Page 54 of If Cain Were Able

Basking in our knowledge of the boys we were while acquainting ourselves with the men we’ve become. In each other’s presence for twenty-four hours a day, present for every mood swing, and every high and every low that comes with healing, a shift takes place.

Until one day, I can’t stand to look at the circled date on the fridge calendar.

My three-month follow-up appointment and the deadline for Patrick’s remote working allowance.

“What are we doing, Pat?” I ask, the nickname just flying out. I rarely, bordering on never, call him Pat.

We’re sitting on the couch, my legs across his lap as I study patient charts, trying to stay up-to-date on how everyone is doing while Patrick clicks away on his laptop, which is currently perched on my shins.

“What do you mean?” he asks, glossing over the nickname. For some reason, that creates a pinching sensation in my chest.

I’m tired of beating around the bush, saying everything with our actions and nothing with our words.

New for me, I know.

“We’re in our mid-forties. We’ve been playing house for three months. We both know I don’t need the help for daily tasks anymore, but neither of us is addressing it, and we’re running out of time.”

Patrick goes a little pale.

“I’ll go if you’re ready for me to leave.”

“That’s just it, though. I’m not. And I don’t think you are, either.” He stays silent. “Are you?” I ask.

“No,” he finally whispers, closing his eyes and his laptop, like the truth pains him. But then his eyes flash open, and he pushes my legs off his so he can stand and pace the living room. “But it doesn’t matter, does it?” he asks, looking down at his keyboard. “Despite growing closer over the past couple of months, you still don’t do relationships. You still aren’t able to give me what I need, Cain.”

“So, you’re saying I can’t change?” I argue, sitting up.

“No,” he sighs in frustration. “I’m just saying I know you.”

“Well, regardless of what you think you know, you aren’t just an easy lay to me. You never were. You fed me in ways no one else could, and it wasn’t until I lost you that I realized it. But I was too fucking stubborn to do anything about it back then.”

“And now?” Patrick asks as I slide my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him toward me.

“Now, it seems getting shot put some things into perspective for me.”

“Like what?” His gaze latches onto my lips as he talks. I can tell he’s trying to keep the hope out of his voice, but he can’t keep it out of his eyes.

I lean in and brush a kiss across his lips.

“Like maybe I don’t want this to end. Like maybe I’m tired of always being alone. Like maybe I don’t want to keep up the ruse that I don’t give a shit about anything,” I admit, tracing the lip I just kissed with my thumb.

“You can’t just throw something like that out there, Cain. You don’t understand the damage it causes me…the damage it has caused me…the damage I’ve caused to others because of you.”

I turn his head to the side and tilt it so I have better access to his neck as I trail kisses along the column of flesh before pulling away and baring my soul.

“I’m not just throwing it out there, Patrick. It’s all I’ve been thinking about since we came home from the hospital. I spent our years apart trying to recreate the thing we once had. As it turns out, it can’t be recreated with anyone but you. I’m selfish, demanding, and needy in the worst ways. I’m somehow both overly confident and incredibly insecure. I’ve come to realize I masked that insecurity with the egotistical confidence I’m now known for. Fortunately, it worked for me professionally, but it’s stunted my ability to form attachments or engage in meaningful relationships. Except with you. It’s always you. It’s only you. You’ve seen the absolute worst of me, and yet here you are, nursing me back to health.”

“Here I am,” he whispers.

“So, what do you say? Is it too late? Have I caused too much damage?”

Swallowing hard, Patrick looks me dead in the eye and says, “Probably…but I still want you.”

Capturing his mouth in a kiss softer than any I’ve ever given anyone, I feel his lips curl into a smile. Pulling back, I search his eyes.

“What?”

“Don’t go easy on me now.”