Dinner was a quiet affair.

Daphne tried bombarding Justin with questions, but got only one-worded answers in return.

Brian pretended to be deep in thought, but was extra aware of Justin’s every move. When Justin crossed his legs under the table, his socked foot touched Brian’s calf.

“Sorry,” Justin mouthed, blushing.

It was the first real reaction Brian had seen at Justin ever since he had arrived, less than an hour ago.

Once they were done eating, Daphne brought a tablet of chocolate.

“No. It’s late. He won’t sleep if he eats chocolate.” Justin pushed the offered dessert away, despite the pout on his son’s face. “Maybe a glass of warm milk?”

“Sure. I have milk.” Daphne went to the fridge, and pulled out the carton box.

“How are we sleeping?” he asked, looking around the table.

“I’ll take the couch,” Brian offered.

Justin stared at him for a long minute, before answering, “Okay.” He turned his attention to his best friend. “Could you bring the milk to the guestroom? I’m going to change Nick in his pjs.”

Brian stared surprised after Justin’s retreating form. He had expected to be asked if he was sure about the sleeping arrangements, showing his concern about Brian’s injury.

“It’s nothing new. This is the new Justin. Get used to him.”

“This is insane. I can’t even recognize him.” Brian frowned, trying to understand what had happened to Justin.

Daphne shrugged. “Here’s Tylenol. I’ll bring them the milk, then turn in. I have to leave early.”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday, isn’t it?” Brian asked, confused.

“So? People get sick at the end of the week, too. Night, Brian.”

After taking his pill, Brian hopped to the couch. He turned on the TV, found an old movie, and settled better, burrowing under the blanket.

He had managed to dozen off, because the movie credits were rolling when he opened his eyes next time. But what woke him was a noise from the kitchen.

Curious, Brian went to inspect what was going on. He could distinguish Justin in the dark room, sitting at the table, crying. Tears were rolling down his cheeks, knotting at his chin. His fingers were twirling around a ring.

Justin startled when he saw a figure in the doorway. Hastily slipping the ring back on his finger and wiping his eyes, he turned to face Brian.

They stared at each other for minutes on end, before Brian broke the spell, grabbing a glass of water.

“What happened to your foot?”

“The garage door won the fight,” Brian joked.

“You still haven’t repaired it from when I backed into it?” Justin asked, incredulously.

“I still haven’t.”

“You’re too lazy. Besides, hitting inanimate objects will get you nowhere. You have to repair that door, instead of getting mad every time it catches.”

“I can’t say I missed your PSA moments.”

“I’m stating the obvious.” Justin shrugged, keeping his eyes on Brian’s foot. “Is it broken?”

“Only sprained.” Brian took a few gulps of water. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care. It’s your garage door. If you don’t want to repair it, whatever.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Brian sat across from him. “I’m sorry for…” He waved to the ring on Justin’s finger.

“Oh, yeah.” Tears spilled from his eyes again. “I couldn’t do this on my own. I couldn’t live there…too many memories in our condo. I have no idea what to tell Nick when he asks for Papa.” A sob caught in his throat. “Have you ever felt like you were drowning and there was no hope to ever resurface?”

Brian nodded, not trusting his voice. He was in awe at how changed Justin was. He could barely recognize him. Try as he might, nothing of the old Justin was still present.

“That’s how I feel.” Justin sniffed, snatching a napkin from the end of the table. “How did you pull out of this darkness?”

“You came back.”

Justin frowned. “You do realize I’m not here for you?”

“I meant back then. When you first ran off to your fiddler. Funny, you’re feeling now how I felt then. He broke us up once, and then you ran off to him when we were done.”

Justin pressed the napkin to his face, trying not to burst into a fresh round of tears. “I don’t know if you understand or believe me, but I really loved Ethan. It’s not uncommon to love two people.”

“Of course you did. So convenient for him to be in the right place when you left me; some would call that shit fate. And you fell for his bullshit again.”

Justin slammed his fist to the table, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t say a word against Ethan! Okay, the first time was a mistake. We got that covered. But now…it was the whole deal.”

“I wanted to branch out Kinnetik,” Brian said loudly, growing angry.

“You told me that when we were breaking up.” Justin shrugged, indifferently.

“If you would have waited a few months…”

“Stop, Brian! Stop. I don’t want to rehash that old argument. We’re done. It’s over.”

