Finding Home: Halos and Heroes, Bk 1 - 22. Chapter 22

The farther backward you can look, the farther forward you can see.

—Winston Churchill

 

FAMILY TIME, the kind pictured in movies and TV shows where people are gathered around a table playing board games with loved ones, wasn’t something that happened in our house very often when I was a kid. In our defense, Connor, our mother and me couldn’t really let our guards down long enough to even go and find the two games we actually had hidden in the top shelf of the coat closet—Sorry and Monopoly. Waiting for that inevitable moment when things went from sugar to shit in an instant, made letting yourself breath a precious commodity I usually couldn't afford. Not back then when I was too young and small to fight back, and not in the military where I had the height and bulk, but also a new sense of discipline because not being on point a hundred percent of the time was a really bad thing.

I’d grown out of the acceptable age to play board games without a team under the age of eighteen a long time ago, but as an adult with two nieces who loved game nights, I was allowed to revisit the past with more compassion for myself and my mother than I’d had before my life had been rebooted by Connor’s death.

One thing I did remember enjoying in rare, quiet moments alone with my mother when she was alive, was working on puzzles with her. She’d loved the huge, complicated ones and we always grabbed them at yard sales when we could find them. We’d once spent two days putting together a 3,000-piece, teddy bear picnic puzzle, only to discover that we were missing half of the bears. At ten-years-old, I’d been pissed off but my mother had just laughed and said that figuring out the lost pieces was part of the adventure and made for good memories. I hadn’t been sold on that idea at the time, but as I got older and spent most of my teenage years, and then my adult life trying to solve the puzzling mysteries that I encountered in every aspect of my world, I began to appreciate my mother’s words for the tokens of wisdom that they were.

When our lives are broken, the journey to put them back together isn't as simple as just trying to figure out the lost pieces of an imperfect garage sale puzzle. We don’t have a box photo to reference, and the process goes far beyond matching colors and shapes, or randomly guessing where something might be missing. In the real world, where things are so much more complicated than even a master chess game, strategy’s important. All of your pieces need to be laid out first, then arranged as best as you can so their connections to one another can slowly be established, usually in triage fashion by creating small groupings that will eventually be linked to each other. Only after you map out the frame, can you start building up the individual portions you've figured out to start filling in some of the blanks.

It’s never a quick fix and it’s definitely not easy. But I was determined to make the most of the second chance I’d been given, so it was a puzzle that I was going to solve, no matter how long it took me to track down every piece that I’d need to complete it.

My renewed relationship with my family had been solidified into one clear section. Intensive one-to-one therapy sessions twice a week with my therapist, plus another two times a week at the place Andrew Whelan had directed me to, were slowly giving me a sense of permanence that formed a second section. The part-time job I'd started almost three months ago at a local auto body shop until I could start tech school in the fall, became a third.

Unlike when I’d first moved back to Florida and was just living here, now I was actually creating a life. A real one, not the unstable facade I'd been stumbling through since landing in the airport. My feet had a clearer course now, and my steps were steadier, guiding me towards becoming the kind of man who was more than a sum of his parts. A man that I was a lot prouder of than the one who’d earned so many military commendations. They felt pale in comparison to things like the #1 Uncle mug Emma had given me, or the fact that Adelyn had finally taken me up on the occasional trip to the movie theater—just the two of us—when there was something worth watching.

But stability comes at a cost. As the ridiculously complicated puzzle of my life became more defined, it drew attention to the pieces that were missing from it. More specifically, one piece.

Ben.

I'd tried to forget him after I’d attempted to get him back and failed because he’d wanted no part of it. I couldn’t hold it against him though. This was all my fault, not his. I couldn’t blame him and if anyone else had, I’d have popped them in the mouth and ruined some of the progress that I’d made with learning how to control my temper and processing my emotions before reacting.

I didn’t blame Ben, but I missed him with every breath that I took. I wasn’t sure if that would ever fade, especially considering that I’d carried a torch for Max for almost two decades and our relationship had been missing the levels of depth and emotion that I’d experienced with Ben.

Trying to forget Ben by keeping myself busy was all I could do, but so far, diddly squat was the only thing I’d accomplished. The unfortunate, universal face of life was that if it were easy to walk away from someone, there wouldn't be a slew of broken hearts lining the sidewalks of the world. That didn’t mean that I’d stopped hoping that one day when our paths crossed again like I was sure they would since he was part of my family’s life even if he hadn’t been over during the last four months, I wanted to at least look like a man deserving of him, even if he didn’t want to see my face.

His face though, was one that I saw every time I booted up my phone because I’d made it my wallpaper. Anytime I unlocked the screen, I’d see the selfie Ben and I had taken the day we'd gone with my family to the beach. I'd cropped it so only Ben's smiling face filled the screen, his hazel eyes bright, smile warm and loving. Every single time without fail, I’d have to struggle for a solid length of time to keep my thumb from pulling up the dial screen. And each time, the screen eventually went dark because I didn't hit send. Tonight was turning out to be more of the same.

I rubbed one hand over my face as I leaned back heavily into the couch. To momentarily distract myself, I looked down to where Emma had her head on my lap. The soft, even sound of her breathing said she was asleep, leaving Addie and me to finish the Disney movie she'd chosen on Netflix while Sofia was at work. Like Ben had forewarned, my account was now all Disney princesses, with some Doc McStuffins thrown in. I didn't mind McStuffins because the vet for stuffed-animals storyline was cute, but the syrupy sweetness and light of round the clock Disney was making even telenovelas sound good. But I couldn't tell Ben he'd been right about that, or any of the other things he’d said—like me being able to exhale once I allowed myself to remember that all human being needed oxygen—because my damn finger wouldn't hit send.

"You should call him," Adelyn said, startling me. I'd almost forgotten that she was sitting on the couch with Emma and me, wearing lightweight black leggings and what looked suspiciously like my Star Wars T-shirt. She was fresh faced, her hair tucked on top of her head in a lazy top-knot. She rolled her eyes when I shook my head, then put the cell face down on the coffee table.

"It's complicated, Addie."

She snorted and reached for the bowl of movie-butter popcorn on the coffee table. "Uncle Sam, you and me are complicated, and we're figuring it out."

I didn't bother hiding my smile. "I know, but this is a special kind of complicated that I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Especially not you, so staying away from boys except your gay best friend, is a fantastic idea.”

Adelyn smirked. “You know that Cayden has friends who aren’t gay, right?”

“I absolutely do but if you don’t want me to go on a homicidal spree, try and keep that reminder to yourself.”

Adelyn snickered as she popped a handful of popcorn into her mouth, miraculously getting every single fluffy kernel in.

I hesitated for a moment, not wanting to ask, but I did anyway. Hell, I’d put the cell phone down so I was allowed this much. “How has he been?"

She shrugged. "I’m not sure. I haven't gone to the youth group meetings for over a month, but I think he’s okay. Tara would probably know better.”

I nodded. She wasn’t wrong. Tara and I still went running almost every morning as long as she didn’t have early clients, but Ben was the one subject that was off limits even though we talked about everything else. I was sure that she would’ve told me how Ben was doing if I’d asked, but after I’d told her how he’d turned me down flat the day that I’d gone to see him, I’d put a Teflon lock on any possibility of discussion about our failed relationship. But where one door closed, another usually opens. In this case, it’d been forming an even stronger bond with Tara who I considered her another sister at this point. And for a man who’d started out with almost no family, the explosion of my inner circle was as amazing as it was terrifying—a new fucking world order.

“I kinda prefer hanging out here lately," Adelyn continued, drawing my attention back to her. I arched an eyebrow but she didn’t look at me until I gently tugged on a strand of her hair, instinctively knowing after all this time, exactly which one would tumble the whole thing down out of its careless knot into loose waves over her shoulders. She shrieked then tried to incinerate me with a teenage version of Sofia’s hairy eyeball.

“Not cool, Uncle Sam.”

"Sorry." Not sorry. “It was just too tempting.”

