STAYING or GOING: BOOK II: CHAPTER 10: 7 LIVES EXPOSED/ IF ONLY YOU KNEW Part 3 

BRIAN:

We opted to sit in the yellow chairs this time, while reading our letters to each other. I must admit that it felt strange to put it all on paper and get it out there. But the important thing is that he now knows all of what I was feeling during that time period. That’s pretty huge, when you consider our penchant for not speaking at all. Aside from these being the first letters we’ve ever written to each other that weren’t in email form, I know that he’s read the letter so many times that he knows it by heart. 

Sentimental Twat! But that’s one of the things I love about him. In all honesty, there isn’t much not to love about him. Even some of his more annoying habits are- and yes, I’m looking for the fucking lightning- remarkably adorkable. He’s a man who is both surprising and predictable, who satisfies me in too many ways to list, but most importantly, he’s my partner in every way that truly matters! 

“What are your thoughts, Sunshine?” I ask him.

“That I can’t believe we’re finally getting it all out there, Brian. True, it’s something that I thought would never happen. I thought we would both stay hidden in the silences…”

“And repeat past mistakes?” I ask. After a time, he nods in agreement with my assessment. 

“It just seemed safer.”

“I imagine it did. In fact, I agree that with both of our volatile personalities, it is safer not to rock the boat unduly. But that’s no way to live; it’s no way for US to live. Not any more.”

“You’re right, Bri. It’s just another form of suffocation.”

“And it’s trying to kill us again, Sunshine. So the question is: what are we going to stop it this time? According to your letter, Ethan happened because of it. Is that why we’re here again; is it that you want someone else?” I ask, swallowing hard at the lump in my throat that is threatening to choke me.

He looks shocked for a moment and then shakes his head faster than I’ve ever seen him do before. “Brian, Ethan was a special brand of crazy in my world. In fact, he was normal. In all honesty, had you been anything like him, I would have left… for good.”

“How do you figure that?”

“You’re misinterpreting, which is why it’s a good thing we’re allowed to talk about him tonight, I guess. Ethan was- for lack of a better description- the fairy tale all children are taught to expect. Unfortunately for me, it seems that a lot of supposed adults still expect the black and white world of that particular fantasy, and told me I was supposed to exist within that world as well. However, you’re the real deal. And if I had my choice, I never would have left your realism in exchange for the lies. Strangely, it was Daphne who pointed that out to me.”

“Daphne? How?”

He sighs, and I can tell that it’s something he never really wanted me to know about. That he’s willing to divulge this little glimpse into his and Ethan’s dynamic is telling me more about how much he wants this, us, to work, than anything else. I know deep-down that it’s not an easy subject for him, and quite possibly an episode in his life that he would love to leave dead, stinking, and buried somewhere in his subconscious, never to be dug up again. But this can’t work if he chooses to do that at this juncture. It’s at the point where the idea of full-disclosure is not just a theory, but our way forward; I know he realizes that.

“About two days after you’d given Ethan your ‘nothing noble about being poor’ speech, and he’d signed the contract, effectively putting he and I as a couple back into our proverbial closets, he was being interviewed by some lady from a music magazine. The thing that pissed Daphne off more than anything is that the woman was in the midst of asking Ethan a relationship question when we walked in. He choked, ultimately telling the woman that I was his cousin and that Daph was my girlfriend. Then asked us to leave the apartment, which I was primarily paying for with the money I made while working at the Diner. To say that Daphne was beyond pissed would be an understatement…”

“I always did love that girl,” I interject wryly, which caused him to smile briefly in acknowledgement.

“Well, she’s my bestie for a very good reason,” he retorts before continuing. “The thing that most pissed her off was that I was somehow going to be forced back into the closet I’d nearly died coming out of. She pointed out that it was something you NEVER would have done to me, or allowed me to do to myself; that you never would have forced me to negate what happened, or to compromise my principles in order to be with you that way. I told her to drop it, and she did, but not without the type of attitude and murderous looks that Daphne can give. That was the day that whatever illusion I had that I could make things work between he and I was shattered beyond repair.”

“But you stayed anyway.” A statement of fact, not an accusation.

