He didn’t even look at his phone, instead opting to put some frozen chili con carne into the microwave while he showered off the stench of the smoke off his hair and body. He had to put his uniform into the washer, but at least he had a spare at work.
He nodded off at the table but managed to eat most of his still frozen-in-the-middle meal, before faceplanting on his bed.
* * * *
Since Mark had spent five more hours at work than he was supposed to, the sheriff had left him a message insisting that he took the next day off and go see the Grahams.
Mark stared at the message blearily and wondered why Francis hadn’t texted him—oh, right. Because Francis was out of a job and had another one lined up back in New Jersey.
Mark sank back into his pillows and tried to gauge what he was feeling. Well, other than the usual dose of self-doubt.Of course he would leave, why would he stay here? Withme? As if I’m good enough for someone like Francis.
While he recognized his thoughts were spinning out of control and he was getting closer to what felt like the same awful thing that had taken over him after some of the worst Wednesday calls, he didn’t do anything to stop it.
Better get it over now. This was always going to happen. He’s not going to stay in Acker for me. Why would he? He could get anyone, smart and gorgeous as he is.
He turned to his side and clutched a pillow against his chest as he curled up, making breathing even more difficult.
You saw how happy he was with his friends here. How unhappy he’s without them. It’s not like you’re enough to keep him from being miserable. How could you? You’re nothing! A fucking loser like your dad always—
“Mark? What’s wrong?” Gentle hands brushed his forehead as if to move hair that didn’t reach that far. “Darling? What’s going on?”
Mark heard twin thumps of shoes falling onto the floor and then Francis manhandled him on his back and over, against Francis’s chest.
“Sweetheart, breathe with me for a while, okay?”
Mark did, and eventually, he could sort of concentrate on Francis. “My dad’s dying,” Mark said the words into Francis’s chest. “And you’re leaving.” He hadn’t meant to say either thing, but he had and the words were out now.
Francis froze under his cheek, and then he pushed Mark away just enough to wiggle down the bed so they were on eye level.
“Look at me,” Francis said. When he couldn’t, Francis tilted his head and waited what felt like minutes until he finally gave in and lifted his gaze to meet Francis’s. “I amnotleaving. You never read the rest of my messages, did you?”
When Mark couldn’t make words happen, Francis pulled him closer again, awkward as it was, and settled down.
“Listen carefully, Mark, okay? I’m going to say this as many times as I need to make you believe me. I love you. I’m in love with you. I think you’reitfor me. I’m not leaving. I have savings, and I don’t have to find another job immediately. There are reasons I left New Jersey, and one of them is that I didn’t feel like I could breathe there anymore.” The more Francis spoke in his even, sure voice, the more Mark relaxed. “Do I miss my friends? Of course I do. But they’ll come visit and maybe we’ll go see them one day. But my life is here in Acker now. With you, with all the friends I have here.”
Mark nodded where he was squished against Francis’s chest. “Okay.” Then, after a pause, he added, “I believe you.”
To his utter surprise, he realized he believed those words, too.
Francis didn’t ask about his father, and he felt glad. They stayed on the bed in silence for a while.
Mark began to talk haltingly, getting his thoughts out from the jumble it had been for he wasn’t sure how long until Francis got there. “My mother managed to get hold of me through the sheriff. His private number. Dad had a stroke and… I don’t know. He’s dying, I guess.”
Francis stroked his back and let him speak. “She thinks I should go back to forgive them, just because he’s dying. Go to the funeral. I won’t. I don’t want to see him, even if he’s dead. Her… in some ways even less.” He sighed. “She should’ve done more. I know she tried, once, but that wasn’t good enough. Not in the long run.”
When he went quiet, Francis eventually murmured, “We put a lot of trust in our parents, as we should—mothers especially. Some people aren’t fit to be parents, even when they want children. The beauty of being an adult in a committed relationship is that you get to make your own decisions and you have backup. You haven’t been their child for a long time, Mark. You’ve been a verbal punching bag they think they have ownership over. But they don’t. You’re not theirs.”
Mark nodded. “I’m mine.” Then he thought for a few beats and added, “And I’m yours. As much as I can be anyone else’s, other than my own.”
Francis made a curious little sound, and when Mark moved to look at his face, he could see tears in his eyes.
When Francis didn’t elaborate, Mark smiled. “Of course I’m yours, Francis, and you’re mine. We’re good together. I don’t… my brain tries to tell me I’m not good enough for you, but somehow you think I am?” He frowned, then held his finger to Francis’s lips when he tried to object to his words. “You balance out the parts of me that scared me for so long. You bring me peace I didn’t know could exist. I’m not—” He stopped and bit his lower lip. The admission felt huge still. “I’m not scared anymore, if that makes sense.”
“It does,” Francis said as soon as Mark had lowered his hand. “You’re enough, in all the ways, Mark. You’re everything I didn’t know I needed or wanted in my life. You’ve made me whole in a way I never was, and that’s because somehow we fit. Maybe we shouldn’t, on the surface level, I don’t know.” Francis shrugged. “You give yourself to me, all of you, and I would be a fool to not accept that as the gift it is.”
Mark sat up and leaned to the headboard. Francis did the same.
“This feels like the part in the movie where we vow eternal love and one of us proposes,” Mark said dryly, but smiled anyway.