“You’re such a nerd,” She huffed a sound of exasperation as she gathered that thick mass up again, secured it with a clip, then twisted just out of my reach. She stuck her bare toes against my jean-clad thigh for another few inches of space.

I grinned knowingly and her lips twitched as she rolled her eyes again.

"ANYWAY... I think you should try talking to Father Ben again. The center is hosting a fall formal in two weeks and he's probably going to be a chaperone. Tara is. Mami wanted to be, but that was a hard negative because parents at dances are weird, and it’s a father-daughter thing anyway…" She hesitated for a few seconds before she looked up at me almost timidly through long lashes as her slim fingers opened and closed on her slim thighs for a few moments in an obvious fidget.

My brow quirked again, but I didn’t have to tug on her hair because she loosened it to herself like she wanted to hide behind the thick strands that could be used as a silky curtain if she wanted to. Instead, I ran a finger lightly underneath the line of her bare, purple polished toes. "What's the matter, sweetheart?"

She worried her lower lip between her teeth. "Like I said… the dance, is a father-daughter thing. I mean, not everyone has a dad, so some people are going with their grandfathers, brothers... uncles.."

I was still getting used to my new more relaxed and affectionate relationship with Adelyn. We had more good days than bad now, though there were still some ups and downs, especially when she came home from a rough therapy session of her own. But she’d started singing and song-writing again, and had even let me see a few of them before they were finished. We were rebuilding, as well as creating something different and stronger than what we’d had before when she was twelve—another puzzle chunk that was slowly forming with more defined clarity. But even with all the progress we’d made, being invited to such a public function made an obvious statement and it was surprising enough to momentarily silence me as my mind tried to catch up to the unexpected plot twist we suddenly had going on. Unfortunately, Addie took my silence as a rejection.

I saw it in her eyes a moment before she shrugged and mumbled, “Never mind… it was a stupid thought... You look so much like dad anyway that it would probably be weird and—”

I cut her off by tugging her half into my lap by a slender ankle so I could hug her hard. She eeped, then began to squirm, complaining I was squishing the stuffing out of her.

Grinning like a fool, I held onto her for a few more seconds. Going from days of derision to a dance date was a big jump but it was a father-daughter dance...

"I'm all in, Addie," I said when I released my hold so I could see her face and tuck her hair behind her ears before she could.

Her eyes narrowed, but her body language instantly relaxed. "I technically didn't ask you yet."

Little shit. I kept grinning because yeah, nothing could wipe it off short of a meteor explosion. "So, you want a do-over?"

She ignored me but I could see the blush creeping up her cheekbones. “Nerd… Anyway, everyone is dressing up. Suits and stuff but I thought maybe..." She tucked her hair behind her ears herself this time, her lips quirking into a small smile, the shyness back around the edges of it. "Maybe you can wear your uniform? The nice one? "

"My dress blues?"

"Yeah. Is that okay? "

I hadn't worn my uniform since Connor's funeral, but Adelyn looked both self-conscious and hopeful, so I nodded without any hesitation. Her smile was worth any possible anxiety about donning my uniform again. Blues were for ceremony not comfort anyway because they were hot and itchy as hell. I’d just consider this a practice run if in the future, Addie asked me to wear them when I eventually walked her down the aisle when she got married. My last memories in that uniform had been from Connor’s funeral, so it was time to make new ones.

All in.

"Thanks, Uncle Sam. Now go try and talk to Father Ben, or at least confirm with Tara that he’s going to be there so you can get your, ‘I was stupid and I’m sorry, so please take me back because I’m miserably mopey without you,’ speech ready.”

She giggled and scooted away when I swatted playfully at her with one hand, careful not to jostle a still sleeping Emma. “It’ll be sooo awkward at the dance if you guys just stand there staring at each other, so just suck it up.”

"Ok...Bossy, just like your mama."

She grinned, then leaned in to hug me. I dropped a kiss to the top of her head before carefully maneuvering Emma off of my lap and onto the couch to let her keep dancing with the sugar plums in her head, while Adelyn figured out how to survive the Disney characters belting out spunky lyrics on her own.

For the last four months I’d been recycling variations of the same daily mantra- that Ben was better off without me in his life, with someone else. That he’d made a very clear choice and didn’t want me to fight for him. That I had to have it a hundred percent together before I could even consider fighting for him. The list went on and on.

It was all crap. Excuses my brain made because I didn’t know what to do to fix things between me, and the man who’d taken possession of my heart and kept it with him, even when he’d walked away.

I’d fought for my country most of my adult life, and my family for the better part of this past year, yet I didn’t know how to even begin fighting for Ben. At least not in a way that might actually make a difference. I might be getting better at moving forward, but I was well aware both from talking with my therapist, and members of my veterans support group, that even when my PTSD seemed to go the way of the dinosaurs, it could always pop up again at unexpected moments like a Jurassic Park revival. I could learn to manage it, but there was no cure to truly fix all the broken pieces. I was always going to be walking around with metaphorical duct tape making a bastardized kintsugi of my body, mind and soul. But, like Addie had pointed out, even with all that being true and our relationship being so complicated, we were still figuring it out. If she could invite me to be her plus one for a father-daughter dance, then I could suck it up like a proper fucking buttercup and fight like hell for the man I wanted more than I’d ever wanted anything else in my life. I might not deserve Ben yet, but I was sure as hell going to try because I'd never left a puzzle unfinished before. Engaging in the fight of my life couldn't possibly be harder than surviving a Disney marathon, could it?.

* * *

I ended up not calling Ben that night because aside from there being a high likelihood that he’d either send the call straight to voicemail, or hang up before I got two words out, a phone call didn’t seem to be the all in, balls out energy that I needed to make my intentions clear-that I was willing to wait for him, to fight for him, to prove to him that I understood where I’d gone wrong, and that I was ready to fix it however he needed me to. With that mantra in mind, I’d gotten dressed the next evening in jeans and a burgundy t-shirt of his that said ‘Amen’ on it—it’d somehow gotten mixed up in my clothing, probably when I’d been going back and forth between his place and Sofia’s. It didn’t smell like him anymore, but I was hoping that maybe it had some miraculous properties that would get me at least a few minutes of face-to-face time.

I’d gotten halfway to Ben’s house before I realized that it was Thursday night. Knowing that he'd be at the community center for the weekly support group meeting he hosted, I turned around and headed there instead. I knew that meeting him in such a public place, surrounded by his people was risky, especially if any of them had seen him after he’d gotten out of the hospital, and knew that I was the reason for all that pain. It didn’t matter though. Even if they came after me with fucking pitchforks, I needed to say my piece. Maybe Tara would hold them back long enough to let Ben hear me out.

By the time I pulled into the parking lot, a hearty chunk of my chutzpah had disappeared, leaving me a mass of raw nerves. But Addie was right about awkward possibilities if the first time Ben and I saw each other after all these months was at a kid’s fall formal, so I needed to get my ass in gear. Heartbreak only happened when you gave a shit. Giving a shit meant being willing to fight, so that was what I was going to do even if my heart was hiding around my goddamn knees while I did it.

When I walked into the room, the meeting seemed like it was just getting started. People were still milling around the room, pulling over chairs to gather in the circle around the center chair that Ben had sat in the last time I'd been here. I didn’t make eye contact with anyone else, my purpose clear as I made a beeline for the chair. I got halfway there before the dishwater blonde blocking my way moved and gave me a direct line of sight to Ben’s chair.

The chair that Tara was currently sitting in.

She had her head turned away from me, speaking to another woman about our age. That megawatt smile dimmed when she turned in my direction, not from anger, but in surprise that mirrored mine as her blue eyes widened. She was obviously wondering what the hell I was doing here. I didn’t blame her since I was suddenly slammed with the same thought as I cast a quick glance around and didn’t see Ben anywhere in our immediate vicinity.

I did catch Cayden’s gaze briefly. He shot me a questioning look but I ignored it for now as I turned back to Tara, my focus as single-minded as a kid who was lusting after a candy jar.

We’d gone running this morning like usual but I hadn’t told her my intentions of showing up here. I hadn’t wanted her to feel like she was stuck in the middle between Ben and I and had to pick a side. Looking at her now as she stared back at me in silence, I wondered if that’d been the right move.

