“I’m sorry,” Ben said. “I wish we could just be friends.”
“No, you don’t.” Tim smiled sadly. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Ben wanted to reach out to him, to hug him at least, but he didn’t even trust himself to do that anymore.
Tim took a deep breath. “You think we would have made it? Say we never had the cops chasing us that night, that we kept on going. Do you think we’d still be together today?”
Ben thought about it, but it was hard to imagine his life without Jace anymore and impossible to transpose Tim into all the memories he and Jace had made together. But for a moment, he could picture more nights of sneaking into Tim’s bedroom, the relief they would have felt when they moved away to college, and how those liberal years would have finally allowed them to be everything that he had once dreamt of.
Ben swallowed. “I have to go.”
“I don’t know what I’ll do without you, Benjamin. I don’t have anything left.”
“You do too.”
“Did I tell you that I came out to my parents?”
“No.” The lump wouldn’t leave Ben’s throat. Little by little, Tim had always tried to please him.
“Yeah. They weren’t thrilled. If they were distant before--” Tim shook his head.
“They’ll get over it,” Ben said. “And if they don’t, then they can fuck themselves.”
Tim smiled.
“Don’t go back to Ryan. You don’t need him. Or me. Or anyone else for that matter.”
“I’ve always needed you,” Tim disagreed.
“You might want us, but you don’t need us. You said I bring out the best in you, but all those wonderful things were already there, even before I came along. Live for yourself, Tim. Decorate the house with your paintings. Don’t hide them away. Don’t hide yourself away, either. There’s a whole world out there waiting to see you. The real you. You’re so beautiful, and I don’t just mean your face or your body.”
“Don’t go,” Tim pleaded.
Ben could only shake his head. If he said any more it would be too late for both of them. He turned and walked slowly to his car, grateful for and despairing every second that passed without Tim trying to stop him. Ben opened his car door and looked back to where Tim stood.
“Until next time?” Ben said.
Tim laughed. “Until next time.”
__________
Chapter 27
Jace padded into the kitchen, naked except for a pair of flannel boxers. He poured his ritual cup of coffee and walked to the bay windows as he had every morning since they bought their new house. Ben admired his body, affection welling up as he eyed Jace’s bed-head—hair sticking up in every direction. Four years of dating and two years of marriage, and Ben found him just as attractive as on that first date. He didn’t think that would ever fade, no matter how many decades went by.
Jace turned to him with a knowing expression. “I thought I wore you out last night?”
Ben smirked. “I slept well.”
Jace tried to grin in response but winced instead.
“Are you all right?”
“My head is killing me,” Jace said.
“You didn’t drink anything last night.”
“No, but I’m beginning to wish I had, especially if I’m going to have the hangover anyway.” He sat at the kitchen table and rubbed his temples. “Grab me a couple aspirin, would you?”
“Sure.”
His face was pale and drawn when Ben returned. “Maybe it was something you ate? Is your stomach okay? You could be coming down with a bug.”
Jace shook his head and tossed the aspirin into his mouth, chasing them down with a swig of coffee. The cup shook as he tried to return it to the table before his hand spasmed. The cup shattered on the linoleum, hot coffee splattering across the floor like blood at a crime scene.
“So clumsy,” Jace said, standing to fetch a towel. His legs buckled beneath him and he crumpled to the floor, the fear reflected in his eyes fading to emptiness.
Ben was at his side instantly, holding his head off the floor and launching a barrage of questions that went unanswered. He felt helpless, touching Jace’s face, feeling for fever, trying to find some way to help him. Jace remained unresponsive.
Ben called 911 and in his panic gave the operator their old address. He called back when he realized his mistake, fearing they would think him a prank caller and never come. Then he waited, switching between checking on Jace and running to the front door. What was taking so long? Didn’t they understand how serious this was? Couldn’t they get here sooner?
He ran to the driveway when he heard the sirens, his words rambling and confused, but he managed to point the paramedics in the right direction. Jace was unmoving when they collected him off the floor.
“Is he dead? Is he dead?” he chanted, but all the paramedics said was to stand back.
He barely had the presence of mind to shut the door as they left, praying Samson hadn’t escaped. Ben clambered into the ambulance, watching as they put a device over Jace’s mouth, a bag that the paramedic squeezed to keep him breathing. That was good. That meant he was alive.
* * * * *
“Aneurysm.”
The doctor had said much more than that, but this was the word Ben fixated on. He struggled to remember what it meant, something with the brain. A tumor? Or just a blip of electricity in the wrong place?
“His grandmother died from one,” Ben remembered. “Oh god, is he going to--”
“That he made it here alive is a promising sign,” the doctor assured him. “He has a five-hour surgery ahead of him. If he can pull through that, he has a good chance. I must warn you though, there could be complications. Are you family?”
“Yes.”
Every complication was listed on a piece of paper Ben was asked to sign. He barely scanned this list of nightmare possibilities. This was a choice between life and death. If Jace survived, they could deal with what sort of life he was left with.
Jace’s family arrived while he was still in surgery, which was a great relief to Ben. Finally he was with people who understood that the world was coming undone at the seams. That calm, unshakable Jace had fallen was impossible.
A nurse informed his family that Jace had suffered a class four cerebral aneurysm. They were able to explain to Ben what this meant. An aneurysm was a ballooned portion of blood vessel filled with blood. If left undetected it could rupture, causing bleeding in the brain. Once that happened there was only a fifty percent chance of survival.
Waiting for the results of the surgery was pure agony. Ben tried to imagine his life without Jace and couldn’t. He had been the center of Ben’s world for too many years now. Going on without him would be impossible. He’d rather die himself. How could anyone expect him to do otherwise?
Redemption came in the form of a very tired surgeon. He gave them a weary smile and the news that the surgery had been a success. Now it was up to Jace to recover.
The next four days were crucial, the high chance of fatality still looming over them. Ben maintained a constant vigil as Jace flitted in and out of consciousness. At times he didn’t know who Ben was, or he would say strange things, worrying once that Samson was going to be late to work. Their laughter at such times was frantic and short-lived. What if this is how he would behave from now on? What if Ben remained forgotten?
Equally worrying was the lack of movement on Jace’s left side. Among the constant warnings from doctors and nurses was the possibility of permanent paralysis on that side. When Jace began clapping on the fifth day, for reasons known only to him, the entire family cried with relief.