His words made absolutely no sense to my ransacked brain. It actually took me more than a few moments to put it all together and even at that point, I still had to ask, “Huh? I’m sorry, but what?”
“Micah,” he said, a calm easiness accompanying his single word. As I sat there, my mouth opened wide enough to catch fireflies, he continued, “He loves you, too. Don’t worry,” he responded to my fearful and probably angry eyes. “He didn’t actually say anything. But—” He slapped my hand before rising from his chair. “—he looked at me just like that.”
“Yeah,” I asked, sitting with my head in my hands, disbelief resonating all around me. “And how’s that?”
“Like the weight of the world had just been lifted off his shoulders.”
And with that, he walked back inside, greeted by Micah, waiting for him at the sliding glass door.
As much as I had just been rocked to the core, it felt as if my life made sense for the first time . . . ever. So with that feeling in hand, I went inside to make dinner with my dad and Micah. We didn’t talk about what we’d all shared, whether it was by words or intuition. Instead, just as we had this past weekend, we watchedJeopardyandWheel of Fortune.Dad had a few beers, but I was more than stunned when he stopped at five rather than his usual baker’s dozen—or more, depending on how good he was at hiding the evidence.
At the end of the night, Dad gathered his jacket and a bag of leftovers Micah had packed for him. “Well, I guess I should call a taxi. I don’t expect you boys to take me home at this hour.” He wasn’t saying it to make us feel guilty. Rather, his words came from a place of genuine sincerity. The shift in his demeanor was so quick tonight, it made me wonder if it had been there all along. And maybe I was just too caught up in the past to realize how the present was unfolding right before my eyes.
Or maybe I was just too focused on my own sadness I hadn’t noticed.
“Dad.” Walking over to him as he slid his shoes on by the front door, I shot Micah a look over my shoulder. I was asking him permission to let my father stay for the night. And in that moment, I realized that this place, these four walls, and fenced-in yard, was his home, too. Sure, it had only been less than two weeks, but in my heart, he’d always been here. Micah nodded at my unspoken question, and it sealed his place in my heart.
As if it had ever belonged to anyone else.
“Don’t be silly. Stay the night. It’s so late already.” His face lit up into a bright smile as I dropped my hand onto his shoulder. “It’ll be nice to have you here for the weekend,” I added, turning my attention back to Micah at the last minute to make sure that last little change was okay for him. Again, he nodded, and the broken pieces of my heart cemented in place.
My father and I were years away from making the progress we’d need to be healed, but in the same breath, it was a step in the right direction. And wasn’t that where everyone had to start?
It was where Micah started when he made the decision to come here.
It was where I started when I let him back into my life, despite the pain I’d kept concealed all these years in his absence.
We all had a long fucking way to go, but there was no place better to start than here.
“This is weird,” I admitted as I unbuttoned my jeans as I stood next to the bed.
Laughing, Micah said, “I could go in the other room. Give you some privacy. You know, before we fuck and all.” Unable to hide my worry, I shushed him, to which he only laughed more. Standing from the bed, lifting his shirt over his head in that same smooth motion he used every night, Micah continued laughing. “First of all,” he began, holding a single finger up in my face. “That guest room is all the way on the other side of the house.” Dropping his hand, he laid it on my naked hip, his fingers digging into my skin with a pleasant bite.
Leaning into his body, I wanted nothing more than to dive into the warmth of his body, his naked chest pressing up against mine. “And second?”
His lips captured mine in a kiss so different from the others we’d shared. It was hot and sweet, tender and hard, and packed so much more emotion than any kiss should. When our lips parted, he grabbed the other side of my waist with his metal fingers. They were cool to the touch but quickly warmed from my overheated skin. “I forgot what I was going to say.” He laughed, resting his forehead against mine.
Before I could say anything else, he stepped away from me. After dropping his clothes in the hamper, he dug through the dresser and pulled out some shorts. “Is it okay that he knows?” I asked as he was turned away from me, too afraid to say the words to his face.
When he spun around, I realized it was a stupid fear. “Yeah,” he said, keeping his voice even and in control. It ended up sounding a little more like a question than a statement, but when he added, “Yeah. Of course it is. I mean, even if he didn’t know, it wouldn’t be untrue, you know?”
I nodded, and he walked into the attached bathroom to brush his teeth. While he was in there, I changed into some shorts as well, letting his words permeate my brain. As I joined him in the bathroom, he was rinsing his toothbrush and smiled at me in the mirror. “It’ll be okay, Jude,” he assured me as he began unlatching the hooks on his prosthetic.
As he walked back into the bedroom, I finished brushing my teeth and wondered how the hell I got so lucky as to have this be my life. Two weeks ago, I was muddling through my existence, trying to find happiness in the activities I felt like I should—work, exercise, friends.
But, with Micah in my life, and the patches at least in place with my father, I knew none of those things mattered. What mattered most, the people I loved, were right here in front of me, and what a difference they made.
Micah was propped up against the headboard when I walked back into the bedroom. His arm was draped across his waist and with his face twisted in a thoughtful if not concerned look, I knew he was thinking about something important.
“Penny for your thoughts?” I asked as I slid under the covers and propped myself up next to him.
“It was something your dad said earlier,” he muttered, scrubbing his hand over the scruff dusting his jaw.
Twisting to face him better, my leg brushed up against his. When he didn’t pull it away, I knew it couldn’t be something groundbreaking. “About?”
“Heath.” The name fell from his mouth without venom or hate, but there was still something there making me know this might not be the most pleasant of conversations. I opened my mouth to say something, and Micah cut me off. “Why didn’t you tell me the other night?” He wasn’t angry, but hurt. I hated that I’d done that to him. “I mean it’s your story to tell, but I was right there. Shook his hand and everything. It would’ve been nice to know . . .” His words trailed off.
“I know. And I’m sorry, but it’s not what you think. There wasn’t anything really there.” Dropping my hand to his thigh, I squeezed it gently, trying my best to reassure him with my touch. “We were friends who got a little drunk one night.” Searching my brain for the best words to explain what happened, I let a blip of silence spread between us on a deep breath. “Basically, we tried not to be just friends, and it didn’t work.”