He nods again, but then adds, “Remember, Brian, I was in a really weird place within myself. It was punishment, and I deserved whatever I got for getting into that mess in the first place. So staying in that situation, when I had lost all hope of being able to fix things with you, seemed the right thing to do. I mean, why should I even attempt to be happy, when the only man who tried to make sure I was okay was miserable, right? Anyway, it was a variation of the adage that if you make your bed of fire, be prepared to sleep on the hot coals. This was me dealing with my own fucked-up choices.”

“Why didn’t you just come home?” I asked, really curious as to the answer.

“I didn’t think I had a home to come back to. Not just because of what happened between us, but because the loft was always your place. Even when I was living there full-time, it was nothing for others to barge in whenever they felt like it, as if they owned it… owned you. It always felt as if I was living on borrowed time. At least with Ethan, I didn’t have to worry about that.”

Instead of getting pissed about it, I’m beginning to see a lot of this from his perspective. Even before the bashing happened, Michael and Lindsay had keys to my place. There’s no telling what was said or done in my absence that he’d either brushed off, or let fester so that he wouldn’t bother me with it. I don’t know why it never occurred to me before to ask him about those times when he would casually tell me that either of them had come by while I wasn’t home; never thought to ask about the funny inflection in his voice that I can hear now, plain as day, in remembrance. Perhaps if I did, he wouldn’t have forgotten his place in my life, even before the incident happened.

Shaking that thought off for now- it will definitely need to be addressed later- I get back to trying to, as Alex said, clear the clutter from that time. “So why then was it okay for you to constantly tell me that what happened with Hobbs wasn’t my fault, yet not okay for you to feel the same way in regards to yourself? From where I sit, you couldn’t have predicted that the asshole would do that to you.”

And that’s when I hear the shuddering breath. I can see that he’s tempted to run for the red chair, which would cut this conversation shorter than shit, before it even started. And even though I’m uneasy about the answer he’s going to give me, I’m glad that he’s prepared to prove me right about him being a brave little fucker. Just as he’s bracing himself to speak, so am I, to listen. There’s apparently going to be a very hard truth coming my way.

“It was something that I remembered much later… Actually, as you know, I was in New York when all of my memories resurfaced. I believe Alex told you that I called him, panicked out of my mind the night they did. Anyway, I remembered Chris’ threat the week before the event. I didn’t tell Mom and Debbie the real reason I didn’t want to go; just brushed off the fact that they thought it was a 'rite of passage' for graduating seniors, regardless of who they fucked.”

“Do you wish now that you had gone with your first mind?”

I can see him really weighing his answer carefully. I had described my own feelings about my regrets in not following through with my initial thoughts. But to know that even before regaining his memories, he couldn’t somehow blame me for what happened to him… I just don’t know how he can fully absolve my part in it. I was older, and knew that the world was not built on ideals. But for one moment, I didn’t want to be the one to shatter his dreams. And if I’m honest, I didn’t want to shatter my own of being able to dance with him; of being his Prince Charming for the night.

“I’m torn on how to answer that,” he says softly. “On the one hand, I don’t regret a single moment of the time I got to dance with you, the moment I got to kiss you in front of everyone; the moment you declared me as YOURS in the middle of the whitebred suburb that I was born into. I remember their faces, Brian. Some were truly happy for us. They were mesmerized and envious in the very best way- hoping that someday they could find what we did for that brief moment in time. But yes, I regret going against the warning Chris had given me. Perhaps if I wasn’t just trying to handle it on my own, perhaps if I’d said something, then maybe it wouldn’t have happened and the passion and promise I saw in your eyes as you spun me around on the dancefloor wouldn’t have had to wait several years to become more than a hope, a wish, and a prayer."

"But on the flipside of that, perhaps you and I wouldn't have been in a position to accomplish all we have during and after we took down Stockwell. Maybe we would have imploded long before then?" I say to him.

"Maybe you're right in all that you are saying, Brian. Which leads us back to the necessary evil that was the Ethan episode." Justin shrugs. “If that era of our lives taught me one thing, it’s that I could survive without you there to hold my hand every second of every day.”

“But you don’t want to…” I state, hoping that is the case.

“No, I don’t. But there were other lessons I had to learn that had little or nothing to do with you.”

“Such as?”

“The standard reiteration of lessons about living within a budget.” He stops and smiles at me, obviously remembering our many arguments about coupons before he goes on. “But the major lesson I needed to learn was about trusting in myself, and learning to depend solely on me. I remembered you telling me that, back when you were thinking about making the permanent move to New York upon Adam Lyon’s recommendation. In my teenage mind that just wanted Brian Kinney to be my boyfriend, I couldn’t understand it. But when the realization hit, after I recovered my memories, I understood something else about your words, even if you didn’t exactly mean them that way at the time.”