I exhaled when she set down the small notebook she was holding, then gestured me over with a wave of her hand. I settled beside her on the seat she patted, trying to ignore the curious faces turning my way. It seemed I'd made as much of an impression on the group as it had on me the last time I'd been here. At least I was hoping that was the case. No one looked hostile, so I was assuming that none of them knew what had gone down between Ben and I. That in and of itself was a small miracle unexpectedly working in my favor.

"Sam… what are you doing here?"

The surprise in Tara’s eyes had moved into her voice, along with a gentle, concerned note that perfectly matched the softness of her hand on my arm. Both should've lessened the tension riding me, but the longer we sat there with no sign of Ben, the more anxiety built at the back of my throat. Part of it was fear of confronting him here in front of so many people, but the rest was just a jumble of emotions that I couldn’t even begin to sort until I actually saw him.

I forced a slow exhale but knew Tara could feel the subtle vibration in my arm when she ran her hand soothingly down my shoulder.

"I came to see Ben," I said. "I know he probably doesn't want to talk to me, especially not after the last time but he and I need to talk, Tara. He can tell me to go fuck myself, or even set the mob on me but I need to see him and tell him that if he’s willing to try, I’m willing to fight for him I like I should’ve from the first time I realized that my life before I met him was just a series of steps that put one foot in front of the other without any clear destination. He’s my final destination. Ben’s my fucking heart, and he needs to know that.”

Tara's expression softened with sympathy, likely because that was probably more heartfelt than anything else that’d ever come out of my mouth in front of her before.

"Oh, Sam… I wish…” She sighed when I looked at her questioningly. “I'm sorry honey, but he's not here."

"I thought he ran groups every Tuesday and Thursday. Today’s Thursday."

"It is,” she agreed with another squeeze to my arm. “But Ben's in Cuba visiting his sister."

"The sister that had the baby? Catherine right?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Ben sent me a photo of the baby via text. He's precious."

"That's good. I know he wanted to see them.” I exhaled slowly. My plan was beginning to crumble but I could still salvage it. Maybe having a little more time before I actually saw him would help solidify my arguments as to why I deserved a second chance. Why we deserved a second chance. “When’s he coming home? Adelyn said that he’s supposed to be chaperoning the fall formal in two weeks."

Tara sighed again, then moved her hand from my arm to me knee. "He was supposed to be, but I don’t know if that’s his plan anymore. He left about a month after you went to his place. He called me that night to tell me that he’d booked a one-way flight to Cuba because he wasn’t sure when he’d be coming back.”

Panic licked down my spine, my heart now around my ankles as Tara added, “I speak to him once a week, but he won’t give me a solid answer about whether or not he plans to be here in time for the dance. I told him the kids would be disappointed, but he’s in a dark place, Sam. I’ve never seen him so hurt.”

I had no right to be angry, but I could hear the heat in my tone when my voice got loud enough to direct questioning looks our way. "You didn't think that was something I should know?"

“Hey, slow down there Sparky. I’m not the enemy here so get it together.”

I sighed. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Tara nodded, mollified as she leaned back in her chair to study my expression. "Ben asked me not to say anything and as much as I love you, he's my friend too. You quit on him at the hospital, Sam. Fear makes us do stupid shit so I get why you felt you had to bail but I still had to pick up the pieces when you left with Max. "

"You know that I didn't sleep with Max."

“Of course I know that. You’re occasionally an emotional dummy, but you’re not a liar or a cheater. Max also called me himself to let me know he let you go, so there’s that.”

That last bit of information surprised me. I blinked but Tara didn’t give me a chance to ask any of the million questions now floating in my mind. “And I know you told Ben that too but sometimes perception matters more than reality. You broke Ben's heart when you left him alone in the hospital. That was a bitch-slap worthy of one of those Victorian romance novel chicks."

"It wasn't like that..." But it was. And even though I’d explained all of this to Ben already, it didn’t erase the fact that I'd fucked up.

I pinched the bridge of my nose hard as a sudden thought occurred to me. "Did Sofia know he was leaving?"

"Yes," she admitted. "We both knew. Ben told us the same day." She sighed when I knuckled my eyes, feeling the strain in my face, then whapped me gently on the shoulder with her little notebook to get my attention again. "Look, maybe we should've said something but you've never even asked me how Ben was doing and we see one another almost every morning."

“I didn’t know what to say, Tara. I tried to talk to him months ago, you know that. But after he shut me down I guess I thought I needed to have every one of my ducks in a goddamn row before I even considered trying again. That doesn’t mean he hasn’t been on my mind every damn day."

Tara slid to her feet, tugging me up and over to a quieter corner with her where we could talk without being overheard. "I understand that, Sam. You’ve had one of the most severe cases of emotional constipation that I’ve ever experienced since our first date at the diner. But you’ve always been a good man. Ben knows that too. He just…he’s trying to process. His heart’s broken.”

“So’s mine….”

“I know sweetie. I'm just trying to support my two besties as well as I can." She raised her hands helplessly. "It kills me to see you guys like this, but I have to respect the choices he makes. Unfortunately, one of those choices was to get some space from you until he can decide what he wants going forward.”

“Did he say anything about moving forward with me?”

“No,” she admitted. Her expression was filled with so much regret that I wanted to hit the wall just so I could feel something other than her extreme empathy.

“When you talk to him again, can you at least tell him that I was looking for him?"

"I could," she nodded. "But I'm not going to."

"Why not?"

She ignored my indignation, going into full-on shrink mode. When she crossed her slim arms across her chest, bangle bracelets jingling in disgruntled symphony, I felt about four-inches tall despite the fact she was looking up at me because she was wearing flip-flops.

"Why did you come here today Sam?"

"I wanted to talk to Ben."

"Why?"

"I told you why."

She nodded but didn't back off from the heat in my tone. "You did, but I’m asking why you chose today, and here of all places. This is his turf, Sam, but you still came here to try and work things out. That takes balls, my friend. Huge balls, the size of which I haven't seen on you in a while, so I want to know what's changed.”

My entire body ached with defensive tension and my throat felt rough when I cleared it, trying to work through my panic the way my therapist was teaching me. “My head’s been shrunk by you and enough other people that I’m finally starting to see the goddamn light. I’m not a hundred percent yet by any means. I never will be, but even at maybe seventy percent, I know that without Ben, my life is only going to be half lived….”

Tara nodded then said, “Don't even think about it," when I looked over her head at the door. She popped me gently in the arm with the little notebook again. “Despite your other motivations, the fact remains that you came here on a group night, and we're all here. If you want to really prove to both yourself and me that you're serious about dealing with your shit and moving forward like you have been even if Ben isn’t here, stay."

I swallowed hard as I looked around the room, finding a few faces I remembered from the last time I'd been here what felt like a lifetime ago. When I met Cayden’s eyes again, he pushed a chair in my direction with one sneakered foot, tatted arms crossed across his chest as that pierced eyebrow rose in silent challenge. If anyone other than Tara knew even the Cliff Notes version of what’d happened between Ben and I, it was Cayden. He and Adelyn had gotten close over the past few months so I had no delusions that she hadn’t told him as much as she herself knew. Everyone needed someone to vent to. I trusted Cayden to care about and protect my niece, so that meant he got to be on the inner circle with a front row seat to the good, bad, and occasionally really ugly. Fortunately, he didn’t look angry. He was just challenging me like a proper teenage smartass.

Tara patted me on the back lightly before she took her own seat again. No one said anything as I considered my options. I knew I'd be allowed to walk out of here without opening up if that was what I chose. None of these people considered themselves judge or jury, and I’d done it before. I could do it again.

And that would send you backwards, not forward. You need to prove intent to yourself before you can prove it to Ben. Man up, Sam.

The chair creaked beneath my weight when I settled into it beside Cayden. The gentle sound of his dog tags rattling on their chain when he played with them, reminded me of who still had mine if he hadn’t tossed them into the sea from a beach somewhere in Cuba. I’d never asked Tara about them, and I didn’t allow myself to linger on their whereabouts now because I needed my head fully in the game for this.

