dust of the ground was quickly turning into mud as torrents of rain came down thick and heavy. Nate searched the area with wild eyes, hoping that he would be able to see some sign of what had happened. Nate knew that something was wrong; he could feel it deep inside, like a knife wound, but he didn't know what to do. He closed his eyes and let his feet make the decision, willing his instincts to take the driver's seat. They moved him forwards into the rain and out of the school gate. He could barely feel the coolness of the rain as it battered him, soaking his clothes so that they stuck to his skin uncomfortably. He followed his internal map, walking through the lush forestry at the edge of the schoolyard, listening to the constant thud of the precipitation on the road and the leaves above him.
Nate was worried and angry. He couldn't believe that Abel would leave like that. It was so uncharacteristic. He was angry that he wasn't allowed to discuss what had happened with Joshua with the only person that he felt comfortable enough to be completely honest with. He felt let down. Nate's brain was working overtime, filled with accusations and questions, fighting itself to form coherent thoughts. He clenched and unclenched his fists to get rid of some energy. Heavy streams of water rushed, uninhibited, down the pathway, soaking Nate's feet. He looked up to see the little cabin that he now called home. No lights were on, but Abel's truck was outside. Nate inhaled and marched up to the house. He knocked on the door hard. There was no response, so he knocked harder and for a longer time.
"Abel, open this door now!" Nate demanded, fumbling with his keys.
The door opened slowly and Abel stood in the doorway, his face devastated, like he had just gotten some bad news. "You don't have to be here, Nate. You don't have to apologize." Abel sounded like he had just smoked thirty cigarettes; his voice was hoarse and raw. The words were barely audible.
"I know I don't have to apologize, you jerk. You are the one who has to," Nate said, blinking rain off his eyelashes.
"Whatever, I always knew that if Joshua came back..." Abel looked away, refusing to make any kind of eye contact. He looked like he wanted to disappear into the wood grain that he stared into.
"That if Joshua came back what?" Nate asked, confused.
"That you would go back. I always knew that I was the consolation prize, and I chose to go ahead with this thing. To dive into this thing that we shared. But I always knew." Abel's body looked weak, which was bizarre on somebody who was so physically commanding.
"You knew nothing! How dare you? How
dare
you?" Nate couldn't help but shout.
"How dare I what? I came out to check on you and you were holding his hand. You had your head on his shoulder like it was the final scene of a fucking Meg Ryan movie. But it's fine," Abel said, not sounding fine. He slammed his fist on the side of the front door frame, making it shake slightly.
"He is the father of my child. That's it. Do you honestly think so little of me that I would run off with Joshua the minute he decided to waltz back into my life?" Nate asked, shivering now, the warmth of his walk draining away.
"I just always knew that if he came back..." Abel sighed, his eyes still refusing to focus on Nate.
"Stop saying that. I don't know where you're getting this from; I don't think that I even know who you are. You told me that you wanted to build a life with me. You told me that you wanted to make a family, but the minute you had an out—you took it. Shit, I am so confused." Nate kicked the wall in frustration. The sound of the rain on the porch roof sounded sad and final, like the closing score to a sad film. Cold had knitted itself around his bones, making him shiver deeply.
"You're confused?" Abel asked, covering his face with his hands, rubbing his stubble awkwardly.
"You're right, I'm not confused. I knew this would happen all along. Joshua left me alone, and for a second there I thought that it might have been his fault. I heard you whisper my name at night and I thought that maybe, just maybe, he was wrong. And that I wasn't a mess. And that I was capable of making a life. And now you've left; you ran away as soon as the door was wide enough for you to get out of it." Nate sat on the wet wood on the porch floor, his body falling down so that he looked like a pile of wet rags. He looked out at the lake in front of the cabin and imagined himself crashing into its surface and disappearing like a single raindrop.
He imagined what it would feel like to be battered by the waves and be anonymous, just one drop in a mighty expanse. He was so engrossed in the idea of vanishing that he didn't hear Abel's gentle footsteps on the floor or feel his presence as he lowered himself to the ground.
"I thought that you were leaving. I saw you and I thought you were going to leave me," Abel said weakly, following Nate's eye-line so that he too was staring at the rippled surface of the lake.
