Page 158

The hours-long drive from Seattle to Redding was filled with all sorts of moments: quiet ones, like when Bri was snoozing in her car seat; silly ones, like when Ash started an out-of-key sing-along to one of Bri’s favorite tunes and when Bri decided to tell them a story that started with “Once on a time!”; and joyful ones, like when Bri laughed so happy and free and when Ash smiled that huge, wide grin of his that lit up Cass’s whole heart.

All of those moments were mostly enough to drown out the negative threads trying to weave into Cass’s thoughts. Sort of.

Flickers still managed to sneak through. Especially when his phone buzzed with a message from his dad a little while after they crossed over the border into California, high up in the Siskiyous.

Almost home? Your mom misses you <3

And again a little while later, when Ash reached over and took his hand, then lifted it to kiss his knuckles, though why that moment carried hurt with it, Cass wasn’t really sure.

Maybe it was the reminder of the future he wanted so, so badly but just couldn’t get himself to see, even with how much he’d been trying.

They should talk about it, he knew. He’d reasoned it out in his head already, and that would be the smart, sensible thing to do—talk about it. But whenever he thought maybe he’d gathered enough courage to try, something stopped him. Ash’s smile or Bri’s laugh. Or that feeling of love and joy and acceptance that washed over him every time Ash squeezed hand.

He quickly realized how terrified he was to do anything that might jeopardize what they had.

So he’d pushed down the pain and uncertainty again, like he had the night before, and he’d tried to stay in the present instead. He’d smiled back. He’d laughed along with them. And when there was quiet, he’d forced his mind to go elsewhere—admiring the beautiful views outside as they drove through the towering mountains of southern Oregon and Northern California, reveling in the soft comfort of Ash’s thumb rubbing gently back and forth across his skin.

The drive itself was long but not bad, and Ash handled it better than either of them had expected. The last time Ash had made this specific drive had been immediately after news of his sister’s death, and so, they’d planned to switch off driving if it became too much or if Ash needed a break. He’d been okay enough, however. At one point, when Bri was napping, he’d talked quietly about the whole ordeal, recalling the pain, the exhaustion, the frantic energy accompanying a need to get down to California as quickly as possible to be there for Bri. He’d even admitted to listening to a voicemail from his sister on replay during the drive—a voicemail he said he still had saved on his phone. He was scared to delete it, scared to lose her voice, and he thought maybe one day he might share it with Bri, when he told her all about her mom and what an incredible woman she’d been.

The strength Ash showed only made Cass fall in love with him all over again. And made him feel even more like a coward.

By the time they pulled up along the curb outside Cass’s home, it was late afternoon, the sun still high up in the sky and the heat baking the inside of the car as soon as the engine cut. Bri whined from the back seat, probably grumpy and tired and in need of a diaper change, and so they wasted no time gathering her and their things to head inside.

Cool air met him as Cass opened the door, and familiar laughter traveled their way from what sounded like the kitchen. Something in Cass’s chest loosened, like there’d been a tension growing he hadn’t been aware of, and he breathed a sigh of relief and held the door open as Ash shuttled Bri inside.

“Mom, Dad, we’re home!” Cass called out, and in an instant, Bri copied him.

“We home, we home! Cass home!” she called, her grumpiness apparently forgotten. She squirmed around in Ash’s arms, wanting to be set down.

Ash laughed quietly. “Hang on, sweet girl, hang on. No running around, okay? You have to stay with me and Cass.”

Bri seemed about to protest, her face scrunching up. But then Cass’s parents came through the entryway leading into the kitchen, and instead, Bri squealed with delight and threw her arms out in greeting.

“Hi! We here! Cass home!”

The scene unfolded in front of Cass like a perfect fairy-tale reunion. Ash carefully set Bri down, and she bounded over to where Cass’s mom sat in her wheelchair. His dad stepped around to lift Bri up, gave her a hug, and placed her gently on his mom’s lap. There were more hugs, more greetings, and Bri jabbered on and on about this and that, her huge smile matched by the look of pure joy and adoration on Cass’s mom’s face. Ash set down the diaper bag and then stepped forward to greet Cass’s parents.

But Cass stood there, frozen, his feet glued to the floor. His heart simultaneously burst with love for everyone in the room—his parents, his boyfriend, the beautiful, innocent child he’d come to care for so much—and ached with an intense longing for this to be his, every day. A dread settled over him. It was, after all, impossible, he’d realized. A future with all of this couldn’t exist. The heaviness of those thoughts weighed more than any burden he’d ever tried to carry, and he swallowed hard and shook his head, trying to dislodge it.

He was catastrophizing, turning a precious moment into something foreboding, and all because he hadn’t had the courage yet to talk to his boyfriend about what they would do in the future.

Even though he recognized the dissonance, the absurdity of the pessimistic assumption that good things could not happen for him, he couldn’t shake the unease. His chest tightened in a painful way, and he forced a slow breath and then another, pasting a fake smile on his face as his dad stepped over to him.

They shared words. A greeting. A quick update on how Mom had been doing the last day—she was still tolerating her new medication well, and she’d enjoyed the outing they’d gone on this morning, when the weather had been cooler.

Everything was good. Everything was fine. It was more than fine, really.

Yet, as Cass finally convinced his feet to move so he could hug her and then get Ash’s and Bri’s stuff set up in the guest room down the hall, the pain in his chest persisted.

And he had no idea how to deal with it.

All throughout dinner—a hearty vegetarian recipe of black-bean stuffed peppers his parents had made together—Cass found himself clenching and unclenching his jaw, forcing a smile, and avoiding concerned looks from Ash. Cass offered to take care of the dishes so his parents could spend some time with Bri before she went to bed, and he hoped the mundaneness of the chore would help him find his footing and put his mind at ease.

It did the opposite, however. From out in the living room, he could hear Bri’s joyful chatter among the laughter and conversation. He heard Ash and his mom talking about Seattle and then about teaching as a profession, and everything should have felt even more right. It would have, actually, if not for the knot in his stomach continuing to tell him that this—this togetherness and full house, which was exactly what he’d always wanted—wouldn’t and couldn’t last.

He’d finally finished doing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen when he heard his dad’s familiar footsteps behind him. He pasted the same smile on his face that he’d been wearing all night, and he glanced back over his shoulder with a tip of his chin.

“Just done here. Everything good?” he asked, hanging the dish towel over the faucet and then turning around.