I exhaled slowly. I'd come here for Ben, to show him I’d changed—to prove I was strong enough to fight and take on whatever was thrown our way. Not because it was easy, or a reflex like it’d been with Max. I’d come here with my metaphorical gloves laced up and ready to go.

For him.

No one else had to hear my story tonight but that didn't mean I didn't need to tell it, or that my ass shouldn't stay right where it was. I’d opened up to my therapist twice a week for the last four months, and to the men and women who shared demons like mine in the veteran’s group. Talking about the fucktastic turns my life had taken was becoming second nature, yet doing it in front of people who were important to Ben, was a completely different ballgame. These were people who he mattered to and if any of them disapproved, that would mean something to me even if it didn’t to him. It was time to put up, not shut up. So, when it came my turn to share, I started talking. I kept talking until my throat was sore and every single one of my ghosts stood in that room with me—past, present, and future, the latter filled with fears of what-ifs.

Past and present lingered with defiance until I exhaled slowly. With my final words, they stepped off, and finally left room in the future for maybe.

***

Hell is yourself and the only redemption is when a person puts himself aside to feel deeply for another person.

—Tennessee Williams

"Sam?"

Sofia's soft tone asked for permission to enter when her reflection appeared in the mirror over my bedroom dresser. I waved her in with one hand before I went back to the fight I'd picked with my tie. As of the last fifteen minutes, it was winning in a landslide. Sofia blessedly lessened the chances of my strangulation by gently nudging my hands away so that she could loop the end through and adjust the knot with practiced precision. Though I felt like I'd failed A Guide to Being a Man 101, I was grateful for her help. I knew how to do a traditional tie loop, but doing it while under pressure not to embarrass my teenage niece, was apparently a no-go. I hated wearing the damn things anyway, but it was a requirement with my dress blues and Adelyn had asked for them specifically, so I wasn’t about to let her down.

Sofia smiled up at me as if she sensed my anxiety, her face scrubbed free of makeup since she’d gotten home from work a few hours ago, and had showered and changed into loose gray lounge pants and a T-shirt that had to be one of A.J.’s since it was camo green and came down to her hips in a loose tent effect. He was currently back in Alabama handling some business meetings, but if the shirt was here, he’d be back sooner than later.

"Addie’s looking forward to this more than you know, Sam. She always wanted to go with Connor to these types of things, but even when he was home, he never really made time for her. Not like you used to, or like you do now." She smiled—warm and so open that I leaned over and impulsively popped a kiss to the top of her head.

"I love that she asked me. She's just going to regret it the moment we get out on that dance floor and she sees my version of the electric slide."

Sofia smiled as she continued fluffing my tie. "You'll be fine. She's as nervous as you are. She's been curling the same piece of hair for ten minutes."

"I get curls? Jesus Christ, I feel like I'm going to my prom all over again. Which I went to with you, Max and Connor as a group. I’ve never been on an actual date before, much less one with a girl. For obvious reasons."

Sofia laughed. "Tara will be there to save you if you start to drown. She's a good dancer."

I grinned as she stepped into that one without even realizing it. "I'm sure she is. I’ve heard tequila makes a girl’s clothes fall o—"

I gagged as Sofia smiled up at me sweetly at the same time that she pulled the ends of the tie through the loop hard enough to tell what color my tongue was. “It was really good tequila, Sam. Remember that.”

“Yes ma’am.”

I kept all further commentary to myself as Sofia finished her adjustments to my neck-noose, then moved on to remove the lint from my jacket. She paused when her hand touched the ribbons and badges pinned to my uniform, lingering over the Silver Star. I'd worn it the day it'd been pinned to my chest the week after Tate, Connor, Devlin and I we were rescued from Afghanistan, but I'd deliberately left it off at Connor's funeral. I hadn't wanted to have anyone congratulate me for being a hero at that point, but if that's what Addie wanted me to be, I'd try my damndest to be hers.

"You're a good man Sam. You deserve to be happy. Please promise me that you'll always try to remember that. We’re your home and you’re ours."

I just nodded with a rueful quirk to my lips. Sofia smiled then whistled impressively low—a trick A.J. must’ve taught her— before chuckling.

"Wow, that was easier than I thought. Let's try another one while we're on a roll here, hermano de mi corazón."

"Brother of your heart?” It was my turn to whistle. “You’re bringing out the big guns now. What’s going on?”

She whapped me in the shoulder a little less gently than she would’ve a few weeks ago before she’d started taking kick-boxing classes with Tara. "I want you to be happy, which translates to wanting you to figure out a way to get to Cuba.”

“Cuba is closed to American tourism Sofia, and I don’t have nearly enough information on how to jump through the circus of hoops to get there any of the complicated legal ways.”

“Then call him after the dance and tell him you want him to come back. Book him the flight yourself if you have to. Just find a way to bring him home."

I sighed, my anxiety over my tie and Addie’s curls forgotten in an immediate wave of emotional fatigue. "Sofia I can't."

"Why not? I know I probably should’ve told you when he first left, but you both needed some time to figure things out. You’re doing so much better now, and I know you still love him.”

“Of course, I still love him. And I’m not angry with you. You’re loyal to Ben just like you’re loyal to me, and that’s how it should be. I was an ass so I get why he needed space.”

Sofia’s expression softened. “People can only have so much space before it needs to be filled, Sam. It’s been months since you've seen each other and you're miserable. He probably is too."

"If I thought it would make a difference, I’d find a way to get to him but he's with his family right now, and seeing as Catherine is the only part of it who’ll talk to him, he deserves the sanctity of that time alone with her. Especially with a new baby. His focus should be on them and his own happiness for a while, whatever that means for him."

"I think what he deserves is you," Sofia said with a shrug. "But that's just my two cents." She straightened my lapels, then gave me one last pat. "There. You look very handsome. Addie's going to have to keep you close if she doesn't want one of those little girls trying to fly their freak flag with you tonight. Don’t drink the punch."

My shudder just encouraged her laughter at my expense. The lilting sound followed me into the closet as I tried to find my dress shoes. When I emerged triumphant a few minutes later after digging them out from behind some boxes of off-season clothing, Sofia was sitting on my bed holding a small box on her lap. Her laughter had been traded for a small smile that faltered slightly at the edges when she held the box out to me.

It looked ordinary enough—a simple wooden square of polished dark wood—most likely walnut. It was smoothly polished with no outer adornment, hinges or other hardware that would suggest a bomb, or other destructive device, yet she was looking down at the box like it might bite her.

"I've been waiting for the right time to give these to you, but there never seems to be one." Her expression softened, eyes large and soft like pools of melted chocolate. "Connor had so many flaws but he was your brother, and I know you loved him just like I did."

When I didn't automatically take the box, Sofia stood up and gently pushed it into my hands. It felt surprisingly light, like all the weight came from the actual box and not from whatever was inside. When I shook it, the distinctive metallic rattle told me exactly what was in there.

Sofia brushed her lips across my cheek after our eyes met and held for a long moment. "Do what you want with them. That chapter of our lives is closed for us. You need to figure out how to close it for yourself."

I hesitated. She’d been right about how hard it could be to find the right time to tell someone things that were so important they needed to be aired out, even though the flip side of that coin could be complete emotional annihilation. Up to now, I still hadn’t told her about Connor and Devlin because she was happy and moving forward with her life. With A.J. With dressing her age, and kick-boxing with Tara. She’d even started painting again. Bringing up Connor’s mistakes seemed wrong but shed opened this door and I didn’t want it to close with secrets kept on my side.

“Sofia…” I started then paused before exhaling slowly. “You asked me once about Connor and what he did to me that was part of why I stopped coming home… Do you still want to know?” I swallowed hard, but kept my gaze on hers. “I’ll tell you everything if you want to know, but it won’t change anything. Connor made mistakes and he hurt me. Mostly by making me believe I couldn’t be part of your lives because of the PTSD. I was scared shitless that I’d hurt you or the girls,” I said quietly, my fingers curling tightly into the edges of the box till my knuckles whitened. “There’s more but it was his damage and had nothing to do with you. You don’t deserve to doubt yourself because he was stupid.”

