“Shut up,” I manage between kisses, unwilling to untangle from Penn for something as trivial as oxygen or propriety.
Finally pulling apart for a moment to catch our breaths, I stare into his gorgeous eyes, bright with excitement and happiness, and I know without a doubt that there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with him, no matter what the future holds.
Chapter thirty-two
Epilogue
PENN
Ican’t sleep. Butterflies are dancing in my stomach like they’re competing in some kind of talent show. It’s way too early; the sun’s not even close to rising yet. The sheets are tangled around my legs, proof that I did try and sleep, but there’s no chance. I’m far too restless, but it’s the good kind of restless. The Christmas morning kind, or the day before going on vacation kind of restless. I can’t wait for the day to begin. Hunter’s warm body is pressed against mine, his breathing slow and rhythmic, and as I look down at him, my heart skips a beat. The butterflies get even more lively inside me as I recall how Hunter tried his best to help me sleep by taking me completely apart before gently and lovingly putting me back together last night.
My stomach somersaults as I think about what today means. It’s been months—no, years—of working harder than I everhave in my life, and now, finally, The Open Door shelter is, well, opening its doors. A crazy flutter of excitement tickles my insides, and I have to clamp a hand over my mouth to stifle a giddy laugh.
I think back to how terrified I was to tell anyone when I hatched the idea for this place. How very afraid I was of failure! And let me tell you, I had some clear failures during the process, but what I didn’t get at the time was how much confidence failure can bring. Confidence, because if the thing you failed at was important enough, you never give up. It’s just not an option. You just suck it up, get right back on the horse and keep going, no matter what. It’s when you realize how much you’ve learned from the failure, that’s what gives you even more confidence. Part of me still doesn’t actually believe I made this happen, but the proof is there, in the beautiful new building, and the excitement of my friends and the staff we’ve already hired, and especially in the excited faces of the kids we’ve already had asking about the place.
A soft groan from Hunter pulls me back to the present. He blinks awake, all sleepy frown and rumpled hair, and turns to face me. “Penn? You okay?” His voice is gravelly with sleep, and it sends a shiver through me.
“Better than okay,” I reply, my voice low. “I’m just… happy. Can you believe it’s finally here?”
He props himself up on one elbow and looks at me, a faint smile playing around the corners of his lips. “I always knew you could do it.”
“I know you did. You helped me believe I could.” Leaning in, I take his mouth in a kiss that I can only hope tells him what I don’t think I’ll ever be able to using only words. Hunter was there for me on this entire journey. I may have done the work, but he supported me completely and unconditionally in everyway he could. It made our love grow stronger. I've never felt so loved in my entire life.
A few hours later, we’re surrounded by dozens of people, everyone buzzing with excitement as we get ready to officially cut the ribbon. There’s a local news crew here, along with the mayor of the small city where we decided to locate the shelter, about an hour north of Seattle. Everyone here has been part of making The Open Door a reality; whether it’s because they donated time, money, or other things, none of this would have been possible without so many people working together. And again, that was something I had to learn during this process. I chuckle to myself when I think back to the beginning when I went into this believing I’d be able to do it pretty much on my own, using just the money from my trust fund. Of course, I did donate a huge chunk of the money, but so did a lot of other people and companies. Because of that, we’ve been able to ensure the shelter will be operating with a very healthy annual budget for many years to come.
“Okay, everyone, it’s showtime!” Silvia Moreno, the incredible woman we hired to be the shelter’s managing director, calls out while clapping her hands. She gets everyone corralled and organized with what looks like effortless charm, the many silver bangles on her wrists clanking together softly as she directs people. Originally from Mexico City, Silvia has worked in the US for nearly thirty years, dedicating her career and her life to helping marginalized young people all over the country. Martin and I feel unbelievably lucky that she wanted to come work at The Open Door. Her long gray hair and dangly silver earrings are already becoming synonymous with the welcoming, warm feeling that surrounds everyone at the shelter, and we haven't even officially opened yet.
Martin takes the podium, and I notice Jesse Greenwood, who's flown in from San Diego, giving him a brilliant smile.It's taken a while, but Jesse is finally starting to get back to the person he was before his marriage fell apart. He and Martin have become close friends, as Jesse has been as involved as he can be in helping us with the shelter, while working remotely from his home. Part of me wonders if something more than just friendship might be brewing between those two now. My thoughts are interrupted when Martin speaks into the microphone. “Okay, everyone, I know we all want to get on with the party, so without further ado, I’m going to hand the podium to our executive director and the person without whom The Open Door would never have happened, my good friend Penn Thompson.”
Applause erupts around me, and Hunter, standing beside me, squeezes my hand before nudging me forward to take the podium. Silvia wraps me up in a giant hug, squeezing me a lot harder than her tiny, five-foot-tall frame would indicate she could.
