If I thought it had broken my heart to hear Justin tell me that he was sorry, the way I’d felt then paled in comparison to what it felt like to sit in his therapist’s office and watch him cry while I summarized what had happened that morning, with Justin’s permission of course. I said what little I knew and watched as he struggled to respond to the handful of direct questions he was asked, which all seemed to be aimed at figuring out the answer to my earlier question of how best to help him -- what he needed. Meanwhile, I had to continue holding myself together and not let how scared and overwhelmed I was -- and how helpless I felt -- create any sort of distraction.

In the end, we went home together, after scheduling another appointment for two days later, with Justin holding a sheet of paper that contained a "safety plan" -- basically an outline of the things Justin would do instead if he started feeling that way again, and a list of people he could use as a support system if needed. When John had asked him who those people should be, Justin immediately said my name first, as if he didn’t even have to think about it. And honestly, that was a relief to me. I don’t know why I was afraid he would say someone else -- maybe because of how badly I felt I’d already fucked this up -- but he didn’t, and I was grateful for that. Maybe he did feel like I could help him, after all. Justin had also signed the paper as a promise that he wouldn't hurt himself, and that he was okay to go home with me. As I sat with him in the back seat of a cab -- Justin's request because he didn't want to ride with anyone who might know us -- I found myself wondering again how we'd gotten to that point. How had I not realized just how bad things were? How blind had I been? And knowing that Justin had been all alone with those feelings for so long was enough to break my heart all over again.

Justin was sitting in the middle of the back seat, leaning against me, and I could tell he was exhausted -- not just emotionally, but physically too. So was I, to be honest, but his needs came first. He didn’t say anything on the ride home, and after a while, I thought he’d fallen asleep, but when I looked down, his eyes were open, staring straight ahead, just blinking. Numb.

I wasn’t surprised that the first thing Justin wanted to do when we got home was lie down for a while, and honestly, I was grateful to have an opportunity to do that myself, once I’d taken care of a few things. Justin’s focus for the rest of the day was supposed to be practicing self care and letting go of anything he’d been holding against himself. Though Justin hadn’t said much in his session with John, one thing we’d managed to decipher was how scared Justin had been that I would find out how “not together” he felt, because he hadn’t been sure how I would react. Apparently my “not good enough” complex was contagious -- at least to Justin’s mind in the state he was in. But now I knew, and I was still there, so that was one thing he could let go of. The rest, however, was still a mystery. I also knew from my own experience that letting go of things could be a tall order, so I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect from the rest of the afternoon and evening.

First, I had to call Cynthia -- who I was surprised hadn’t called me yet -- so I could get her help with clearing my calendar for the next few days. I didn’t want Justin to feel like I was hovering, but at the same time, I wanted him to feel like I was there for him if he needed me, so it seemed best if I stayed home, at least until after he’d had his next therapy appointment. I wondered if Rob had already said something to her, since she hadn’t called, but regardless, I had a couple of things I was going to need covered, so she and I had to talk.

It knew it would be a slightly awkward phone call, because I didn’t want to “out” Justin. This wasn’t my story to tell; it was his. I respected that, and I wasn’t going to put his private business out there, not even to someone I considered a close friend. Luckily, Rob had already laid the groundwork by telling Cynthia that Justin hadn’t been feeling well the night before, and suggesting that perhaps I’d gone home because of that.

“I wondered why you’d left your computer on, and you hadn’t bothered rinsing your coffee mug out,” she said, still sounding a little confused, after she’d explained what Rob had told her. “Is Justin okay?”

“He’s okay.” I really didn’t want to get into any details, so I kept right on talking, without giving her an opportunity to press further. “I need you to take care of the pitch I’ve got with that formalwear boutique tomorrow. And I’ve got a conference call in the morning with Remsen, so if you could join me on that call and be ready to take care of anything that needs done at the office after that, I would really appreciate it.”

“Sure, anytime. You know I don’t mind.”

“Thanks. You’re a lifesaver. As always.”

“You know you don’t have to thank me either.”

