17. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

Greg

The heavy rain turned into light rain overnight, and by morning, the sky was cloudless once again. Greg was up just before sunrise, though he didn’t wake Allen, and he made himself a cup of coffee and sat out on the patio, watching as the sun inched its way up into the sky. Beans tootled around the yard, alternately sniffing things, rolling around in the wet grass, and then joining Greg up on the patio before heading off again.

Just after the sun had reached clearly up over the top of the mountains to the east, Greg heard the slider door open and then close behind him. He glanced back over his shoulder and gave his husband a soft smile. Allen’s smile in return was tight and uncertain, and Greg’s stomach immediately knotted up.

“What is it?” He set his coffee down and started to stand, but Allen shook his head and motioned that Greg should stay put.

“I, um...” Allen dropped his eyes to the ground, closed the rest of the distance between them with a few slow steps, and then settled into the seat next to Greg. “I was actually thinking of... calling off work today,” he said, his voice low and rough.

“Okay, okay.” Greg wrapped his arm around Allen’s shoulders and pulled Allen closer to him as he closed his eyes. “Are you feeling alright?”

Allen didn’t answer out loud, but he shook his head and then buried his face in Greg’s chest. The knots in Greg’s stomach tightened. He’d seen and felt the moment something had started bothering Allen last night when they’d crawled into bed together before dinner. In fact, he’d almost argued with Allen then because he’d known they shouldn’t put things off. They needed to talk more. Greg needed to know how Allen was feeling and what things were bothering him so he could best support him.

But he also knew it was really, really hard sometimes for Allen to do that, especially if the thing that was on Allen’s mind had any potential to upset Greg. Or if Allen perceived that there was potential to upset Greg.

So last night, he hadn’t pushed. Now, he was wondering if maybe that hadn’t been the right choice.

“It’s still early, but do you want me to call Annabeth for you?” he offered quietly, and when Allen didn’t answer again, Greg rested his cheek against the top of Allen’s head. “Did you have anything that you need to go in for today, or will she be able to handle things without you?”

Allen’s voice was shaky, but he responded this time. “We have the homeschool group, but Casey will be there around that time, and—and... I think Annabeth should be fine.”

“Okay,” Greg said. He kissed the top of Allen’s head, and then, without shifting them too much, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it, and hit a few buttons to bring up Annabeth’s phone number. The conversation was short, and Annabeth was just as understanding and kind as he expected .

After he hung up and slid his phone back into the pocket of his pajama pants, he heard quiet sniffles from Allen, and his heart ached again. Whatever was bothering him must really be hurting.

“I love you,” Greg whispered as he turned slightly so he could wrap both arms around his husband.

“I love you too. I’m sorry for being so... so... me.” Allen’s lower jaw trembled, and he shook his head and ducked his chin down.

Dammit. Greg’s heart clenched. The sadness and uncertainty radiated off Allen, again, and it hurt to see how much his kind, compassionate husband was struggling. Still. Again. Always.

Allen had reminded him the other day that he’d always struggled, that this wasn’t all new to him. He’d even reminded Greg that he would probably always struggle. They’d talked at length about that with Dr. Schultz too. But even though Greg knew this, it didn’t make things easier when he saw his husband not doing well.

Greg brought a hand up to cup Allen’s cheek and repeated the words he’d said so many times before. “I love you, and I love caring for you. And I love having you here with me. I only worry because I love you.” He pressed a gentle kiss to Allen’s forehead. “And I also worry because I know that you wouldn’t be calling out from work unless it’s something really bad. So I hope we can talk about it—whatever it is that’s bothering you—if it’s something you’re ready to talk about.”

There was something else—some other nuance he’d meant to say—but his words hadn’t quite come out right. He’d meant to ask, in a sense, whether there was something specific that was bothering Allen—and whether Allen himself knew what it was. Not whether it was something he was ready to talk about.

Greg could already almost see Allen thinking too hard on it, and he knew Allen well enough now. He knew what Allen would find if he thought on the words too hard. Greg let his thumb brush along Allen’s cheekbone as he watched his husband’s gray-blue eyes refocus on him. Then he leaned down and kissed Allen’s lips softly.

“Darling, I didn’t mean anything other than—”

“Can we go inside? Please. Sorry—sorry to interrupt you. I shouldn’t have done that. I just... I’m just cold, and I want to go inside. Please.”

“Of course, darling.”