There was a long pause before Sofia put her arms around me, hugging me as hard as her slim form was capable of. “I know he was gay, Sam” she murmured against my ear, Keeping the hug tight when I stiffened in her embrace.

I was sure my face was broadcasting my confusion like a news network because she offered a slight smile as she tucked her hair behind her ear when she pulled back to see my face. “A.J. told me,” she clarified. “Don’t be angry with him. I asked him because I wanted to know if whatever had happened between you and Connor had anything to do with your PTSD because if it was, I wanted to know so I could help you in any way I could. I didn’t want you to ever feel like you had to leave again because we couldn’t support you.” She paused, then exhaled softly. “The truth is that I always suspected he’d had an affair… I didn’t know it was with a man of course but Connor always needed to live a life that was fast and chaotic, so sleeping around and getting his thrills that way made sense. That’s why I started making him wear a condom towards the end of our marriage. He assumed it was because I didn’t want to get pregnant again but I was just trying to be safe.”

“Sofia, I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you.”

“You didn’t tell me because you loved me enough to want to protect me. A.J. told me because he cares enough not to lie to me.” She smiled gently. "I’m not upset, Sam. We’re all moving on like we should. “ Her hand curled gently along the edge of my jaw. “Don’t leave us again, and everything will be all right. Whatever comes our way in the future, we handle it as a family. Okay?”

The lump in my throat made it difficult to respond, but after so many years, she could read the book of Sam. Rising on her toes, she brushed a kiss against my cheek. “I'm going to help Adelyn. I love you."

“I love you too.”

She smiled and the moment I was alone with Connor's dog tags spilled out into my hands, my throat clamped up tighter. Made to withstand intense blasts, the tags had survived when Connor hadn't. They were a little reminder about the fragility of human life. I stared at the tags for a long minute, scratching my fingernail over Connor's name. They didn't belong in the house anymore, but I couldn't bring myself to throw them in the trash either. After every step I’d made towards starting over, rousing the anger to do something like that would be self-defeating and I didn't want to give my brother that much power over me anymore.

Instead, I tucked the tags into the back pocket of my slacks until I could think of a better solution for their disposal. Then I made my way over to the laptop I'd borrowed from Sofia when I’d started job hunting. Apprehension rippled down my spine, telling me how stupid this was as I Googled flights from Cuba back to Florida. There was one that left at midnight, but I hesitated. Not because of the price— which was astronomical considering how short the flight between countries was—but because if I did this, it’d be the most impulsive moment of my life and I didn’t do impulsive. Not normally, but if there was ever a moment to pick up a new habit, this was it.

My finger hovered over the accept button but before I could decide what to do, Emma bounced into the room in her Strawberry Shortcake pajamas to announce that Adelyn was ready for her closeup. I closed the laptop but brought up the information on my phone and saved it just in case impulsivity became stupidity, and I decided to follow Sofia’s advice.

When Emma and I walked into the hallway, flashes of light immediately blinded me, putting Hollywood paparazzi to shame. Sofia and her camera were a lethal combination, but I was grateful for her sudden transition to shutterbug because half blinded, I could pretend that the short, glittery gold number that picked up the blonde highlights in Adelyn's newly salon lightened, honey brown hair, and the tan skin below it—a lot of tan skin—was just the result of one too many flashes to the face. My growled commentary that her dress was too short to be appropriate for a church-sponsored function—let alone one attended by minors— was ignored. The threat of getting my gun was just met with boos and jokes at my expense.

Adelyn was happy to torture me though the at-home photo-shoot. She posed like a media darling, popping the occasional bunny ears behind my head when I scowled at that damn dress. By the time Sofia's camera began a stuttering protest of its own with a full memory card, I felt like I’d have to add a fear of photo flashes to the causes for my PTSD.

The moment her back was turned, I bribed Emma with a ten-dollar bill and the promise of a night of Pixar movies this weekend if she distracted Sofia while Adelyn and I snuck out before their mother could find a back-up memory card.

My niece’s laughter carried over to me as I helped her up into the side of my SUV to make our getaway, careful to keep the ridiculously high heels of her strappy sandals from getting caught when she stepped up. Adelyn chattered all the way to the community center, absently playing with the corsage I'd given her when we'd first gotten settled in the car. I'd been worried she'd consider the delicate arrangement of pale-yellow roses a hokey gesture, but her unexpected delight had been worth the embarrassment of my earlier interaction with the florist who'd looked at me with the kind of suspicion reserved for terrorists when I'd asked for something to impress a teenage girl. Trying to explain that Adelyn was my niece had only arched her painted-on eyebrows higher. I'd watched the front door the entire time she'd been in the back room getting the corsage ready, convinced that the cops were already on their way to arrest me for fraternization with a minor. But I'd made it out of there without any charges placed except the one to my credit card, so I’d considered it a good day until that damn dress had made its debut.

I quirked a brow when Adelyn abruptly turned toward me when we parked in the community lot, placing a slender hand with nails polished a deeper burnished gold than her dress, on my arm.

"Wait," she said. I watched, confused as she carefully removed one of the roses from the bunch. She grinned at me, then handed it to me to hold while she removed two bobby pins from her hair which she used to attach the rose to my lapel. That small gesture of public acceptance was worth anything the world could throw at me, and I hugged her hard until she complained about my love of smushing her.

I hit the key fob to lock the car doors after we got out, and Adelyn slid her hand through my arm when I offered it. Her heels clacked as we walked up the steps and into the main room of the community center where the dance was being held. It was cheerfully decorated with what looked like hundreds of strands of small white Christmas lights, and the timelessly cheesy streamers, and dimly rosy mood lighting that I remembered from my own prom.

We got a few looks when we entered but I swallowed down my self-conscious discomfort when several people thanked me for my service before Adelyn dragged me along to the infamous punch bowl table. Thankfully, she grabbed a bottle of water from the bowl filled with ice and more water bottles instead of taking the pink punch for a test drive. With so many adults around I doubted that it was spiked, but teenagers were inventive little fuckers when they wanted to be.

Addie handed a bottle to me as well, and I immediately twisted off the cap opened so I could sip it slowly as a way to discreetly get my body temperature down—a trick that my therapist had taught me to use when my anxiety began to peak, signaling the potential for a panic attack.

After draining the bottle of water and casting a few looks around the room to figure out all the exits in case of any emergencies, I felt my blood pressure dropping. Especially after noticing that the hemline of Adelyn's dress was practically puritan compared to others in the room. Apparently what passed for teenage formal wear had changed from when I was a kid, but the behavior hadn't. When a group of girls descended like a swarm of giggling locusts, I let them drag Adelyn off with my blessing. A night turned out in my uniform was tough enough without adding screeching female voices discussing lipstick, fashion, and boys that I couldn’t shoot to keep their eyes on my niece’s face instead of the parts I didn’t even want to think about.

While the kids giggled and bounced around with an exuberance that smelled like overly sweet perfume, and sounded like too-mature stilettos, the adults stayed in a loosely formed semi-circle by the punch bowl making small talk. Occasionally, one of the girls would come by to steal her father for a dance. The female chaperones all oohed and aahed while those of us with dicks cringed, wondering who would be the next to fall victim to one of the poppy musical numbers. My turn on the chopping block came during a slow dance, thank God.

Adelyn was tall enough in her heels to keep me from having to bend in half, and we moved easily around the dance floor thanks to Vera’s teachings when I was younger. We glided around for about half the song before I saw Addie’s smile widen, her glossy pink lips a perfect frame for showcasing every bright tooth in her mouth as she looked at something over my shoulder.

Worrying about who I might have to shoot kept me from registering the male voice right away but I recognized the scent of cinnamon and woods long before an elegantly fingered, warm hand settled on my spine with the familiarity of a man who knew he had the right to place it there, without any fear of me reacting in a way that would’ve left him with a broken wrist. I hadn’t expected to ever feel that subtly possessive touch again, so for a moment I froze like Bambi in front of a Buick, even though I didn’t move away from the hand.