“Hey, at least I’ve learned how to do that, so you’d better take it when I’m giving it out.” I managed to joke, somehow, in spite of how raw I was still feeling after the events of the past several hours. Lots of practice at building walls, I supposed, though I didn’t often keep Cynthia on the outside of them, and I hadn’t for a long time.

I could practically see Cynthia rolling her eyes as she said, “Alright. You’re welcome.” Then, her inflection turned from teasing to serious when she added, “Let me know if you need anything. I can stop by on my way home.”

“I’m good,” I lied. I actually would have liked to have a few things from my desk, but I really didn’t think Justin would be up to visitors, and frankly, I wasn’t sure I was either.

When Cynthia and I hung up, I went back to the bedroom to check on Justin, finding him in bed with his eyes closed, breathing deeply. His facial expression looked so peaceful, his body relaxed -- a sharp contrast to the deep despair and internal chaos that had been present earlier. I was thankful he was getting a break, though, physically and mentally.

Trying to be as quiet as possible, I cleaned up the bathroom -- something I’d wanted to do earlier, but I hadn’t wanted to leave Justin alone. He also hadn’t wanted to be left alone. But now that he was sleeping, I could finally get rid of the evidence I didn’t want to look at anymore, and that I didn’t want him looking at either. I took stock of what was left of both of our prescriptions, making a note of what I needed to reorder and what I had to call about, but he actually hadn’t emptied anything completely. He had a pretty even assortment, and had left a good amount behind in every bottle, which seemed oddly conscientious, especially given how dire the situation had been.

Once that was finished and the bathroom was back to its normal state, I went back into the living room so I could stretch out on the chaise lounge. As much as I would have loved to climb in bed with Justin and snuggle up against him, hug his body in close to mine and never let him go, I also didn’t want to take a chance on waking him up in the process, because I knew it was going to take me awhile to get comfortable, and I didn’t want to disturb his peace -- peace that he desperately needed. Peace he deserved to have.

I hadn’t realized just how loudly my legs were talking to me until I got myself into a position that was at least semi-reclined and propped my right leg up on a couple of pillows. I’d been so distracted by everything else that I hadn’t had time to think about it. I knew I needed to relax, and that I was going to have to find a way to not completely ignore my own physical needs while also giving Justin what he needed. I had no idea how I was going to find that balance, though, especially given that my first impulse was to swing the pendulum in the other direction and focus only on Justin -- myself be damned.

I leaned back and let my eyes close, suddenly realizing just how exhausted I was too, though I was reluctant to allow myself to drift off, because I wanted to be available if Justin needed me. Logically, I knew those two things were not mutually exclusive, but at that point, I felt so guilty for having done so much to ignore what was really going on with Justin, that I didn’t want to take a chance on that happening again, even inadvertently.

I was still fighting sleep -- though I was getting closer to losing the battle -- when my phone started buzzing in my shirt pocket. I’d already made up my mind before I even pulled it out that if it was anyone from the office other than Rob or Cynthia, I wasn’t answering. I wasn’t in the mood for dealing with anyone’s mundane bullshit -- not with what I’d already been dealing with that day -- and I couldn’t guarantee that I wouldn’t go off on them. But it was Rob. Rob, to whom I now owed a debt of gratitude I’d never be able to repay, because the wakeup call he’d given me very well might have saved Justin’s life.

“Hey,” I said, hating how tired I sounded, even though I knew Rob wouldn’t judge me for it, and he’d know what was behind it without even asking.

“Just checking on you guys,” Rob said. His inflection was casual, but there was also an underlying note of concern. “Seeing if there’s anything you need.”

I took a deep breath and let it out before I responded. “We’re okay,” I said, though I could hear how not-convincing my tone was, and I knew Rob would hear it as well.

“How’s Justin?” Rob’s question was simple, but it had a lot of unspoken underlayers too, and I knew exactly what they were. We both did.

“He’s…” I paused for a moment, because I really didn’t know how to answer the question. Honestly, I didn’t know if there was a way to verbalize exactly how Justin was, or if I even understood the half of it. I was sure I didn’t. We’d probably barely scratched the surface of how Justin was feeling, deep down inside. And that was a little scary. “He’s okay,” I said, almost as if I was trying to convince my own self of the truth of that statement. “But you were right. It was…” I stopped and took another breath. “It was bad. Thanks for the wakeup call.”

