“Let’s get it started, then.”
Chapter 28
Nantes
Three Months Later
“Bends.”
I look up from stacking empty pastry trays to see a frantic Vanian standing in the doorway of the tasting room.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He looks around, then blows out a breath. “Not wrong, just…”
I put the trays down and walk over to him. “What’s going on?”
“They found him. Fetterman,” he whispers. “Someone noticed a bunch of scavenger birds hanging around the place and called it in.”
My heart races. “Is that bad?”
He shakes his head, but he still looks distressed until he steps into my arms. As I wrap my arms around him, he practically melts, and seconds later, his body starts to tremble and I realize he’s crying.
“Whoa, okay.” I rub his back. “I got you.”
After a few moments, he steps back, wiping his tear-stained cheeks. “It’s a relief. I think I was holding my breath without knowing it. I can finally close the book on this.” He hands me his phone. “Here’s the article.”
I scan the details. Cause of death is unknown, and without any evidence, an investigation is unlikely. They found his car at the bar where we met him, but no one they questioned remembered him that night or anything helpful about who he might have been with.
“They don’t have cameras at that bar,” Vanian says. “No one talks there anyway, even if someone remembers. But they probably don’t.”
“That’s good.”
“He was identified by his ID. Nothing else was left. They’ll never know what happened and his family chose to cremate him.” His shoulders drop. “I’m free.”
“I’m so happy for you. The thing in Chicago too.”
“It seems someone picked up where I left off.”
“And all the while, you’ve been here in Madison.” I drape my arms around his shoulders. “Loving me.”
“I’m a lucky man, Bends. Everything worked out much better than I hoped for.”
I brush my fingers along the edge of his jaw, prickly with stubble. Since he made the decision to stay here, things really have slotted into place. His company didn’t want to lose him, so they offered him a transfer to the adult side of things to work remotely. Instead of trauma, he focuses on helping people navigate queer identities and neurodiversity. So far, he seems to really like it, and it’s far less triggering.
We haven’t made any official announcements to my family except for telling them that Vanian decided to relocate here, and my brothers, Brogan, and Balt were all on hand to help us move his stuff from Chicago. I’m pretty sure they think we’re still justbest friends like we were as kids. Either that, or they are actually respecting my privacy and not asking me anything.
“Are you almost done here?” he asks.
“Yep.” I glance at my watch. “Gotta be back in forty minutes for dinner though. Brogan’s birthday.”
“I remember. Come on.”
I put the trays away and then walk out with Vanian. Just before we make it out, the front door opens and Nonna enters carrying a basket of cut flowers.
“Hi, Nonna.” I bend and kiss her cheek. “Need any help?”
Her bright eyes shift to Vanian as she shakes her head. “Nope. Just cut some flowers from the garden for the table.”