"May I cut in?"

My pulse jumped into my throat as Adelyn released my hand, reaching around for Ben's instead so she could place it on my shoulder, effectively swapping places with him. She grinned and flashed me the thumbs up sign with much more confidence than I felt, before she scurried away into another pow-wow of pink and sparkles.

For a moment I was tempted to follow despite my new disgust for all things sparkly and pink because the threat to my ears and eyes was suddenly a more appealing option than forcing my gaze to meet Ben's.

The complete neutrality in his beautiful hazel eyes punched up my low-level anxiety a solid ten notches when our gazes me. We stared at one another in silence and even though he'd been the one to cut in, Ben seemed to be waiting for me to make the first move.

In my dress blues I couldn’t easily slide my hands into my pockets, so I had to settle for keeping them loosely at my sides and trying like hell not to fidget as my gaze swept him for a moment With the same desperate urgency as a man lost in the desert had when he was finally offered water.

Ben was dressed in a cream-colored linen suit that highlighted the fact that his naturally bronzed skin was a few shades darker from time spend in a tropical climate. His dark hair was styled but hadn’t seen a cut in a while, so the curl in it was more defined. He looked lean and solid. The only real physical change in his appearance was the notable absence of his usual 5 o’clock shadow. His skin was now even smoother than mine before I’d decided to keep the goatee he’d initially defined. His hazel eyes though… those were cooler than I’d ever seen them, with a hint of detachment, as if he wasn’t completely sold on his choosing to be here tonight.

When he didn’t say anything, I took the biggest leap of faith I could manage right now— which was probably more like a one-foot step—over the invisible line between us. "I thought you were in Cuba with your family."

"I flew in this morning."

Ben's voice was as carefully composed as his expression but I could feel the tension in his lean body when he pulled me in close to him, the proximity forcing my right hand to his shoulder, and the left into the one he moved off of my shoulder to lace our fingers together. His cheek brushed mine when he encircled my body with his free arm. The smooth skin along his jaw felt foreign, but his scent was still so familiar that I wanted to rub my face into the warmth of his neck.

I resisted the temptation.

Barely.

"It's nice you came back in time for the dance… The kids are having a great time."

My tone was stupidly casual considering the knot of ice that’d killed off every butterfly in my belly like a harsh winter wind when Ben didn't provide any kind of emotional response even though he was holding me too closely for this to look like anything other than a lover’s embrace.

I couldn't really blame him. Beside the fact that we hadn’t seen one another in months, I'd always been lousy with words. ‘Here lies Samuel Trammell, the most un-eloquent motherfucker on the planet’ needed to be engraved on my headstone when I finally bit it one day.

Getting on my knees and asking for forgiveness would've been easier than navigating through the tension between us but we were attracting enough speculative looks as it was. Though Ben wasn't closeted, anyone with eyes could read the room and feel the layer of chilliness that was keeping us from truly relaxing to the slow, romantic music. I also wasn't sure how accepting people were around here. But when I shifted to move us off the dance floor, Ben’s hand on my waist immediately tightened. I got the hint and gave a brief, almost imperceptible nod to acknowledge I understood.

I wasn’t getting the hell out of dodge anytime soon.

"I didn't come back for the dance, Sam," Ben said holding my gaze until my heart thumped hard against my ribs at the intensity in his eyes. "Tara called last night and told me what you did at the group on Thursday."

I tensed, then nodded slightly. I’d gone back the following Tuesday and Thursday as well, but if Tara had called him, he probably knew that already. “I did…”

"I know you’re not a fan of therapy but she said you opened up and let a roomful of strangers into your world that night. Is that true?"

"Yeah,” I said with another slight nod.

“Why?”

“I wanted to see you. I didn’t realize you were in Cuba."

"True, but I wasn't there and you still stayed and told your story. So, I'm asking you again. Why?"

My throat felt rough as I cleared it. "Because I went for you, but realized I needed to stay for me. I had to get it all out, Ben. I’ve been seeing a therapist twice a week for the past four months as well as going to that group Whelan told me about. But everyone at the community center group is one of your people. To make things right with you, even if you weren’t there, I needed to make things right with them.” I paused to exhale slowly to a silent count of eight to steady myself. “You were right when you said all this anger and resentment was poisoning me. I knew I needed to let it go in order to move on. With or without you. I would’ve preferred it to be with you but either way, I needed to let go.”

Ben watched me silently, giving me the impression he was waiting for the rest that was lodged in my throat.

"Can we talk outside? I…I said a lot of what I wanted to that night when I went to your house…” The night that you told me it wouldn’t work between us because I take off when things get tough. “But there are other things I still need to say and…if on some level you didn’t want to hear them… I doubt you’d have shown up tonight.”

I was taking a risk with that last part, but when Ben didn’t tell me to go fuck myself, I let myself take a breath. “Look Ben, there are things I still need to say to you, but this isn't the most appropriate place. Too many eyes," I said gesturing to the curious faces around us. “And the song’s over anyway.”

Ben glanced around as if just noticing our less-than-discreet audience. Lovers in the middle of romantic turmoil always attracted attention, no matter what their gender preferences were, and the stiffness between us was palpable even though Ben was still holding me in his arms.

After a long beat, Ben nodded, then let me go. He didn’t put a hand on my back this time as we walked to the door. There were a lot of people milling all around the steps—

mostly adults who’d temporarily absconded from the teenage driven festivities—so we ended up in the parking lot, standing under the street lamps that illuminated Ben's reserved expression more clearly.

Without a script to follow, and no encouragement from him, I felt like the arc in the middle of the storm that’d rocked Noah's world and made him roommates with a goddamn zoo. Right now, I'd gladly have taken those forty days and nights with things that could eat me over this silence that was devouring my heart.

My throat tightened and my hands felt clammy when I rubbed them together just to give them something to do. "You shaved..." It was a lame opening to a necessary conversation, but it was all I had right now.

"I needed a change. You said you wanted to talk. I’m here now, so talk.”

"I know that I screwed up at the hospital," I said getting right to the point without preamble since Ben’s tone told me he didn't have any patience for long buildups tonight. "Like I said before, leaving the way I did with Max, was the stupidest thing I've ever done in my life and you were right when you said I'd regret it. There hasn't been a day that's passed that I haven't. But I swear to God and every other celestial being up there with him, that nothing happened between Max and me. Max isn't the one I want as a lover or a partner anymore, and he hasn’t been for a very long time. Since the moment I told you that I trust you, that I love you, there’s been no one else who I could imagine being by my side.” My gaze scanned Ben’s face briefly, but I got nothing. Not even a blip of recognition that I was pouring my heart out here. “I didn’t bail at the hospital because I didn’t want to be with you. I was just scared shitless about hurting you or my family again and I handled it poorly. Running away from things I can’t beat up or kill was my MO for most of my life as a kid, and it just carried over to the military in some ways. Maladjustment at its finest.”

My lips quirked slightly though I could feel the tension tightening my spine like a steel road was shoved up the entire length. “That’s my therapist’s favorite word by the way. Guess ‘emo’ isn’t professional.” When Ben didn’t even try to crack a smile, I exhaled deeply. “Ben, Max has been there for me since we were fourteen. He’s seen all the good, bad and ugly, so he’s familiar. There’s comfort in familiarity, especially when your world is spiraling. But…there isn’t room for growth in situations like that. And I want to grow. I’m trying to with one-to-one therapy twice a week, and two days at Whelan’s group. I also do family therapy with Sofia and Adelyn bi-weekly and that’s going pretty well most of the time. It’s tough dredging up the painful bits, but I think we’re a stronger unit now.” I paused, knowing I’d said a variation of most of this already to him that night at his place, but with him watching my face intently, it seemed prudent to repeat it. Maybe if I repeated everything often enough, I get through that invisible, impenetrable armor he was wrapped in.