“I just wish I’d been wrong. But I’m glad he’s alright.” Rob didn’t ask what I’d come home to, and I was thankful for that. I knew he could make his own inferences based on what he’d seen, though, and that was likely why he wasn’t asking for details.

“He’s resting now. We just got home from his therapist’s office. It’s…” I had to stop again, this time because the emotions that had been pounding against the dam I’d been keeping them behind for hours were threatening to overflow, now that I was on the phone with someone who was “safe.” I swallowed, trying to push them back. “That was hard.”

“I know. It’s not easy to be on his side of it either.”

“I know,” I echoed back, still struggling against my own emotions. “We got here because I was being selfish. I’m doing it again, aren’t I? Goddamn it.”

“Not at all.” Rob’s voice was understanding, and I’d known him long enough that I could see the exact look he’d have on his face if he were sitting in front of me -- one full of compassion and patience. “You’re not being selfish; you’re being human. Your partner is hurting really badly. You get to have feelings about that. It’s not easy for anybody.”

I couldn’t respond to that, because if I did, I was going to lose what little control I had over my emotions, and I didn’t want to do that. Not yet.

“I’ll let you go,” Rob said, as if he was sensing my silent struggle. “But if there’s anything either of you need, any time, just call me.” He paused for a moment, then added, “Take care of him. But promise me you’ll take care of yourself too. If you need to cry, let yourself do it. And if you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”

I didn’t say anything back, because I couldn’t, and after a few seconds, Rob seemed to realize that and ended the call, opening the door for me to let go of all I’d been holding back. I just hoped that Justin was still asleep, because the last thing I wanted was him coming out there and seeing me losing my shit. He didn’t need anything else to worry about.

It was hard to put a name to everything I was feeling and everything I was letting out at that moment -- fear, uncertainty, overwhelm, guilt, and sadness, among a multitude of other emotions that had been building behind the wall I’d tried to lock them behind for Justin’s benefit. But that wall was only so strong, and it could only hold for so long. Now, it had been breached, and I was sitting alone, crying silent tears on our sofa. Honestly, wishing I had someone to hold me the same way I’d held Justin before -- even though that’s something I’d never have admitted out loud. I wasn’t sure I’d been so desperate for a hug since I was a teenager, showing up on Michael’s doorstep with a bloody nose or a black eye.

But I couldn’t do this alone; I was going to need a support system too. That thought made me feel weak, even though I knew it shouldn’t have, and I also knew that Rob was right -- I was human. But openly having feelings about anything still wasn’t a position I liked to be in, especially not when I wasn’t sure I deserved to be having those feelings, in spite of what Rob had said. However, I knew that if I was going to be helpful to Justin, I was going to have to get past that shit. I didn’t have a choice. I just wasn’t sure how to do it.

I didn’t remember falling asleep, but I must have, because the next thing I recalled was hearing someone moving around in the kitchen, and looking over to see Justin standing behind the island, making himself some tea. He still didn’t look well -- not at all, and I wouldn’t have expected him to -- but it was nice to see him doing something “normal,” even though I was sure he felt anything but.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Sorry if I woke you up.”

“It’s okay,” I said, meaning it more fully than I had at any point in our relationship, or perhaps my entire life. At that point, I felt like Justin could wake me up every hour for the rest of our lives, and I’d continue to be grateful that he was there to do it at all. But I also had no idea what to say next, because everything that was coming to mind felt inadequate. Asking him if he was feeling better seemed stupid, and I didn’t want to make him have to tell me how he was doing, because I already knew the answer. This was a situation I’d never been in before, and in some ways, I felt as lost as I was sure Justin did.

But he took the burden off of me when he carried his tea over to the sofa and sat down next to me with a sigh, saying, “I don’t want to talk about it. Not yet. Maybe not for a while.”

I put my arm around him, hesitantly at first because I wasn’t sure what he wanted or what was right in that moment, then pulling him in close once I felt him lean in to my touch.

“Whenever you are, I’ll listen,” I said. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, ever.”

And I meant every word.

I’d never meant anything more.