"I don't understand why," Nate responded, resting his chin on his fist. He wanted desperately to move his weight a little and make contact with Abel; he wanted to reverse time to the beginning of Bailey's party and change everything. To warn Abel about what was going to happen.
"Because you were so hurt when I first met you. And I could just see in your eyes that you had lost so much, that you had lost something wonderful and precious. And I looked over the room and saw that man and I knew it was Joshua. I just
knew
it. Something flickered in your eyes. It was for less than half a second, but it was there. This look of relief—like some kind of nightmare was suddenly over. And I knew in that less-than-half-a-second you would have dropped everything and run away with him." Abel's words tangled and crashed into each other like the raindrops on the glassy surface of the lake. The sentences came out in fits and starts, losing coherency and becoming crystal clear, all at the same time.
"You're probably right. I probably was relieved. I was relieved for Bailey and for the sad person that I was when he left. I wanted him to have a happy ending. But I'm not him anymore. I don't feel broken or deserted. Or at least I didn't before you ran out." Nate felt his voice crack with emotion.
"It honestly didn't enter your brain that you might just have ran away with him?" Abel asked solemnly.
"No. It didn't. If I tell somebody that I love them, that I want them, that I want to go on my journey with them, then I mean it. I threw all my cards on the table with you."
"I'm sorry. I panicked. I love you," Abel murmured.
"I love you too. But I never thought that you would leave when I wanted to speak to you the most. I told you at the beginning that this wouldn't be easy. I told you that I couldn't give you a carefree life. I gave you the chance to walk away then. And I'm terrified now, because if you back out after something like Joshua coming to see his son on his birthday, then what will happen when something big happens?" Nate put his hand outside of the protection of the ceiling so that he could feel the cold rain on his hand.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm in this for the long run. I can promise you that I want to be with you forever. I had a blip. A stupid, pathetic, weak moment. But I'm here and I will be for as long as you will have me. I can promise you that." Abel sounded like he was fighting for his life.
"I don't know. I don't think that I can afford for somebody to have another blip. I have to think of security. Of providing Bailey with something stable." Nate pulled his weight up and walked out into the rain, needing to extend the distance between him and Abel.
Abel jumped up and followed. The rain ran down the back of his collar, soaking him. "I do know. I know myself, and I know you, and I know that we work together. That we are solid."
"But what if?" Nate asked, not willing to finish his sentence.
"What if nothing. There are no what ifs. I'm here. I fucked up. Not for the last time, I'm sure. But I will never walk out on you again. Never. Do. Not. Give. Up. On Me." Abel pulled Nate towards him, protecting him from the rain with his broad shoulders.
Nate buried his face into the wet flannel of Abel's shirt, letting his weight disappear under him as he leaned heavily against Abel's body. He looked up into Abel's eyes and saw sincerity, regret, and intense love. Nate wrapped his arms around Abel's neck and pulled himself upwards so that he was on his tiptoes and could kiss Abel's bottom lip gently.
Abel breathed out heavily as if he had been holding it for hours; the exhale felt warm and comforting against Nate's wet skin. Then they kissed more passionately as Abel picked up Nate's weight so that he hovered above the ground. They tangled themselves into each other like vines sprouting from rich soil, the rain feeding them so that they could find each other. Nate still had reservations, he was still scared, but there was something different about the way Abel kissed him now. Something sure and certain, something even more solid and real than before.
Nate pulled away from the kiss. "Never do that to me again. I mean it. If there is something wrong, then just tell me. Just let me in on what you are thinking and I will try and understand. Whatever it is."
"I know. I will," Abel said, catching his breath.
"Good. Now kiss me again." Nate smiled widely.
Abel kissed Nate gently. "Let me get you inside. You're soaking and freezing. I can put the fire on and we can have coffee and get back to Bailey's party."
*~*~*
Abel put the kettle on and the sound of rumbling water hummed throughout the air. Nate walked into the kitchen in fresh clothes and scrubbed his messy hair with a towel. Abel looked up and smiled irrepressibly. Nate walked over to Abel and rubbed his cheek into the back of his now dry shirt. He kissed the back of his neck at where his hair and skin met.