He didn’t argue—Allen’s reaction was just more evidence that they did need to talk and that Allen had made the right decision to stay home from work today. Instead, he stood and helped Allen up and whistled to the dog, who came bounding over to join them. Then he took Allen’s hand and led him inside, pausing briefly at the door to towel Beans dry before guiding Allen the rest of the way to the living room and over to the couch.

After he got Allen settled, he knelt down in front of him and set his hands on Allen’s knees. Allen blinked his eyes open, and Greg pursed his lips to avoid showing all of his concern. He took a deep breath and glanced up at the clock on the wall. 7:15 a.m.

“Are you better? I mean, is this better? Warmer, at least?” When Allen nodded, Greg pushed himself up onto his feet and then took a spot on the couch next to Allen. As he’d done when he’d sat outside with Greg, Allen nearly melted right into his arms, and Greg hugged him tightly.

“I have two deliveries later today. One at ten in Carnation and then one at noon all the way up in Everett. So we have time to talk before I have to leave, and... Actually, are you able to come with me? If not, I’ll just reschedule.”

A tickle of Greg’s own anxiety started to nag at him as Allen didn’t answer right away. He remembered their argument last Saturday. How Allen had gotten angry, stalked off, refused to let Greg walk him to work. And then getting the phone call from Annabeth that Allen had fainted and that they had an ambulance on the way.

Why did everything seem so... tenuous right now? So fragile? So ready to break? Even when he knew his love for his husband was as strong as ever.

And why was he worried he’d push Allen away more if he asked for answers? If he insisted on not leaving Allen alone?

And why did that all scare the hell out of him?

“I feel like I want to die.”

Right. That was why. His stomach twisted painfully as he recalled Allen’s words, and he tightened his arms around his husband again.

“Allen, talk to me. Please, please talk to me.”

He felt more than heard Allen suck in a sharp breath, and then Allen nodded. “Don’t reschedule your work stuff. I’ll ride along with you. And...”

Greg waited patiently, though he felt very much the opposite of patient at the moment, his mind buzzing with too many what-ifs and uncertainties. Allen was taking slow, unsteady breaths, his hand pressing into Greg’s side as though to anchor himself.

“And I want you to go on that work trip for Paul,” Allen said finally. And once he’d admitted that, everything else seemed to spill out as Allen continued clinging to him. “I don’t want you to stay home. I don’t want you to stop working because of me. I don’t want to be the reason you—you don’t go places. You live for that stuff—those hikes and those trips and finding exactly the right photo and... and I don’t want to ruin that for you. I’ve already messed everything up enough. I’m sorry. I’ve already made your life—”

“—wonderful,” Greg cut in, interrupting Allen’s rambling. “Wonderful and incredible and the best life, full of love and passion and happiness. Allen...” He took a shaky breath and buried his head into Allen’s hair. “Allen, no, no, my love. You have made my life worth living. Being with you, being your husband—that’s the most important thing to me. I wouldn’t—”

Allen shook his head emphatically. “No. No, you have to go on that trip. It’s... your only chance. I’m—I’m—no. No.”

Tears burned his eyes, but Greg held them back as he kissed Allen’s hair. “Allen, I won’t leave you for that long. I can’t do it. I would always— always —rather stay with you, rather be with you.”

“Then I’ll come with you. It might take a little extra time, because I’m not as fit, but—”

“No, Allen. That won’t work. It’s too difficult a hike. Dangerous, even.”

“Then—then you have to go alone, and I’ll—I’ll be fine here. I’ve got Beans. And Joe’s just next door. And—and I’ve got my work at the—at the library, and...” Allen took a strangled breath as he trailed off, his head still buried in Greg’s chest. “You have to go. You have to.”

Greg was quiet as Allen stopped arguing and began mumbling “I’m sorry” over and over. Still shaking. And still cold.

“Why... do you really feel so strongly about this, Allen?” he asked after Allen seemed to calm just slightly. “Because I can’t—I won’t leave you right now. Not for the work trip, not for some hike or some photo. They are things I don’t need. I need you, though, Allen. And I want to be here with you. And if you think—”

“I’m horrible for you,” Allen cut in. “You deserve so much better. I’m ruining—I’m ruining everything. I’m so sorry. I’m not... I’m not worth... I don’t know why...”

Allen continued, his words becoming more and more muddled both in clarity and meaning, and Greg just held him as tightly as he could, rocking them slightly back and forth as his mind raced and his heart ached. It was as though every bad and terrible thing Allen had ever thought about himself needed to come out then, and the only positive Greg could even try to see in that moment was that Allen was still clinging to him, even as he spiraled.