“But you still love me. You still thought of me all those years.” Brian knew him too well. He was ready to crack that tough façade Justin was keeping.

“You were a huge part of my life. I couldn’t forget you.”

“You still love me,” Brian insisted.

“Cut it out!”

“Deny it!” He smirked, when he saw Justin squirming in his chair.

“Daddy, I can’t sleep,” a small voice said from the doorway. “Why can’t Papa play for me?”

“Fuck,” Justin cursed under his breath. He wasn’t ready for that conversation—again. “Nick, we talked about this. Papa can’t play for you anymore.”

“Why did he leave? Did I do something wrong?”

At a loss, Justin caught Brian’s eye, unsure if he was asking for help or merely watching his reaction. If Brian disliked Ethan, it didn’t matter; other people loved him unconditionally, and now they were suffering.

Brian pulled his phone out, thumbing through it. “What kind of classical music does he like?” He glanced at Justin over the rim of his phone.

“Uh…anything, really.” Justin was surprised Brian offered to help.

He found a playlist of violin music on YouTube. “This okay?”

“Yeah, thank you.” Unlike his son, it was difficult for Justin to hear violin music. It made the hole in his chest grow deeper. “We need to go back to sleep, though.” He picked his son, facing Brian.

“Take it.” Brian placed his phone in Justin’s hand. “It’s charged. It should do the trick until he’s asleep.”

Moved by the gesture, Justin gave Brian his first genuine smile. Small, but still real.

“How do you say?” He bounced Nick in his arms.

“Thank you,” Nick whispered, hiding his face in his father’s neck.

“You’re welcome. Well, I’ll let you sleep…”

“Yeah.”

“Night.”

“Night, Brian.” As they walked down the hall to the guest room, Justin glanced back to see Brian slouching on the couch, throwing most likely more pills in his mouth.

###

In the morning, Brian woke up to the smell of coffee.

It took him a few moments to remember where he was. When he first saw the unfamiliar surroundings, he thought he had gone home with some trick.

But as he woke up more and more, everything came crashing on him like a bucket of ice cold water—the garage door, his injured foot, his call to Daphne, Justin.

Justin and his secrets.

Such a different Justin than what he was used to.

As Brian turned his head in the kitchen’s direction, he gasped. Right in front of him was Nick—Justin’s son.

The child’s blue eyes widened, before he dashed to the kitchen, announcing loudly. “He’s awake, Daddy!”

His comment was followed by a loud groan. “I told you not to wake him, just check if he was awake or not.”

“I was already up,” Brian called out. “Is there coffee?”

To his surprise, Justin brought two cups of coffee to the couch, handing one to Brian, before sitting at his feet. “Sorry if he woke you up.”

“He didn’t.” Brian took a sip from the coffee, catching Justin’s eye. It was just the way he drank it, with extra sugar. “Did Daphne leave?”

“Yeah. She wasn’t around when we woke up. It’s ten.”

“I must have knocked down too many pills. I haven’t slept for so long in….fuck if I remember.” Brian curled his good foot under him, holding the cup in both hands. His eyes inspected the person who looked like his Sunshine, but was so different and cold.

Nick climbed on the couch, snuggling into Justin’s side. He eyed Brian curiously, but didn’t say anything.

“How old is he?”

“Six, in a few months.” Justin rubbed a hand over his son’s arm. “Do you plan on sitting here all day?”

“It’s not like I can do much.”

“Do you want me to start barking orders again? Seriously, Brian. You have a sprained ankle, not…” He clamped his mouth shut, swallowing hard. “You even made it through that,” he hissed after a few moments.

“Why do you ask?” Brian wasn’t ready to start an argument.

“I have stuff to do. I need to find a place to live, a gallery to bring my paintings in, and I guess I should see the family. Or they’ll have my balls if I hide in here for too long.”

“Why not stay with Daphne?”

“I want to make it on my own.”

“Well, you can talk to your mom about house-hunting,” Brian suggested. At Justin’s incredulous look, he went on. “Or, you could live with me. That house is half yours.”

“What? Oh, yeah. No, thanks.”

“Which reminds me…” Brian narrowed his eyes. “How could you do such a stupid thing? Do you realize what you’ve done?”