“What’s that?”

“That you and I were NEVER going to be boyfriends. If anything at all, we were always going to be PARTNERS. I didn’t understand the difference between the two terms at the time. In fact, I didn’t really get that particular concept until I started living with Ethan.”

I smile at his reasoning then. “The fact is that even blond-haired, blue-eyed, and naive to the point of being innocence personified, you were never a boy to me, Justin. I may have joked around about your youth, or imparted life lessons to you as I would have if I had a son…” I can’t help but choke up a little at the mere thought of Gus, but clearing my throat, I go on. “But there was always a maturity and an intelligence about you that was more mature than men more than twice your age. So no… the mere term ‘boyfriend’ would have been doing you a disservice in my world, and undervaluing what you were really becoming. In my definition, boyfriends are only temporary, but partners… well, they’re forever.”

Justin’s eyes are diamond-bright with tears, hearing me finally tell him what he needed to know about why I always balked at the term of endearment so often thrown around without thought or care. In truth, people switch boyfriends or girlfriends more than some people change their underwear. Did I ever imagine that I would have a partner? Not really. Unlike most, it was never my life’s goal to be in a relationship with anyone for more than one night, if at all.

But with Justin, the simplistic term would have never fit this complex man. As I’ve said, Justin is endgame material. So when he came upon my horizon, I balked and ran like the Hounds of Hell were after me, because in truth, Justin saw me. Not the me that Michael keeps telling everyone he knows. But the me that manages to hide in plain sight of everyone else… well, except where Justin was concerned.

“So let me ask you this, Sunshine? Why Ethan? It’s something I’ve never asked you. And even though you said that it was because he was willing to do the things I wouldn’t, I don’t think that’s the only reason.”

“He was easy to get to know.”

“How so?”

“He was interested in me. Now that I think about it, he’s like you in that he likes beautiful things. And at the time, Brian, that’s exactly what I was… a thing. You said it when you mentioned that I was a shell of my pre-bashing self. He was so emotional that I knew he could fill the void for both of us. He was like recess on the playground, you know? I didn’t have to feel anything. I could just go through the motions, be a boyfriend and an automatic provider in order to keep food in his place and the lights or heat on. As long as he didn’t ask for what I didn’t have- what I couldn’t give- I could do those things for him without batting an eyelash.”

“But he did ask, didn’t he? I mean, he did give you a ring to wear and all.”

“The ring wasn’t anything but him trying to prove something to both you and to me… but mainly to you, Brian.”

“And that was?”

“That he was willing to give me the things you couldn’t, or more accurately, wouldn’t. He wanted you to let me go completely. In retrospect, that’s what I think. You see, Ethan is a lot like Michael in that they are very territorial. In a sense, they are emotional hoarders.”

“Emotional hoarders,” I repeat slowly, not quite grasping where he’s going with that statement.

He nods. “They take the things you say, and then change them to fit their own narrative about what’s best for you. So, even though I was technically void of emotion when dealing with people, it wasn’t hard to discern my anger and sadness, or my confusion at why we were falling apart, even though I knew I was the cause of most of it. I couldn’t figure out how to get myself back to the person you knew before everything happened. In Ethan’s mind, it didn’t matter who I was before, but who I was then. To him I was like a debutante to be molded into what he wanted…”

“His eternal groupie?”

“Yes. I was basically his most-prized possession. It’s why he had such issues with me continuing to attend school on your dime. He wanted to laud to everyone how beautiful and talented I was, as long as no one else could see it, unless it was by his choosing, like his pretentious college buddies. It’s the same thing that Michael does with you. Unless it’s for his benefit, you’re not supposed to step out of his well-ordered existence. As soon as you do, he invents these… dramas.”

“But by your own admission, you did the same for a time.”

“It’s why I can see it for what it is, was, and will be.” He sighs. “Is there anything else you want to ask me?”

“Why me?”

“Why not you?” Justin retorts with a smile.

“You know what I mean.”

“So it’s not flattery you’re after? The ever-present ode to your fabulousness?”

“Justin…”

“Okay. Okay, no more secrets.”

“So?”

