“I didn’t want to look at them,” he said at last. “I had to move, and—” He broke off and gave Thomas a lopsided smile. “It’s kind of a long and messy story. Are you sure you want to know?”
“Yes,” Thomas said softly. It would help to know exactly what he was up against and if there was any hope of Rhys ever being interested in him. “I’m sure.”
Rhys sat up straight and drew in a deep breath. “It took me a while before I brought Andy home with me. How much do you know about what happened to cause the fallout between me and Scott? Did he tell you anything?”
“Yes, he did,” Thomas replied. “He said he feels bad about it and that he was young and stupid.”
Rhys let out a derisive snort. “Well, his ‘youthful stupidity’ is why I didn’t bring Andy home until I was sure our relationship was solid. I didn’t want history repeating itself. When he got here, he fell in love with the mountains, and once we started thinking long term, we decided to make Waynesville our home base. We bought a house together shortly before we got married, and after he died…” He released a shuddery breath. “I couldn’t stay there. Everywhere I looked, I saw memory ghosts. I opened the bedroom closet, and I could smell him. It was too much.”
Thomas’s heart lurched in his chest, and he found it hard to breathe. He’d known Rhys was still carrying around a lot of grief, but he didn’t know how he could compete with this. He was probably torturing himself, but he had to know. “You can’t even look at his picture? Even after all this time?”
“I haven’t tried,” Rhys said with a little shrug. “I couldn’t stay in our house, so I sold it and bought my townhouse. Mama helped me go through his stuff and decide what to keep and what to donate or throw away, but I packed up everything I decided to keep and put it in the storage barn at their house. I thought it would be easier for me to move on if I didn’t have any reminders around, you know? But I’m not sure how well that’s worked out.”
“Maybe having something around would be healthier for you,” Thomas said quietly. “Pushing it all away makes it seem like you’re still in denial that he’s even gone.”
“You sound like Mama,” Rhys said as he took a sip of bourbon. “She’s been after me to see a grief counsellor.”
Thomas knew he had to tread softly around this subject, so Rhys wouldn’t think he was overstepping the bounds of friendship. “That’s your decision, of course, but it might not be a bad idea. Maybe it would help. Maybe it wouldn’t. But you’ll never know unless you try.”
“Maybe,” Rhys said at last, his voice soft and contemplative. “It seems… I don’t know. Foolish or weak. Death is a part of life. You should be able to soldier on.”
Thomas shook his head. “That’s macho bullshit. I’m amazed you bought into it. It’s not foolish or weak to need help. I went to a therapist after my parents disowned me when I came out. Do you think I’m foolish or weak?”
“No, of course not!” Rhys appeared shocked by the suggestion. “But being rejected by your parents isn’t normal or natural. It makes sense that you’d need help dealing with it.”
“Loss is loss. You still go through the grieving process.” Thomas looked at Rhys intently. “Going to counseling isn’t a sign of weakness, no matter what it’s for. It’s a sign of someone who wants to find closure and move on. There are plenty of ‘natural’ parts of life that are damned hard to cope with and accepting help when you need it doesn’t diminish you in any way.” He lightened his tone. “Going to therapy doesn’t mean you’re being disloyal to Andy either. Dealing with your grief doesn’t mean you lose him more than you already have.”
Rhys gave an exaggerated wince and a forced chuckle. “When you hit the nail on the head, you really do it hard. I think that might be part of it. Losing Andy was the worst pain of my entire life. Maybe I thought clinging to him would lessen it somehow.”
“It’s your life, Rhys,” Thomas said. “You’re the one who has to decide how you want to live it. Not me, and not Viv. But, speaking as a friend, it might help to talk to a counselor.”
“Maybe.” Rhys finished his second bourbon, and then he shook his head with a self-deprecating smile. “I haven’t talked to anyone about it until tonight. Not even to Mama. And you didn’t even have to use the Bambi eyes on me!”
“Then I’m honored you felt comfortable enough to open up to me,” Thomas replied. “You know you can always talk to me.”
“I know.” Rhys’s features softened as he gazed across the table at Thomas. “You’re a good man. A pretty one too,” he added as he signaled the waiter again.
Thomas went very still, staring at Rhys, then cutting his eyes to Rhys’s empty glass
Fortunately their meals arrived along with the third glass of bourbon, and Thomas relaxed. Rhys was a big man, and no doubt eating would help mitigate the effects of the alcohol. Thomas had taken no more than a few sips of wine, and he told himself he needed to keep a clear head.
Rhys picked up his fork and ate a couple of bites of the trout. “It’s really good. You wanted to share, right?” He speared a generous forkful of fish and held it out to Thomas.
Thomas knew it was only the alcohol that was making Rhys lose so much of his reticence, and it gave him a twinge of regret. But he leaned in to accept the bite of fish, wishing the lover-like gesture had been made in the same spirit Thomas received it.
“Itisgood,” he said after he swallowed. He cut a bite of his pork, holding it out for Rhys. “Care to try mine?”
Rhys leaned forward, and then he blinked. “Whoa. Getting a little unsteady,” he said, and he grasped Thomas’s hand so he could guide the fork to his mouth. “Mm… That’s good too.”
The touch of Rhys’s warm hand sent tingles up Thomas’s arm. Thomas felt he was getting a little unsteady himself, and he wasn’t the one who’d polished off almost three glasses of bourbon!
“It is,” he said. “The chef is really good.”
“So you’re glad we came?” Rhys asked, withdrawing his hand slowly so that his fingertips seemed to caress the back of Thomas’s hand. “You’ve enjoyed the day?”
“Yes.” Thomas’s voice was husky even to his own ears. “It’s been one of the best days I can remember.”
“I’m glad.” Rhys gazed at Thomas with a warmth and softness in his eyes that Thomas hadn’t seen before. “I want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy.”