And god, what a spiral it was.

Greg pressed a kiss to Allen’s forehead as his words finally slowed down, but his stilted breathing and trembling didn’t fade. And Allen uttered just two more words before he began sobbing against Greg’s chest.

“I’m s-sorry.”

***

Greg pulled the SUV and trailer up along the curb outside a huge two-story home in a small, newish neighborhood in southwest Everett. Allen sat quietly in the passenger seat next to him, reading a book, or at least pretending to read a book.

“Here we are. I’ll just be a few minutes. I’m supposed to help them hang the prints too, but it shouldn’t be long. That okay, darling? And since we’re up here, we can grab lunch at that little café you like down by the waterfront when I’m done. How does that sound?”

Allen nodded slightly but otherwise didn’t answer. It was as it had been since that morning—since their “talk.” Since Allen had practically begged Greg to go on that trip for Paul. If he wasn’t starving—having skipped breakfast in favor of spending more time comforting Allen—he would just say they should head straight home. Allen was clearly not okay still. Maybe they should go back to see Dr. Schultz as soon as possible. Or maybe Allen just needed to sleep more, although he’d been doing an awful lot of that lately. Or maybe he just needed to be somewhere safe and quiet so his brain could steady itself and reset. Maybe they needed to continue right on up the coast to Anacortes, hop on the ferry, and go take their vacation now.

Greg didn’t know what was best.

All he knew was that he somehow needed to convince Allen that his life was worth more than any of Greg’s hobbies and passions, including his career and his camera.

He reached over and touched Allen’s cheek, and Allen closed his eyes with a short sigh.

“I won’t be long,” Greg said softly.

Then he grabbed his cell phone from its holder, shoved it into his pocket, and hopped out of the SUV. He jogged up to the front door and spoke briefly with Mitchell and his wife, Suzanne. They brought him inside and showed him where they wanted the prints hung on the walls. Then he got to work.

And he was mostly focused. And cordial and friendly. Mitchell and Suzanne were both chatty and open, and continued to rave about how wonderful the prints looked, how talented a photographer Greg was, how they couldn’t wait to buy another print at some point. It was distracting enough for a few minutes.

When he finished, he shook hands with both of them, thanked them again for their business and support, and then turned to head back down to where the SUV and trailer were parked. Allen was watching him from inside the vehicle still, and Greg gave him a small smile as he headed down the walkway. Allen sort of half-smiled back. But his eyes were tired and sad.

Allen’s words from that morning echoed in his head as Greg turned toward the trailer to make sure everything was secure and closed up.

“I don’t want to ruin that for you.”

“I’ve already messed everything up enough.”

“You deserve so much better.”

God, none of that was true. Allen hadn’t ruined anything. He hadn’t messed up anything. And Greg didn’t want or need anything more. He had all he’d ever wanted, all he’d ever needed in his husband. Why couldn’t Allen see that?

He knew the answer. He knew the depth and extent of Allen’s traumas, rooted in his childhood. The neglect and abuse. The berating. The insults. The list went on and on.

But it almost hurt—the fact that Allen sometimes still pushed Greg away. Especially when things got really bad. Like now.

And everything— everything —that had beaten Allen down in the last couple of weeks... it all seemed to have this compounding effect. Allen’s tiredness after their trip to Friday Harbor for the farmers’ market. Then what happened at the library with Christopher and Owen. Then all of that aftermath, all of Allen’s feelings growing and escalating, ultimately causing him to faint at work.

Greg took a deep breath and leaned his back against the closed door of the trailer.

No wonder.

He hadn’t really been wondering. It all followed some terrible, logical progression, even if that progression had spiraled out of his and Allen’s control. But when he let himself really think about it and remember all of those little pieces of the puzzle fitting together everywhere, it did make sense.

Allen’s guilt and shame and depression and lack of self-worth.

God, his poor husband. All he wanted to do, all he ever wanted to do, was to show Allen all of the love he deserved. And he deserved it all.

Somehow, Greg needed to figure out how to convince Allen of that.

In a sudden burst of inspiration, Greg’s hand shot down to his pocket, and he pulled out his cell phone, hit a few buttons, and lifted it up to his ear .

“Annabeth, hi. It’s Greg... No, Allen’s fine, he’s just, well... He doesn’t know I’m calling to ask, but would it be an issue with you if he were to take a few extra sick days, maybe through the weekend?”