“I started a new job at a local auto shop and start tech school in the fall. Tara and I run every morning and sometimes Whelan and I have coffee when he doesn’t work a morning shift. I’m trying to expand my circle like you told me, but…without you to complete it, it’s a semi-circle at best.”

I paused again, then added quietly. “I didn’t know you were in Cuba until I went to the group that night looking for you."

"Would you have come after me earlier if you'd known?"

"Considering there’s an embargo preventing American tourism, probably not. Being arrested in international waters probably wouldn’t help the whole moving forward thing.”

I got the slightest quirk of Ben’s lips as a reward for my soft snort.

“But…” I inhaled deeply, letting it go slowly only when my lungs felt ready to burst. This was the longest confession I’d ever made to anyone in my life, and there had never been more for me to lose if this all went sideways again. “I planned to call you tonight and say as much of this as you might let me get out, provided you didn’t hang up on me. And then I planned to send you a one-way ticket back to Florida so you could come home.”

To me.

My voice was pitched so low, I was afraid he wouldn’t hear it, but the slightest softening of Ben’s expression eased some of the ache in my knees from having them locked tight to keep me still. He still wasn’t saying much though, so even that minor shift in his demeanor wasn’t a clear indicator of whether or not I was actually getting through to him. I’d almost have preferred a volatile reaction. Having him yell at me would've hurt me less than this polite distance.

Say something, Ben. Anything. Just please say something.

But he didn’t, so I kept going even though I was beginning to feel like a broken record. “Ever since I came back to Florida, I've been trying to make amends. For myself, for Connor...for everything we screwed up." I forced myself to continue, though the words were sticking in my throat now because I was starting to lose hope that Ben’s being here actually meant that he wanted to try again.

"When you told me that you believed God had a plan for all of us, I didn't want to hear it because I couldn't understand how so much pain could lead to something better. But after we split up, I looked back at each part of my life and realized that as disjointed as everything seemed at first, there was always a plan."

"And what was that?"

I kept it as simple and as honest as I could. At this point, I’d used up all my deeper speeches. "To find my home in you."

I'd anticipated Ben's silence. I didn't expect him to reach up to the collar of his dress shirt and pull out my dog tags. The metal gleamed under the street lamp when he presented them still on the original chain they’d been looped through when I’d given them to him that night at Deseos.

My knees immediately went weak.

He still has them. I was right.

It was torture to stand there, waiting to see if he’d hand them back to me. When they remained around his neck, I released another noisy breath.

"Do you know why I went back to Cuba, Sam?" Ben asked quietly.

"To see Catherine and the baby."

"Yes, but I also needed to get away from you."

I'd guessed as much so the truth shouldn't have stung the way that it did, but my jaw still twitched when I tried to hide the hurt. "I deserve that." I swiped a hand through my hair, ruining the gelled line it’d previously been styled into. "And I don't blame you. After what happened—"

"Sam, I didn't leave because you hurt me," Ben said, cutting me off. "It was an accident and bruises heal. I left because you made me doubt myself. I questioned God's plan for me after you walked away at the hospital. I felt like maybe He was trying to tell me I'd misread all the signs I'd thought meant we were supposed to be together."

I'd thought that Ben’s neutrality had been difficult to handle, but it was the genuine sorrow in his voice that made me drop my gaze to the ground in shame.

"My faith has been everything to me for years,” he continued. “Even when I was a prostitute and an exiled son, I still had Him. That reality comforted me during those days I felt deserted by everyone around me. It helped me handle my feelings of failure so I could start fresh. But when you walked out of that hospital room, my world dropped out from under me. I've never experienced a loss like that before, and it felt like He'd failed me by bringing you into my life, only to pull you out of it. I hated that I doubted God's plan, so I left to reevaluate everything that had always mattered to me."

"Ben, I'm so sorry. I never meant to—"

"Quiet, Sam. You’ve said enough. It’s my turn now."

I backed up when he moved forward, my spine making contact with the lamp post pole as Ben braced his hands on it, just beside my head on either side of my body, reminding me of the last time we'd stood like this on the porch of Maplewood when I’d been terrified and turned on at the same time. Right now, terror was the only tenant in my heart. Not because I was afraid of Ben, but because I knew how delicate the line we were standing on was—a razor thin wire above a sea of things that could destroy me.

“When you came back and tried to fix things between us, I should’ve listened to you because I knew you meant everything you said. But pride cometh before the fall,” he murmured. “I was hurt and so jealous that Max was able to be what you felt you needed, but couldn’t find in me.”

“Ben, that’s not what I was trying to—”

He shushed me with a look, then shook his head. “The point is that I was wrong to push you away when you came back. You swallowed your pride but mine was still choking me, and I reacted without thinking about how much that must’ve cost you. I jumped the gun and allowed all that resentment to blind me and make me believe that I wasn’t enough for you.”

I was speechless for a moment. Not only because I couldn’t fathom how he’d ever thought he wasn’t enough for me, when I’d been the epitome of a hot mess from the moment he’d scooped me off the floor of a bathroom stall, but because he was letting me see just how human he was.

Ben had always said that he was just a man beneath his collar, but he’d always been so open, forgiving, and even-keel, that anger and uncertainty had seemed like emotions he was incapable of.

He's human and flawed just like anyone else. You were the one who put him on a pedestal to make him off limits so it was easier for you to leave if you got stuck in your head and thought you’d never be enough for HIM. It’s time to let him off Sam.

Only I didn’t have a chance to put any of that into words because Ben started talking again.

“I was so angry with you, Sam. Angry that I might’ve misread what was between us. Furious that I was so jealous about Max and the fact that he could be what you needed that day when I couldn’t because I wasn’t physically strong enough yet to defend myself, or convince you that we could handle things together, just the two of us.” He was quiet for a moment, as if he was still coming to terms with that.

“But, do you know what I finally realized?" He paused, obviously wanting an answer. Unfortunately, I didn't trust my voice so I just shook my head. I didn't expect his expression to soften the way it did, as if he could read my mounting panic at the thought of this conversation ending with him walking away. "I realized that for once in my life, I didn't care if God had a plan for me or not. I wanted you, even after everything that happened between us. I was even defiant about it," he said with a crooked smile. "Dared Him to make me feel otherwise. And then, as if He’d just been waiting for me to swallow my pride and fight for what I wanted, regardless of the cost, Tara called and told me you'd gone to the group. I remembered then what your name means—that God has heard. He heard me, but you heard Him, too."

I swallowed hard when Ben’s fingertips reached out to brush my jaw just once before he let his hand fall away.

"You kept my tags..."

"You told me they were mine." Ben's voice was still calm, but I caught a hint of another, stronger, almost tender emotion beneath it now. One I'd never thought I'd be lucky enough to hear again. I wasn't forgiven yet, but the small break in the clouds gave me a glimpse into what things could be like when the storm settled so long as I didn't fuck it up right now.

"You also said my having them would force you to come get them. You're here now so the question is Sam, are you taking them back?"

All I had to do was say no, and he'd stay. I could see it in his eyes but I’d already said so much that my tongue chose that exact moment to stupidly glue itself to the roof of my mouth. My silence damned me and I watched Ben's expression change, shutting down. He started to turn away to head back toward the community center where I'd lose him to the sound of good times I'd never be a part of again if I didn't do something.

Ben glanced down at the hand that I curled around his forearm to stop him from taking another step. He opened his mouth to say something that probably wasn't very priestly considering that he’d finally let me see his perfect imperfection, but before he could get the words out, I'd unpinned the rose from my lapel and held it out to him.

I knew the moment he got the reference because his expression faded from anger into gentleness within a heartbeat. His thumb brushed the back of my hand briefly when he took the rose from me. He studied it for a long moment before pinning it to his own shirt. "I thought you'd never seen the show."

"I got the first two seasons on Netflix," I said, shrugging as I felt my cheeks heat. "The writing is crappy but—"

The flippant remark that’d been on my tongue died when I met Ben's eyes and saw the loving acceptance in them. I could stop right here and he'd consider it enough. There was no reason for me to peel myself open with some big cinematic confession. But I loved him.