“Excuse me,” he hissed, then turned to his son. “Why don’t you go to the guest room and play with your toys, baby? Daddy needs to talk to Brian.”

Nick chewed on his lip, before reluctantly going.

Justin placed his coffee on the table, glaring at Brian. “What have I done pray tell? I had no idea I should have asked for your blessing to start dating again.”

“All I’m saying is that I don’t give a fuck if you went back to the fucking fiddler. The problem is that you fucking married him. Legally, no less.”

“So? The invitation must have gotten lost in the mail.”

“Can you use your blond brain?” Brian shouted.

“No! My lone neuron is slamming against the walls. Enlighten me! What did I do wrong in marrying Ethan to irk you so badly?”

“You own half of everything I do. Have you forgotten that part? Kinnetik, Babylon…Britin. Everything. If something happened to you, that piece of shit could have ruined me. And he would have done it.”

“For the last fucking time, stop bad-mouthing Ethan. As for the other part…I really didn’t think of it,” Justin mumbled.

“Exactly. That’s your problem—you don’t think! You just act. You have always been hot headed.”

“Look who’s talking! Can we stop this? I’m not mentally prepared to have one of our famous arguments.”

“Yeah, hot make-up sex is off-limits,” Brian sneered. “Just go do whatever the fuck you want. I’ll be here.”

Justin fisted his hands at his sides. “I wanted to ask you to take care of Nick, but since you’re an asshole, I’ll drag him after me.”

“I don’t wanna go anywhere,” Nick whined from the doorway, where he had listened to everything the adults had talked.

“Nick,” Justin whirled around. “How long have you been there? Nevermind. You have time to decide what you want to do while I talk to Mitchell about my paintings.”

“Why don’t you come here?” Brian patted the spot next to him on the couch, smiling encouragingly at the boy. “We’ll make friends, you go do your stuff,” he added to Justin.

“Good luck with that. He’s really shy.”

Nick sat at the far end of the couch, dangling his feet off the edge.

“I’m Brian,” Brian said.

“I know,” Nick whispered.

“I’m your daddy’s…friend.”

“I know.”

“You do?” Brian was surprised by that piece of information.

Nick bobbed his head. “Daddy talked about a Brian.”

“He did?”

“Pappy was upset every time Daddy talked about you.”

Brian hid his smile in his cup of coffee. “And what did your daddy say about me?”

Nick shrugged, keeping his eyes on his feet. “Why did you fight with Daddy? Can’t you see he’s already upset?”

“That’s between your dad and me. We haven’t seen each other in too long. I guess, we grew apart and see things differently,” Brian explained.

Justin stormed into the room, looking murderous. “Okay. I’ll bring my things home. I mean…to Britin…your house. That idiot can’t keep them because I left the state. Is he fucking serious? It sounds like I’m a delinquent!”

“Good. When do you bring them?”

“He’ll ship them off later tomorrow. Apparently, I can keep them there until the end of the month…a few more days, anyway.” Running both hands through his hair, Justin slumped on the couch, jostling Brian’s leg. “Sorry.” He quickly touched his leg, before snatching his hand back.

“What about your clothes? And other stuff?” Brian inquired, ignoring Justin’s gesture.

“Most of our clothes are in the bags I brought over. Mitchell will send everything else, then I’m firing him. I’ve put up with him for too long.”

“I like Mitchell.” Nick threw his dad a smile.

“Of course, you do. He brings you candy every time he visits.” Justin shook his head. “Uh, I just saw…out the window…is that your car out there?”

“Yeah. Why? Something happen?” Brian pushed away panic. It would be full cycle—first time he met Justin, his car got trashed, now when he met this new Justin, something happened to his car again.

“No.” Justin fought a smile, thinking the same thing as Brian. “I was wondering…if you want…”

“Shotgun,” Brian blurted out.

“Was there any doubt? It’s your car. But are you sure?”

“Why not?”

“We’ll go somewhere together…I’m back, and the first person they see me around is you. Fuck. Do they even want to see me again? I’ve been such an asshole, but I guess I was too afraid of being judged by everyone based on my decision to get back with Ethan and…New York was my safe haven.”

“Don’t be a twat! Give me a few minutes. Shit. I don’t have a change of clothes. Daphne said she’d run home, but she didn’t…”

“I can drive you home first, then…we can see everyone at the diner for lunch?”

“Sounds like a plan.”