His eyesight blurred, and he shut the notebook before his tears wet the pages. Still clutching the notebook, he raised his gaze to meet Sam’s.
“So that’s it, then. Where—” he said, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “Where is she buried? I want to give her a proper burial.”
“I’ll check with the city, but I know most unclaimed deaths get buried on Hart Island.” Sam made a note in his book. “I’m really sorry about this Tyler, but I thought you’d want to hear it from a friend and come out here to see where Amber lived, rather than do it in your apartment with Lillie right there.”
None of it mattered; one place was the same as another to hear about death. “It’s fine, and I appreciate everything you’ve done, Sam. I’m not the type to kill the messenger.” He pressed a napkin to his eyes, soaking up what remaining tears he had left to cry. “My only hope is that she didn’t suffer too much, and that I grant her last wish of being able to raise Lillie.”
Marcus, who’d been on his phone while Tyler had been reading Amber’s journal, gave him a grim-face smile. “I texted Josh and gave him a brief summary of what happened and Amber’s journal. He seems to think that will go a long way to you keeping Lillie and even adopting her if you want.”
The obvious choice would be for him to adopt Lillie; he was sure he’d be able to find a dance studio and make the dream of teaching dance to children a reality. Not that he had to give up his personal dreams of dancing professionally, but Tyler knew at his age, serious careers in dance were already in full swing. And the thought of leaving Lillie to go on tour held little enjoyment for him.
Then there was Marcus. His solid strength was Tyler’s reality now. The man he’d originally shunned and dismissed as a slut without any morals had instead proven to be a dedicated and caring lover, and though Marcus might deny it, a family man who’d defend the people he loved to the death. Tyler had yet to pierce the facade of what made Marcus the man he grew up to be, and though they still struggled some days with who held the power between them, he relished the time they’d share together peeling away his layers.
This man, the two of them plus Lillie, was the life he chose to keep and fight for. But he needed to know how Marcus felt about having Lillie permanently in his life.
“Sam, thank you.” He mustered a smile, and Sam nodded. “I know it’s not easy to give this kind of news to anyone.”
Sam slipped his notebook in his pocket and pulled on his jacket. “I’ll be in touch about, well, what we talked about. I should have something definite for you by the weekend.”
“Tell Zach hi, and we’ll see you all on Sunday for brunch.” Marcus glanced up from texting on his phone. “We’re coming to Brooklyn, right?”
“Yeah.”
Sam left, and then it was the two of them in that sad little booth in the corner. The rain streamed down the windows, and he watched Sam hurry across the street to his car, dodging puddles. After he drove away, Tyler collapsed against the back of the cracked faux-leather banquette. Never had he felt such bone-sapping weariness.
“Ty, c’mere.”
With a grateful smile, he slid into Marcus’s open arms. He stayed that way for several minutes, soaking in Marcus’s warmth and familiar scent.
“I’m sorry about Amber, but it’s better that you know now and can start planning for the next step.”
Practically, Tyler knew Marcus’s business-like attitude was correct: Amber was dead, and dwelling on the whys and hows of her life didn’t help present circumstances. And yet he still resented Marcus’s blasé attitude.
“Can you give me at least a minute to mourn her, or does that interfere with your plans?”
Marcus stiffened. “Um, what’s going on? You seem to be angry with me, and I’m not sure why. I’m only trying to help.”
Studying Marcus’s confused face, Tyler’s resentment dissipated. It wasn’t Marcus’s fault Amber ran away and made horrendous choices. At any time she could’ve contacted him, and he would’ve given up everything to bring her back home; he knew Marcus would’ve helped him, without him even needing to ask.
So why was he angry at him? Perhaps it was that Marcus’s life seemed so easy; there’d been no struggle to accomplish anything. Whatever Marcus had ever wanted had been given to him, no questions asked.
“I-I know. And I appreciate it. I’m still not used to having someone who thinks enough about me to care. I’ve always been alone.”
The tight lines on Marcus’s face softened; his lip curved upward in a small smile. “But that’s no longer true, right? I thought we moved past themyselfpart and on to theuspart.”
Returning Marcus’s smile, Tyler nodded. “We have. It still takes me a moment to remember that sometimes.”
They paid the bill and walked outside. The rain had stopped, and the early evening air blew fresh and cool. Cars swept by on the busy avenue, and evening commuters hurried past them, eager to get home after their workday and start their dinner and nighttime routines. Curious now as to his earlier thoughts, Tyler waited to ask his question until Marcus had finished calling for a car to bring them home.
“You never speak about your childhood. I’m assuming your parents are both gone, and I know how tough it must be.”
Marcus barked out a laugh and turned wide, amused eyes on him. “Never assume. As far as I know, my parents are both alive; I visit my mother once every two or three months and my father not at all. It suits our purposes to keep it that way.”
A black sedan pulled up, and Marcus indicated they should get inside. Once settled, Tyler continued to press Marcus with questions.
“Surely your parents had money and could give you everything you wanted.”
Before he could go on, Marcus placed a warning hand on his arm, his face an unreadable mask.
