Kade blinked against the sheen in his eyes.
“It looks like you didn’t need me though. You never needed me,” Killian said with a short laugh. It came out a bit more bitter than he’d intended. “This life, everything you’ve built for yourself here… It’s amazing, Kade. Truly. You’ve done so well for yourself.” Pushing to his feet, Killian smiled and put a hand on the nape of Kade’s neck. “I couldn’t be prouder. ”
Kade looked stricken. “That’s not true. How could you say I didn’t need you? There wasn’t a day, a minute, a second, that I didn’t need you here with me. I just had no choice but to learn to live without you.”
Killian reared back. Emotions he couldn’t name swirled in Killian’s chest. Unable to handle them, he turned away.
CHAPTER EIGHT
SUCCULENT AND SWEET, the meat of the fruit was refreshing as Killian popped a couple of grapes into his mouth. He spit out the seeds before moving down the line. Vine after vine, he clipped bunch after bunch; dropping each into a collection box at his feet.
It was mindless and backbreaking work. The last two nights had Killian going to bed sore and aching in ways he hadn’t in decades, the stiff cot in the barn not helping matters. Despite Kade’s offers, Killian had refused to stay in the house, in the room Pella rotted and died in. Refused to let Kade do the same when he offered Killian his own room instead.
Sleeping in the barn again wouldn’t kill him.
Killian and Kade had fallen into a practiced and familiar routine. Early mornings spent sleepily mucking out stalls and feeding the horses before heading into the vineyard to harvest. Waves of nostalgia flooded through him. It was just like when they were kids.
Usually only a row or two over, Kade worked quickly and efficiently, with the ease and familiarity of someone who had tended the vines for their entire life. He had teased Killian for how slow he’d been the first day back as he’d struggled to keepup.
The vines had grown nearly double the height and thickness since Killian had left, lush and green leaves amongst the bunches of ripe fruit. More evidence of how the kingdom had changed for the better after Fyar had taken the throne.
The harvests were more than double, but that also meant the labor matched it.
Killian went to bed sore, but he was thankful for the work. The long days made it easier for Killian to ignore how fast approaching his departure was.
It loomed over the both of them.
Killian saw it in the way that Kade withdrew into himself at night, gazing into the fire in silence. Killian saw it in the way Kade would sometimes just stare at him, like if he blinked or looked away, Killian would disappear.
“Stop eating all the grapes.” Kade popped up next to Killian and smacked the few bulbs right out of his hands.
Killian stared forlornly at the wasted fruit on the ground. “It was only a couple.”
“A couple every two steps,” retorted Kade. “I swear you’ve eaten a whole barrel these last few days. You’ll eat us out of the entire harvest if left unsupervised.”
Scoffing, Killian said, “I remember when I used to tell you the same thing. Never could keep your thieving hands outside the harvest barrels.”
Kade pursed his lips. “Who hasthieving handsnow?”
Killian laughed and squatted down, fiddling with the grapes in the barrel, popping another couple into his mouth just to spite Kade. He chewed obnoxiously loud. “Have me arrested then.”
Kade sighed heavily. “Whatever. Eat the whole lot for all I care.” He then dropped onto the ground and laid out. His long limbs spread haphazardly, his hair splayed out and his eyes closed, not caring how dirty he would get. “It’s not like it really matters to me anyway.”
“What does that mean?”
Kade just shook his head.
Letting himself drop fully onto the ground, Killian sat at Kade’s feet, leaning back on his hands and turning his face towards the summer sun. Killian focused on the sound of Kade breathing; long, slow breaths. The crickets chirped and the distant stream trickled over the rocks. No lingering threats. No fear of going home.
Paradise.
In another life, Killian could’ve had this every day. If he hadn’t broken that night, if he hadn’t snapped, if he’d waited Tyr and Pella out, he could’ve had this. A quiet life with Kade.
It was what he’d always wanted.
And yet, there was a dark cloud that hung above them, always threatening to break and steal away whatever fleeting happiness they’d found. One of Killian’s making.
“I miss her,” said Kade. It was the faintest whisper. “Is that crazy of me?”
