“Don’t make me do this alone, Trav,” Gage whispered, his brown eyes glittering with so much pain.
“I would never,” he promised, reaching for him again, holding on.
He knew he’d been distant the past few days, and he wouldn’t make excuses for it. He’d left the hard parts to Gage and he shouldn’t have, but rational thought hadn’t been an option. Anyone who knew him knew his emotions ran hot, and when they did, he tended to do the wrong thing. Gage of all people knew that about him.
In fact, it was Gage’s acceptance of him that made him love the man all the more.
Several hours later, after Travis had stopped by his parents’ house for the reception, listened while people shared stories of how they knew Kylie, how she’d made their life a bit brighter, Travis was glad to be home.
Gage and the kids had come home at his request, and he’d spent the past hour helping Gage get them all settled in. Maddox and Haden had gone right to sleep, the events of the past few days wearing them down. They were safe and warm in the comfort of their own beds, and Travis hoped they would sleep through the night because of it.
Kade, Avery, and Kate weren’t giving in quite so easily, but Travis didn’t mind. He had settled in his recliner with Avery and her little fuzzy blanket in his lap, while Kade sat on the floor with his video game controller in his hand. Kate was lying on the couch, her head on Gage’s thigh as she watched her brother. Every so often, Travis would look over, watch Gage as he lightly brushed Kate’s hair with his hand.
Travis focused on breathing, fought the urge to look toward the stairs, to wonder what Kylie was doing. On nights like this, she would often sneak upstairs for some quiet time of her own. She had loved to read, and whenever possible, she would carve out the time to enjoy a bath, a book, and a glass of wine.
Never again.
He felt the emotion bubble in his chest, but he held it back. He did not want the kids to see him fall apart. This was hard enough on them; he did not need to make it worse. But even as he glanced from one kid to the next, he couldn’t help but think that this was what Kylie had built. This family … this was all her. And now she wasn’t here with them.
Minutes ticked by as they remained where they were. Kate and Avery didn’t last long, falling asleep with nothing to keep them preoccupied. It wasn’t until Kade reclined on the floor that Travis decided it was time for them all to get up to their beds. They’d had a long, emotional day and they needed to sleep.
With Gage’s help, they got the kids tucked in, and when Travis returned downstairs, it was to find Gage in the kitchen. He was leaning back against the counter, a glass of scotch in his hand. When he saw Travis, he picked up another, handed it over.
Travis took it, swallowed a sip, then met Gage’s eyes. “I’m sorry about the past few days.”
Gage nodded, took a drink.
Travis knew that wasn’t forgiveness, because his actions were unforgivable. He’d left Gage alone to deal with the hard parts while he sulked here in this cold, lonely house, acting as though he was the only one affected by Kylie’s death.
Before he could offer more apologies or explain so Gage would understand his reasons, his husband finished his drink, set the glass in the sink, and walked past him.
Travis didn’t turn around, didn’t beg or plead. He deserved the cold shoulder from Gage. Hell, he deserved far worse than that.
The swinging door flapped shut upon Gage’s exit, making Travis close his eyes briefly, the sadness of it all filling him once more.
Rather than dwell on it, Travis finished his drink, washed the dirty glasses, and put them back in the cupboard. He checked the contents of the refrigerator, made a note on the grocery list, and planned out the kids’ breakfast for the morning. It was important to get them back into a routine and Travis wanted to be ready.
With nothing left to do, Travis forced himself to go to bed, flipping off the lights in the house on the way to the main-floor guest room. Aside from taking the kids to bed earlier, Travis hadn’t been upstairs, and for now, he intended to keep it that way. He knew he wasn’t strong enough to handle seeing his bedroom or to smell Kylie’s lingering perfume.
After pulling off his boots and socks, removing his jeans, he fell back in the bed wearing his boxers and T-shirt. Because he hadn’t bothered turning on the lamp, he was forced to lie in the dark room, staring up at the ceiling and the dim lines formed by the porch light shining in through the window.
Sleep didn’t come, but Travis didn’t expect it to. His brain wouldn’t shut off, his thoughts of the day at the park, the horrific scene that had ended the world as he knew it.
He had no idea how long he’d been there when he heard the light squeak of the door opening. When he lifted his head, he thought he would see Kate or maybe Kade needing him to tuck them back in. His kids weren’t standing in the doorway though.
“Everything all right?” Travis pushed himself up onto his elbows, watching Gage standing there, backlit from the light in the foyer.
“No,” he said simply, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.
Travis was frozen in place. On one hand, he was grateful Gage had come to him because he needed the comfort even if he didn’t deserve it. But at the same time, he was terrified Gage was going to finally lay the blame at Travis’s feet, where it belonged.
He held his breath, waiting to see which direction Gage was going with this.
He didn’t have to wait long when Gage moved closer, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor. The next to go were his sweatpants, and then Gage was crawling over Travis, his hard, warm body a balm to Travis’s aching soul.
“I need you,” Gage whispered softly, and Travis could hear the tears in his voice.
Travis cupped his face. “I need you, too.”
