“Are you trying to find her?” Auden asked.
Without answering his question, I closed my laptop, launched to my feet, and steered Auden out of my bedroom. He opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off before he had the chance. “Do you want to meet Nathaniel tonight?”
The question seemed to have caught him off guard. “What?”
“Nathaniel. My boyfriend. Do you want to meet him?”
“I can’t,” he said, stunned.
I knew he was shy, especially around new people, but I hadn’t expected a flat-outno.“Why not? Nathaniel has been dying to meet you. You can just say hello. I won’t make you talk for long.”
“I can’t,” Auden said, hands fluttering anxiously at his sides.
I didn’t want to cause him any more anxiety, so I merely nodded and ruffled his hair. “Okay, not tonight then. But soon, alright?”
“Okay,” Auden whispered, face pale.
That night, Auden remained locked up in his room when Nathaniel came over. We played video games on my couch, a shared blanket draped over us as we competed for the first-place trophy in Mario Kart. Nathaniel had been disappointed not to meet Auden, but he didn’t push. He said two of his brothers were shy too, so he understood.
In between competitive shouting and teasing, there were long kisses, our fingers intertwined as we melted into each other’s arms. He kept his promise, of never asking for more, but I still felt guilty, as though I were withholding something from him. And there was insecurity, too, a fear that he would seek physical intimacy elsewhere. It would cause me to grow distant, and Nathaniel, through no fault of his own, became a potential enemy in my mind. I fought through it, knowing jealousy had jeopardised my friendship with Ava and I didn’t want it to do the same with Nathaniel.
The following day, Nathaniel invited me inside his favourite place in the world—other than my arms, of course. His words, not mine. He seemed nervous, words pouring from his lips twice as fast as he explained that he'd never shown anyone outside of his family this room before. It was his treasure, his safe space.
Biting his lip, he paused in front of a tall, dark oak door, fingers curled around the golden handle. I waited, patiently, as the door creaked open and Nathaniel gestured for me to step inside, his eyes wide and vulnerable.
It was his music room—soundproof walls lined with charcoal padding, a large classical piano in the left-hand corner, black paint polished, shining in the room's dim light. Beside the piano, a long wooden cabinet displayed several trophies and awards, Nathaniel's musical achievements starting from the age of five. Three violins and a cello hung on stands by the right-hand corner, a glass table littered with music books and instrument cleaning products beside it. As he approached the piano, Irealised this was his equivalent of my art studio. He was showing his canvases, letting me into his art.
“I wrote you something,” he said. His fingers found their assigned keys, stool groaning as he shifted to make room beside him. "I started writing it before we even…"
"Even what?"
"Started dating," he chuckled breathlessly.
I lowered myself down next to him, our thighs pressed together. He tested one of the many white keys beneath his fingers, and then, with one last inhale, music spilled into the air.
It was soft, a gentle caress against my cheek, a private kiss under the moonlight. And then it was wild, as though we were running barefoot in the woods, the meadow, the galleries.
Nathaniel’s fingers moved effortlessly along the keyboard, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he chased the music that poured from his soul.
I closed my eyes as the music grew louder, chaotic, more intense. It was circling me, surrounding me, consuming me.
My heart thundered against my chest, and behind my closed eyelids, I was running. I was running from Nathaniel, ducking under tree branches and leaping over moss-covered logs. But Nathaniel was too fast. He caught me, arms wrapped around my waist, holding me in a firm, warm embrace.
The music calmed. It was quiet, almost shy. It was asking a question—a question I hadn’t known the answer to until this very moment.
Nathaniel—the one behind my closed eyelids—held me. He held me and he calmed me and he loved me. He infiltrated my guarded walls and conquered the caged monster of my heart.
I tasted salt on my lips as my eyelids fluttered open, a thumb on my cheek, wiping the tear away before I could process the music had ended.
“What do you think?” he asked quietly.
“I think that was beautiful,” I whispered, “And I think I love you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
It was 3am the following morning when Nathaniel sent me three messages that would change my life.
The first: ‘The God’s Soldiers Church got back to me.’