"I watched the show because it made me think of you and what we could have someday... The rings, the commitment... the complete feeling of home I only find with you." As soon as I admitted that, the only things that really mattered, the rest just tumbled out in a waterfall of overdue admission. "I love you, Ben. You know that because I’ve said it before but I’ve never meant it more than I do now." I put my hand over my heart but even its weight couldn't stop the wild beat that’d kicked up the moment I’d started talking. "That's your spot now, whether tonight ends with us together or not. I know I hurt you. I can't take that back. I've made so many mistakes that my name should be cross-categorized in the dictionary between stupid and dumbass. But if you can forgive me enough to let me back in, I swear I'll spend the rest of my life working with you to make things right between us. Because you and me, as complicated as it might get sometimes, is all I need to be happy, and become a better man."

If Ben's mouth hadn’t stopped mine, I might've kept rambling for days. We still had so much to work out but none of that seemed to matter as he silenced me with kisses that were gentle but not chaste in the way they explored every inch of my mouth, and rekindled his claim on my heart and soul. The press of his lips to mine— tender but relentless—and the firm clutch of his arms around me like he'd never let me go, confirmed what I'd known from the beginning.

I belonged to him, and he belonged to me.

My back pressed hard into the pole again, my own hands sliding beneath the hem of his shirt beneath the linen jacket just to feel the warmth of his skin when Ben leaned into me, deepening that physical connection. He owned my heart and soul, but my body came free with the package.

Despite the fact that we were in relative line of sight of the community center’s front doors where we could be seen if anyone had to walk out to their car, I didn’t care. All that mattered to me right now was the man whose body molded into mine with palpable relief that I'd finally gotten my head out of my ass long enough to hear God, or whatever other deity was the guide for the lost who hadn’t realized they needed to be found until their missing piece found them.

"I love you, too, Sam." Ben ran his thumb along my jaw, his expression so gentle, as if he could read every one of my thoughts. "I know the way we met wasn't the hearts and flowers romance story you tell people. The circumstances sucked.” I laughed and he grinned before he retrieved my left hand which had joined my right on the flat planes of his abdomen. He interlaced our fingers, then pressed a kiss to my knuckles. “I know it won’t be easy, but as long as we’re honest with each other and keep talking, we can write the rest of our story together any way we want to. We'll consider this the beginning instead of the middle if you just walk beside me."

"I don't ever want to walk anywhere else," I said, surprised when my heart rate immediately slowed into the same steady rhythm as his, like they were intertwined on a physical level as well as an emotional one. "Merriam-Webster will have to find another poster boy for words categorizing the idiotic."

Ben smiled—that warm understanding expression that had made me feel safe and loved from the very beginning. When he leaned in to kiss me again, I was there to meet him. I don't know how long we stood there, trading kisses and softly spoken promises, but eventually people started filing out of the community center in their party finery, laughter carrying over to us on the breeze. I spotted Adelyn in the crowd, smiling up at Cayden who was actually wearing what looked like a black suit jacket over torn jeans, his hair a fiery halo where it was backlit by the center’s lights. I arched a brow at Ben and he grinned.

"I invited all the kids from Maplewood. Remember, he's gay."

"Yeah, I know but as Addie pointed out to me, he has friends who aren’t. Nineteen-year-old friends, or older, depending on who did his damn ink," I muttered.

Ben grinned. I side eyed Addie again but let it go when the solid warmth of Ben’s hand slid into mine. For now, Cayden and his miscreant cronies got to live because I had my own life to get back on track tonight now I finally had the final puzzle piece.

* * *

After the dance had cleared out, Adelyn had asked me if Cayden could drive her home. I’d reminded myself that he was gay a few times before I agreed with the disclaimer that if they didn’t go straight home, I’d have A.J. run background checks on every kid he knew. She’d grinned and Cayden, ever the smartass, had offered to write me a list of names and addresses. Reminding myself that he was nineteen was all that kept me from flipping him off.

Ben trusted Cayden and honestly, I did too because Addie had started opening up and trusting again, and I knew he’d played a part in that. So, after I gave them the speech about seatbelts and speed limits, I let them go.

"Will you go with me somewhere?" I asked Ben when the kids had gone home, and he'd finished making his goodbyes to all of the parents who’d milled around a little after the dance ended to help clean up. He hadn't let go of my hand the entire time, making it clear he'd been serious about walking together from now on. I was okay with it because I needed that reassurance more than ever tonight. Now that his piece had completed my puzzle, there was just one more thing I had to do, and I didn’t want to do it alone.

Ben's eyebrow arched in curiosity but he nodded and followed me until we reached the parking lot. I hated having to separate from him even temporarily but after this was done, I was staying the night. As soon as we got to a place where we felt it was right, I was moving in with him, so less than an hour of driving to his house in different vehicles wouldn’t kill me.

"Can we meet me at your place?"

"Sure. Are you okay?"

I nodded. "I will be. Just meet me there. I'll be right behind you."

“Are you planning to stay the night?’

“If you’ll let me…yeah.”

Ben’s smile was warm and immediate. “You still have your drawer and your toothbrush. It’s clean, though I’ll admit I was tempted for a hot second to clean my toilet bowl with it.”

He laughed when I made a face, then leaned in for another kiss before he got into his car. I watched his taillights brighten then fade as he pulled out in front of me, heading toward the waterfront. Though a part of me immediately wished we'd taken one vehicle after all and just come back for mine tomorrow, we'd be together soon enough. In the meantime, the quiet gave me time to gather my thoughts.

I'd barely shuffled them into a meaningful pile when I finally pulled up to Ben's place. He'd arrived just before I did. By the time I'd parked and killed the engine, he’d moved to my side of the car to open my door once I unlocked it. I took his hand when it was offered, but redirected him towards the beach when he made an immediate move for the front steps of his house.

"There's something I need to do first,” I explained when I saw the puzzled look in his eyes. “I'd like you to come with me if that's okay."

His bemusement was obvious but Ben followed my lead anyway. He removed his dress shoes and socks, leaving them beside mine on the top of the sand dunes. Not once did he ask me why I'd dragged him to the beach in the middle of the night, or why I stopped right at the ocean's edge where the waves licked the edges of our toes in a chilly welcome. The fact he trusted me that much, reassured me that he was as much my friend as my lover and partner.

I reached into my back pocket to pull out Connor's dog tags, rolling them so that they clinked gently against one another. The chain dangled between my fingers and I knew that Ben recognized them for what they were, and what I planned to do when he brushed a gentle hand against my spine.

Warm. Supportive. Steady.

"You don't have to do this you know."

"Yeah I do," I said, never taking my eyes off his as I curled the chain up to enclose it completely within my fist. "I have to let Connor go. Being angry with him for the mistakes he made, for the ones we made together, keeps me from embracing a life worth living with the people I love."

That was true, but still easier said than done. My fingers tightened on the little pieces of metal as I looked out over the water. It was a clear night and the water reflected the inky black of the sky above. I watched the ripple of the waves for a moment, listening to their soothing rumble as they teased the shoreline, drawing farther away from it a little more each time as the tides changed.

They seemed to be waiting with open arms.

Ben's hand fell away from my back as I wound my arm back, then pitched the tags out into the dark. They broke the water's surface with a splash that barely registered over the rumble of acceptance from the rolling waves.

When those tags left my hand and washed out to whatever new place they'd eventually travel to within the chaotic unknown of the endless waters, I knew that Connor finally had what he wanted... my permission to tap out and find whatever would settle the restlessness in his heart on the other side.

I turned away from the ocean, suddenly feeling the need to tell Ben that the past had no hold on me anymore, and that we’d figure everything out now that my ghosts had been laid to rest. But when his hazel eyes met mine and his hand brushed my cheek before he pressed his forehead lightly against my own, I let the words go the same way I'd released Connor’s tags.

We didn’t need the words.

Our lips met in a gentle kiss and when we broke apart, I took Ben’s hand with a smile as we headed up the beach to gather our things so we could go home.

I'd show him instead.

Choose your adventures wisely, Connor. I've chosen mine.

*** FIN***