“It was that I saw you and couldn’t look away.”

“A lot of men have that reaction.”

“Do you want me to answer or not?” He raises his right eyebrow at me.

“I want you to answer.”

He tilts his head to the side for a moment, before he answers. “It was because somehow I knew that you would take care of me.”

“Even though you didn’t know me?”

“Even then, Brian. I can’t explain it exactly except to say that your eyes… well something within them touched a place inside me that I didn't know existed until that moment. I just knew that I could trust you.”

“And do you still see that when you look at me?”

“In some things. But…”

“But?”

“Brian, just like that night, I know that you wouldn’t intentionally hurt me…”

“But I have still hurt you all the same.”

“Just as I’ve done to you. All we can do is clean up this mess we’re in, and find a way to move forward. So do you still take me for your partner in all things?”

“I never stopped, Sunshine,” I tell him as I cross over to where he’s now standing before the terrace doors. 

Without a moment’s hesitation, I lean down to kiss the lips that mine always miss when they’re not attached to his. He returns it in equal fervor, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, and teasing it with his tongue. As our kiss continues, I know beyond doubt that our way forward is sealed now. Yes, we still have some things to talk about and address, but this… this right here is all that matters. Our trust and faith in each other is being renewed in the way we have always communicated best: through taste, and touch, and tangled tongues, and entwined limbs; it’s just us and our way. 

I detach my lips from his briefly to look into the eyes of the man who has changed me in ways I never thought possible. There is so much I want to say to him at this moment, but can’t find the words. But I don’t need to right now, because the same feelings that are coursing through me, are displayed in his eyes as they are in mine. Finality and Relief. This is the beginning of our forever.

Justin immediately catches on to my hesitation, and takes the initiative by loosening my shirt first. As he allows his hands to travel over me, I’m reminded of his touch that first night. It was tentative but arousing all the same. I can see he understands that as well, as he smiles up at me before recapturing my lips in a kiss far more torrid than the one before. I want to do everything I did to him on that first night, but that wouldn’t be appropriate. Justin isn’t the virgin he was all those years ago. Nor is what we did on our second new beginning. Although our emotions were all over the place then, like they are now, our relationship has grown and matured so much since then. So, I think it’s once again time for a new script.

I snatch the reigns from him, controlling the temperature of the kiss. Although it’s still hot as fuck, I dial it down from incendiary to sensual. I want to slow this down for several reasons. The first is because the last two times we had sex we fucked and fucked HARD, and Justin was in control both times. Normally that would not be considered a bad thing, but it was the situations surrounding us having sex in those moments that continue to be bothersome to me. 

As for the second reason, it’s simple. I want to take my time with him; want to make sure that he really hears me when I actually make love to him this time. My mind keeps focusing on the song he was listening to while writing his letter to me. Patti LaBelle has a way of painting a picture with her voice, that just makes it easier to pull the feelings from deep within. It reminds me of what Justin does to me- or I should say did to me, before everything went to hell for us. He had this way of mending me, even when I didn’t realize anything was broken within. And that’s what I want to do for him right now.

Since we’re already by the terrace doors, I usher him outside, never letting go of his lips. Then I lie him down on the sofa, and proceed to undress him. When he’s finally the way I love to see him the most, without a stitch of clothing hiding his body from my sight, blond hair shining in the sun, and blue eyes to rival the sea roaring softly in the background, only then do I really begin. I bend down to capture his lips again, relishing the soft moan that escapes him at the contact. It’s a sound of both pain and pleasure being released.

As I continue my assault on his lips, I divest myself of the rest of my clothes. If nothing else, I need to feel his skin against mine. It’s one of the things I’ve missed in the most indescribable ways. As I lower myself onto him again, he gasps, even as I sigh in relief. Most would have been thinking we’d been fucking like bunnies since we got to this island, but the reality is that we’ve barely been able to touch each other in this way. 

It somehow felt like a violation to linger beyond getting our mutual needs met. Even while sleeping, Justin and I have been keeping our distance from each other. We’ve either been avoiding the bed entirely, by opting to sleep on the sofa, or making full use of the king-sized bed to sleep on the farthest ends of it as possible without falling off. Our lives, that were once a paradise to the both of us, had become a warzone in every way that means. It was time to restore us back to being Brian and Justin Taylor-Kinney.

