“Always.”
Graham was curious.
“Do you prefer being called Michael? I’ve noticed no one ever calls you D’Artangnan.”
He paused.
“Does it bother you when I use your real name?” he asked.
Michael sighed.
“Do you want the truth?” he asked. “Because I’m fine with living with it either way.”
Oh, well, that said it all.
He hated it.
“I always want the truth.”
He shared with Graham.
“Whenever I hear D’Artangnan, I’m reminded of us breaking up and me leaving. I tie it right to our lives before that. Back then, D’Artangnan was a different person. He made mistakes. I became Michael for a reason. It was wiping the slate clean. I had a fresh start.”
Graham understood.
“When I hear that name, I go back there. I don’t mind if you call me that. I mean, it’s my name. I just don’t use it anymore. When I made the biggest mistake of my life by walking out that door, he died that day. In time, maybe he can be resurrected—once I see that he’s back and has the man he loves by his side.”
Graham touched his cheek, and Michael turned his head to leave a kiss on his palm.
“Then, I’ll call you Michael,” he admitted.
He stopped him.
“You don’t have to.”
Graham did.
“This is the new us,” he said. “While we picked up where we left off, you’ve become someone else, and I want to get to know him too. If D’Artangnan hurts, then I’m not calling you that.”
Michael moved closer.
It was clear they’d both grown. He hadn’t planned on asking him to stop using his name. That he’d willingly see that everyone else didn’t use it, and adjust meant something to him.
“I’ll marry you as D’Artangnan, but Michael is the man I made myself. He’s the better version of who I once was. He is the smarter man who knows how to treat the person he loves.”
Graham smiled.
“Then, Michael it is. It’s still a beautiful name for my Archangel.”
He rested his forehead against his.
“Thank you, M'eudail,” he whispered.
Graham’s heart skipped.
“A thasgaidh,” he whispered back to his darling man.
When they heard someone clear their throat, both looked over.
