His Country

Epilogue

Aiden didn’t go to Everett and Billy’s wedding. Not really. He lingered in the tree line beyond the ceremony, Sugar panting at his side. In the shade of the trees, he couldn’t hear the words the officiant spoke. But he had never put much stock in words. Not when he could see the way Everett and Billy looked at each other.

Dressed in nice suits, they still looked at each other the way they did that first night. Aiden thought at the time it had looked like rain and light, but he realized that was probably what loved looked like.

Standing under an archway draped in lace, the view of Montana wildflowers in the background, even Aiden thought it was a nice ceremony. True to what Isaac said, it was intimate. Only thirty people were seated in white folding chairs, hands to chests and tears in eyes that were trained on the happy couple. Billy couldn’t stop holding Everett’s hand, bouncing on the balls of his feet as his smile brightened with each moment. Everett looked fond, holding Billy’s hand like it was precious.

Resting his head against the bark of a spindly trunk he breathed in the peaty scent. Carol must have blanketed the place in flowers—muted waves of pastels waved in the breeze as the officiant waxed poetic. Photographers discreetly dressed in black darted back and forth, capturing every moment.

Everett was famous and the world wanted to see him marry the first man of football. No doubt Aiden would see some of these pictures splashed across magazines at the supermarket checkout line.

He still felt a little bit of pain when looking at the couple. But it was a different kind of pain. One born from guilt and terrible decisions rather than bitterness. Aiden hadn’t spoken to either of them since the night Everett confronted him in the paddock. He didn’t know if he deserved to. Or what he would even say. Maybe someday he’d figure it out. Find the strength and the courage. The self-worth. But for now, he was happy for them. Truly, happy for them.

Every eye in the place was on the happy couple. With the exception of a bright pair of coffee-colored irises.

Their relationship would never look like the one draped in lace and wildflowers. Ethan and Aiden’s dates looked more like quiet nights watching bad TV or racing each other across the hills. Aiden reckoned there wasn’t a single trail in the area they hadn’t ridden together. Even Sugar had grown fond of this new person in their lives, appreciating the expensive orthopedic dog beds Ethan had all over his apartment and clinic. He even bought her expensive dog food. Aiden still snuck her bacon.

Ethan looked regal standing with Everett. He took his role as best man very seriously. But from the moment the ceremony started, his eyes had been on the shadow in the tree line.

He smiled secretively as he caught Aiden’s eye. With an elegant finger, he tapped just under his right eye.

I see you.

Ethan never stopped looking at him.

Later that evening when the reception was pulsing with bass and the guests were pleasantly drunk, bubbles of champagne dancing on their lips as they toasted the happy couple, Ethan found Aiden by the horses.

Tie loosened and vest unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, he leaned on the fence. Their elbows brushed, silence blooming between them.

There was probably something to be said about destiny. About the sweetest victories coming after the most arduous battles. Maybe everything he had gone through had brought him here, to this moment, with the setting sun in his eyes. Orange light rippling through the trees and splashing across the yearlings in the field. Ethan smelling like flowers and alcohol, shifting so that his pinky brushed against Aiden’s on the rusted fence.

He was an empty shell before. Ethan had shattered him so light could slip in through all the broken cracks. And where Aiden had thought only bitterness could flourish, life began. Slow, nourished by the ashes of who he used to be, a garden took life.

“You saved that tortoise.”

Ethan looked over his shoulder at Aiden.

“And you saved me too.”

A slow smile bloomed across Ethan’s handsome face. “I did.”

“You started healing me. Ripped off all my half-healed scabs and forced me to treat them. Then you started loving me.”

He turned to face Ethan, stepping into his space so he could rest his forehead on his. They breathed together. Ethan’s hands slipped around his waist, holding him close. Champagne fizzled on Aiden’s tongue when Ethan kissed him. A toast of their own private ceremony, celebrating the life that would come.

Once, Aiden had heard about God ignoring your prayers. Giving you what you needed rather than want you wanted. Sometimes it hurt, but in the end, it was the unanswered prayers you were most thankful for.

Maybe that’s why they called it Gods country.