So with that in mind, I bury my face into his neck, inhaling his scent which I have missed so much. I can feel his hand creeping up my back, just before his hand settles into my hair. Just the feeling of his fingers on my scalp brings me such peace and arousal at the same time. I slide my tongue up his neck, hearing the soft sigh escape him at the initial contact, followed by the small hiccup when it finds the erogenous zone located right behind his left ear. I don’t have to see him to know that his eyes have closed, and that his lips are now slightly parted. I’ve always loved that he was always so responsive. 

As I continue, he moans my name softly, and I’m tempted to respond with his in the same tone. But I’m determined that by the time we have finished, I will have claimed every inch of him for my own again. So, moving to the other side of his neck, I give his pulse point there the same attention I gave its left counterpart. The fingers of his hand tighten ever so slightly in my hair, holding me to him, even as he begins squirming beneath me. 

“Stay still,” I command softly, before returning my attention to his neck.

“Can’t. Been too long since…”

“I know, Sunshine. Let me have you. Please Justin, let me…”

I look into his eyes, expecting to see defiance. If there is one thing Justin has never been, it’s a passive lover. In fact, that’s one of the things about him that kept me coming back to him for more in the early days. Even as inexperienced as he was, he was a veritable energizer fucking bunny when it came to getting both him and me off. I would never in a million years tell him, but there were nights when he would just about fuck me to sleep. He’s always been a natural at topping from the bottom, and some nights I had to work extra hard just to keep up. But today, this is my show, and there will be none of that. There will not be any reckless riding today until we’re both at the point of no return!

I see the exact moment he catches that particular memo, and he stills, giving me the permission I needed. So resuming, I begin again, which I know frustrates him. I can tell by the momentary stiffness before the sensation of my lips takes ahold of him again. I spend untold minutes making love to his neck, before moving down his torso to stop at his nipples. Yes, I know exactly how to play Justin’s body to elicit the most erotic sounds from him. 

It’s my own secret vice, to hear them emitting from him, knowing that no one else can get him to this point. He may grunt and groan when he’s fucking others, but his body sings for me… and ONLY me. I tease one of the pointed nubs while sucking on the other, stopping every so often when he humps his pelvis into mine, bringing our cocks together. On any other day, I might have given in to his fervent wish to be fucked by now. But this isn’t strictly about instant gratification; it’s about reconnection. 

I stop teasing him long enough for him to calm down, but I don’t stop touching him. I want to keep him present with me throughout all of this. And I know that part of his anxiousness right now is steeped in fear… of the unknown, of allowing himself to be vulnerable to me again… of a host of other ghosts, both known and unknown to me. I need him to remember who we are together, and to forget all the other shit just for a little while. When he’s finally calm again, I continue where I left off. 

After a while, I move on to his inner-thighs, bypassing his waving cock altogether. I suck to the point where I leave a mark. It’s the one thing I’ve very rarely ever done to him. But fuck if I wasn’t going to brand him today. I want it so that when he walks, he knows who he’s coming back to. Unsurprisingly, Justin tangles his fingers in my hair, even as he reaches for his cock with the other hand. I slap his hand away before leaving marks all up and down his thighs. Looking down at my handiwork, I grin impishly up at him, loving the look of unfulfilled lust in his eyes. His eyes have dilated so much that they almost look black as they regard me. 

Just as he’s about to either order me or scold me, I silence him with a brief kiss, before placing his legs over my shoulders. I don’t allow him to catch his breath from his shock of being manhandled before I bend him in half, exposing the little knot to my own version of paradise to my view. Wasting no time I bend, licking a wide strip over his balls, down the seam of his perineum, straight to that little winking star my tongue craves beyond all reason at this moment. Perhaps it’s that I miss his tastes, I miss the intoxicating pheromones that tell me it’s Justin’s ass that I’m about to kiss in every way that could possibly mean. Or maybe it’s the gasping moan I savor that comes from him every time I begin to open him up this way. Holding him steady, I dive in to make a meal out of him, even as I look up to see him locking his ankles behind his head to give me full, unfettered access. Every since he found out what rimming is, it’s been his one guilty pleasure that he only shares with me. Just the thought of that makes me moan, while another of those erotic sounds from him sings for me. 

