Oliver laughed and then turned serious again.
“This isn’t goodbye. Abby knows. I want—I have eight months, Abe. Maybe more, and I’d like to spend them with you by my side if—” he didn’t finish. Maybe because he wasn’t sure how, or maybe because he was afraid. Either way he didn’t need to.
Oliver had once asked him to be willing to share. Had asked Abe to be his secret, his mistress, as he pretended to build a life with another. This, Aberlour thought, wasn’t too far off from that scenario, but it also wasn’t the same. He wasn’t asking Aberlour to be his secret. Quite the opposite it seemed.Nor was he building a life elsewhere and keeping Aberlour in the shadows. He was asking Aberlour to be his crutch as he walked the last steps of his life.
They’d told Aberlour to look away when his men had gotten beheaded thousands of miles away from him. They’d told him he didn’t need to see it. Shouldn’t see it, but Aberlour had stayed, and those ghosts lived with him, always. A little voice in Aberlour’s head told him what Oli was asking was much the same. It wouldn’t be their happily ever after. He would not win. And yet—
“I’d like to see you try and keep me away, Darling,” Aberlour replied with his brightest smile before Oliver turned and walked out the door.
Chapter 38
August 2019
“Uncle Gavin!” Mia screamed at the top of her lungs, her arms held out from her sides like wings as she ran towards him.
Only two weeks had passed since they’d met at the fairgrounds, but from that enthusiastic greeting, she treated him as if he was her favourite uncle since birth.
Aberlour quickly snatched her up, placing her on his hip, and listened intently as she started babbling about her day. He struggled to make out what she was saying, but she didn’t seem to mind.
Aberlour walked the path leading to the back of Oliver’s house. Unlike Aberlour’s digs that were in a bad part of town and its condition a perfect reflection of its owner, Oliver’s was beautiful. There was no red door—which Abe was thankful for—but there was a large wrap-around porch. The white woodwork fit the background beautifully. As Abe rounded the corner of the backyard carrying Mia, he found Oliver lying on a lounge chair next to the pool, wearing a pair of sunglasses, his head tilted to the side like he’d fallen asleep.
“Mommy make burgers,” Ali proudly informed him. The three-year-old was Oliver’s oldest child. She looked more like Abby than Oliver. Abe didn’t hold it against her. She was as cute as a button and sitting in the sandbox by her daddy’s feet.
“Yeah?” Abe asked, amused by how serious she was in issuing this late breaking bit of news.
She gave an exaggerated nod.
“Daddy says she’s the grill—” she hesitated, searching her memory for the right word.
“Master,” Oliver finished for her with a proud smile. He stretched out on the chair, lifting both hands above his hair, and yawned.
“Don’t wake up on my account,” Aberlour teased.
Oliver snorted and sat up, pushing his glasses to the top of his head and giving Aberlour the heartbreaking smile he loved so much.
“Ali, Mia, why don’t you go give your mom a hand. She’s gonna need help bringing everything outside,” Oliver suggested with an affectionate smile.
“Race you!” Ali told her sister before jumping to her feet and sprinting towards the back door. She was halfway up the back porch steps before Aberlour could set Mia down.
With a screech of outrage, Mia raced after her sister.
“Missed you,” Oliver said, as Abe sat down next to him, sharing his lounge chair. It was a tight fit, but they made it work. He shook his head and clucked his tongue in mock disappointment.
“I was gone less than eight hours.”
Oliver shook his head like it didn’t matter.
“Think of all the things we could have done in eight hours,” Oliver replied, a smug look on his pale face.
Eight hours. They thought of time in hours now. They could have had years, now they focused on hours, and minutes. So little time. So much had been wasted. But Aberlour shoved that thought aside. He had better things to do, such as live in the present, and take advantage of having private time with Oliver.
Aberlour quickly checked the back door for any observers, and noting that the coast was clear, leaned over to give Oliver a quick kiss.
“Plenty of minutes left,” Abe lied smoothly with practiced skill.
This was as far as they’d gone since Oliver had come limping back into Aberlour’s life. He was—afraid wasn’t the right word—worried that he might break the man if they did more. Oliver kept rolling his eyes at the insinuation that he couldn’t handle more than that but had yet to push the issue. There was also the fact that Abby was always around, and though sheknew, there was a difference between knowing and having their desire for one another shoved in her face.
They sat there for a minute, side by side. Oliver leaned against him, obviously very tired, resting his head on Aberlour’s shoulder.
