Questions could be answered later, when Bo was down for the night and they had some semblance of privacy. Until then, they’d pretend to play family. It was hollow, but it gave Gage hope for the future. One day, they’d settle on the couch without it feeling tense or strange.
That day couldn’t come soon enough.
Gage rested his head against Aaron’s shoulder, closed his eyes, and let time tick by. It wouldn’t be much longer before the rest of the truth came out, and when it did, he needed to be ready for it. There was a chance that when Aaron found out what he’d done, he would leave. A secret baby was one thing—it was a mistake both of them had made together—but what Gage had been forced to do to keep food in the fridge and a roof over their heads? There was no one else to share his guilt, and he had to be ready to face the consequences of his actions alone.
8
Aaron
Between the end credits ofPeppa Pigand the opening theme of the next episode, Aaron glanced at Bo. His tiny head rested on Gage’s thigh, and rattling noise in his chest had slowed and deepened.
What was that noise?
From the time Aaron had set foot in the apartment, Bo had been making it. It almost sounded like he had phlegm in his throat that he badly needed to clear, but wasn’t sure how. Whatever it was, it worried Aaron. Was Bo sick?
It would explain why he was so fussy. What lousy timing. With any luck, if Bo felt better tomorrow, he’d come around, and Aaron would have the chance to start developing a bond with him.
“Is he asleep?” Aaron asked softly.
Gage glanced down at his son—theirson—and stroked Bo’s hair. When Bo didn’t stir, he nodded. “I’m going to go put him down for bed. Do you want to stay here?”
“I’ll come,” Aaron said, then hesitated. “As long as that’s okay?”
“Of course it is.” Gage scooped Bo up. His slumbering body hung limply in Gage’s arms, and Gage had to hoist him up to get him to rest on his shoulder. Aaron was surprised that Bo didn’t wake up. If he slept this soundly now, his teenage years were going to be hell. “I’m just going to tuck him in, that’s all. It’s been a long day. I’ll worry about his bath tomorrow.” Gage glanced across the living room in the direction Aaron assumed Bo’s bedroom was in. “You wanna get the door for me?”
“Sure.” There were two closed doors in the direction Gage had pointed. Aaron headed for the one on the right, but as he set his hand on the doorknob, Gage corrected him.
“Not that one,” Gage said. “The one beside it.”
“What’s in there?” Aaron asked. He moved to the other door and opened it, then flicked on the light so Gage could see. Inside, crammed against opposite walls, were a toddler bed and a full-sized bed—it looked like Gage and Bo shared a room.
Gage brought Bo to the toddler bed and laid him down carefully. Bo fussed, but didn’t wake up, and when Gage covered him with his blankets, he settled down. When Bo was tucked in, and after Gage had kissed his forehead, he returned to Aaron’s side and flipped off the light, then guided him out of the room and shut the door.
“BP?” Aaron asked, still not entirely certain about what was going on. “What was in the other room?”
“My office.” Gage’s voice was strained, like admitting it had taken substantial bravery. “It’s… one of the things I need to talk to you about, now that Bo’s asleep. Can we please have that conversation now? I don’t want to put it off any longer. There are some things you need to know.”
The statement was ominous. Aaron swallowed his apprehension and nodded, looking Gage over carefully for clues as to what he was about to say. What else could Gage be hiding?
“We should go sit on the couch,” Gage said unevenly. He rubbed his foot against his ankle and kept his gaze lowered, a sure sign that Gage felt guilty about something. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah. Of course it is.” The way Gage was acting wasn’t right, and at last, Aaron pieced together what exactly was wrong—Gage was acting like Aaron was a stranger. The easy friendship they’d had all their lives had been choked out by fear. Every furtive glance and ducked gaze made Aaron feel like their history meant nothing. “But before we sit, I want to say something.”
“Mm?” Gage looked up, startled. “What’s going on?”
“I’m not angry.” Aaron paused. The truth was, he didn’t know what he felt, but of all the conflicting emotions he cycled through, anger wasn’t one of them. He understood why Gage had done what he’d done. It was frustrating and disheartening, and it made Aaron second-guess the bond they shared, but he saw the reason in what Gage had done. When Aaron had left for Munich, he’d promised that he’d come back home and care for Gage for the rest of his life, if only Gage could be strong enough to wait for him. And so Gage had, despite the obstacles life had thrown his way.
He’d sacrificed his college education so Aaron could achieve his dreams and suffered years of isolation to keep the secret, all so Aaron could succeed. Aaron could never be mad at him for that. Gage’s heart was too big for his own good.
It was what made Aaron want to protect it at all costs.
Gage’s gaze was still lowered, so Aaron elaborated on what he’d said. “I think that you could have handled this situation better, but I see why you did what you did, and I appreciate what you did for me.”
Reluctantly, Gage glanced up. Aaron smiled at him, even though mild panic did its best to pollute his mind.
What else was there? What was he missing? And why did Gage look so guilty about it?
“So what is it that you wanted to talk about?” Aaron asked. He nodded toward the couch. “Let’s go sit down, like you said. I’m ready to hear it.”