“Penn, what you have built here is incredible. Thank you,” she whispers in my ear, her eyes shining with unshed tears, which of course makes me well up.
“God, Silvia. I told you, you cannot make me cry before we’ve actually cut the ribbon!” I sniffle as I take the microphone and take a deep breath, feeling Hunter’s reassuring presence behind me as the excited chatter softens to a hush.
“Thank you, everyone, for being here today,” I start, my voice surprisingly steady. “This shelter isn’t just a building; it’s a beacon of hope, a safe haven, a place where lives will change…” I go on to call out a few of our major donors specifically, but I don’t draw it out. “So, without further ado,” I say, grabbing the oversized scissors Martin hands me, “let’s officially open the doors to new beginnings!” The snip of the ribbon is drowned out by applause, cheers, and whistles.
HUNTER
God, how I love this man. Watching Penn cut the ribbon to this place that’s going to literally save lives, I can’t believe I never let myself see past the shallow trust-fund, party-boy mask he wore for so long. But I’m so goddamn happy I see him now. Penn’s not the only one who’s grown as a human being during this process of creating The Open Door. He’s unlocked parts of me I kept buried for years, coaxing me out of my protective shell gradually, bit by bit. It’s not so taxing to be around groups of people anymore. I can mingle without anxiety clawing at my gut. My newfound social growth and confidence has led to several quick promotions at Rainy Day, and I work closely with the owner and CEO, Matt every day now. I couldn’t love my job any more if I tried.
Laughter bubbles around us like champagne, and I glance over to see Serah bouncing on her toes, clapping her hands like she’s at a rock concert instead of a shelter opening. Cooper’s got an arm slung around Logan’s shoulders, both of them grinning like fools. And Kelly, usually fairly stoic, is beaming like a kid on Christmas as they stand in a small circle, chatting with their boss, Carson Wells, and a couple of players from the Seattle Sasquatch, the city’s new NHL team.
As Penn hands the ridiculously oversized scissors to someone, Martin is there, and they share a long hug full of mutual respect and close friendship across generations. I know from talking with Martin over these months that not only does he feel like the work he does to build the shelters is important for all the obvious reasons, but he also sees it as a calling to educate young gay men about the generation of men just like us who were lost only a fewdecades ago to AIDS. Martin’s partner, Richard, is always with him, but as I watch Jesse Greenwood step close to him and lean in, whispering something in Martin’s ear with a smile, it’s almost like I can see the charged air between them. It’s like witnessing the first tentative steps of a dance that will, hopefully for both of them, grow into something much bigger with a little time.
The reception starts to wind down, and not long after, the heady excitement of celebration has faded into a comfortable hush. It’s only our closest friends left now, and that group has grown to include Martin, Jesse Greenwood, and the newest addition, Silvia, the shelter’s new director. We’re sitting around in a loose circle, wedged between the tables that were set up for guests to nibble on snacks and chat. Serah is picking at the remnants of the cake, and her laughter as she talks to Kelly warms my heart. Logan and Cooper are locked in a debate about the best way to furnish one of the common rooms, which Penn told me they've deliberately not decorated because they want the first residents of the shelter to help them design it—not that those two meatheads care. Personally, I think they’re both just looking for an excuse to argue since each point is punctuated by light shoves and playful jabs like they’re teenagers. I shake my head, wondering what’s up with those two, but I don’t wonder for long since I have other more important things on my mind.
I stand up, reaching for Penn’s hand and pulling him up next to me, ignoring the look of confusion on his face. I clear my throat, and the room goes still, all eyes on me. But it’s Penn’s gaze I hold on to—those blue eyes that have been my anchor, my storm, my calm. It’s time to leap into the unknown, together.
“What’s going on, babe?” he asks, and I take a deep breath, tasting anticipation. Serah knows what’s about to happen since she helped me pick out the ring a few weeks ago. But I think we’ve managed to keep it a secret from everyone else.
“Sorry, it’s just…” I take a deep breath. “I love you, Penn. You know that, right?” His nod is cautious, but his hand in mine is warm and steady.
“You’re an amazing person. You’ve turned my life upside down—in the best way. You make me so damn happy, Penn.” My voice catches, and as realization dawns on Penn’s face, his eyes fill, and he squeezes my hand. “Penn, I honestly never believed life could be like this. Of course, we all have bad days, but I can truthfully say that at least once a day, I feel a surge of true, pure happiness that I never, ever thought I would have.”
I drop to one knee, hitting the ground harder than I intend, causing me to wince, but it doesn’t matter because I’m fishing the small velvet box out of my pocket. “Penn Thompson, will you marry me?”
The room is electric. Penn’s eyes glisten as he bites down on his bottom lip in that endearing way he has, and then his hands are cupping my cheeks, and he’s pulling me to my feet, and the word “yes” crashes over me like a wave, sweeping everything else away.