Finally I can’t wait any longer, so I start to prep him in earnest. Looking for my pants, I notice the small basket by the sofa for the first time. I swear they have thought of everything, because in it is condoms, lube, and even some packaged toys, should Justin and I ever decide to use them. Maybe some other time, but right now, Justin’s going to cum from my dick alone. Lifting the pump of lube out, I add some to my fingers before allowing them to join the fray alongside my tongue, which is already dancing in and out of him. It’s about to get dirty and raw, and Justin knows it from the feel of his grip in my hair. I look up to watch as his other hand begins tweaking his left nipple in time with the thrust of my tongue and fingers. The sight of him doing that just revs up this scene back from sensual to incendiary within seconds. Donning the condom, even as I keep up my ministrations, I thrust, adding a third finger, causing him to gasp and beg. 

“Brian… please…”

I love to see him this way… almost desperate for my cock, but still so much in control. It adds that much more to my pleasure to watch him come undone. My blond has a filthy mouth when that happens, and I can’t help but look forward to hearing it again. In anticipation of just that, I launch myself up from my completely bent position to one half standing, while pulling his folded body into me. Checking once more to make sure he’s stretched enough, I enter paradise. I close my eyes as his tightness engulfs me, knowing that this is mine again… all mine! I don’t give five fucks and a damn what happens when Justin is away from me, it’s enough for me to know that it’s my dick that belongs to him, just as his ass belongs to me, and vice versa. 

With that thought in mind, I pump into him, slowly at first, and then with an increasing tempo. As soon as he gets used to the rhythm, I rotate my hips into his, making sure to pass his prostate twice before I withdraw a little only to dive right back in. Fuck! He’s right there with me, too. And then he does some kind of fucking contraction that makes him even tighter, wrenching sounds from me that I never knew I could make. 

Seeing his sly grin and then hearing him tell me to fuck him harder; to remind him why he chooses me to be HIS top, I grab ahold of each of his ankles to give myself a bit more leverage to power thrust into him. It’s gone from incendiary now to reckless, and fuck if I don’t love it! But that’s the magic of me and Justin. It doesn’t matter what position we’re in or who’s fucking whom, there’s just something explosive that happens when we come together. I feel the tell-tale tingling at the base of my spine, but I’m determined that Justin’s going to get off before I do. 

After putting two of my fingers into his mouth for him to suck, I apply them to join the nipple he’s already ruthlessly tormenting. His gasp just before humping up into me tells me that his orgasm isn’t long in coming either. I squeeze it, adding just that little stimulation of pain, causing a mild scream before doing it again. Justin then reaches up, gripping the back of my head, bringing our lips together in a hard and torrid kiss before he pants into my mouth that he’s close. Spurring me to redouble my efforts, I reach down to palm his cock to help him along, but he shakes his head no; says that he just wants my cock to do the work. 

Seeing him straining to reach his apex, I know exactly what he needs. I order him to get my fingers soaking wet again, before I remove them from between his plush lips. Then I add them alongside my dick inside him. It hurts a bit, but it’s just what he needed to reach that elusive crest he was searching for. Hearing the keening cry coming from him sparks my own tribute to pour from me into the condom. 

I have to shake the wayward thought of wishing this was raw from my head, realizing that as long as mine and Justin’s careers are on the track they are, it isn’t even a possibility. It would surprise most that it’s not the first time I’d thought that in recent years. But the brief times Justin and I spoke about the idea of monogamy, he just said that he would never want to put that kind of pressure on us until we were absolutely sure. I’ll admit that it’s part of the reason for my own insecurities sometimes, but that’s a conversation for another time. Burying my face into his neck, I kiss his sweat-soaked skin, even as I feel the tears leaking from him slide into my ear.

“What’s wrong, Sunshine?” I ask, sitting up, looking into those diamond-bright eyes yet again. Instead of being filled with lust, or apprehension, they’re filled with… fear? Relief?

“Nothing…”

“Don’t lie. What are you afraid of?”

“We’ll talk about it some other time, Brian. Not now. Just know that I’m happy that we’re talking again, and that we seem to be getting out of the warzone our lives have become over these last few years.”

“But…”

“No buts, Stud. When I’m ready to talk about it, don’t worry, we will… I’ll even write you another letter about it.”

And the smile he bestows on me puts me instantly at ease. Sure there are things- so MANY things- to work out between us. But just knowing that he and I are finally willing to do the work to keep us together… well let’s just say that I’m happy, too. And if I have my way, we’ll both stay that way.