November 21, 2020—Tel-Aviv, Israel—The Next Day #6
“You won’t die,” Logan reiterated with heightened intensity. He gently grabbed Adrian’s face, compelling him to meet his gaze. “You won’t die, Adrian. Do you hear me? You’re going to be fine. We’ll have forever. We’ll be together, and it’ll be amazing. I promise you that.”
“Don’t make promises you cannot keep,” Adrian pleaded.
“I will keep that promise,” Logan replied fiercely, his voice quaking as tears streamed down his cheeks.
Adrian’s eyes dropped, his voice trembling with pain.
“Logan… you’re giving me the worst thing a dying man can get.
” his voice faltered, stripped to the bone.
“You’re giving me a glimpse of what I could have had, what I could have been…
and it’s something I’ll never get. You’ve made me hate this disease.
I’d accepted it. I’d made peace with the fact that I was going to die.
And now you’re here, and it feels like the universe is just dangling what I can’t have in front of me. ”
His chest heaved as he took in a ragged breath.
“I don’t want to die, Lo.” He confessed silently, almost soundlessly, the terse whisper revealing the truth he had long kept shrouded in silence.
He had believed he was at peace with fate, yet the weight of reality pressed upon him once more.
“But I don’t want to spend my last days suffering in a hospital either.
I want to live—really live. And this cancer…
It’s going to take everything away, even you. ”
Logan’s eyes burned with unshed tears as the old ones marked his cheeks, but his resolve didn’t vacillate. “Adrian, trust me,” he said softly, his hands still cradling Adrian’s face. “You’re going to be fine. We’ll both be fine.”
Adrian looked at him hopelessly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Wouldn’t it be enough… if we spent those six months together? If I could just have that with you?”
“It’d be more than enough for me,” Logan admitted, his voice cracking slightly. “But no. I won’t let you go without a fight. If you die, Adrian… I die.”
It was peculiar how Logan simultaneously mended his wounds and shattered his heart; a paradox Adrian had never conceived of until that very moment.
He reached up, running his fingers through Logan’s soft, silky hair, strands of molten sand slipping gently between his fingers, drawing him close.
“Okay, Lo. You win. You knew I couldn’t say no to you.
I’ll do it. I’ll try the treatments. But only on one condition. ”
Logan’s face lit up with a beaming smile that made Adrian’s heart ache in the most bittersweet way. It was a smile so full of life and love that Adrian wanted to stay alive just to see it again and again.
Only now, in Logan’s presence again, did Adrian truly grasp the depth of his own sorrow. He had felt it, yes—the weight of it pressing down over the years—but never understood how far he had fallen.
The chasms his soul had slipped into were darker than he’d known, vast and endless once its other half—once Logan—had been torn away.
How had he survived without that light? No wonder his body had turned against him. No wonder he had withered.
His heart, stripped of its axis, had collapsed inward.
Could a man grow ill from heartache? Could grief hollow out a body the way it hollows out a life?
Now he knew the answer.
It was yes.
He was not just sick; he had been starving. Starving for the warmth of Logan’s voice, the gravity of his presence, the tether that had once kept Adrian from drifting too far into the dark.
“Lay it on me,” Logan said eagerly.
Adrian’s expression grew serious, his fingers still threading through Logan’s hair.
“If the treatments don’t work—if they kill me—you have to promise me something.
You have to keep living, Logan. I’m only doing this because you tied your life to mine.
If it doesn’t work, you need to let go. You need to move on. Promise me that.”
Logan’s smile faltered, his gaze searching Adrian’s. The room seemed to grow quieter as the weight of Adrian’s words sank in. Logan didn’t answer immediately, and Adrian leaned back slightly, his eyes locking onto Logan’s with an unyielding intensity.
“Lo,” Adrian said again, his voice firmer now. “Promise me.” He ran his thumb softly over Logan’s temple, sensing the tension in his jaw, as his silver eyes filled with emotion.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Logan nodded, his voice barely above a whisper, “promise,” he uttered, though the word seemed to tear something from him. “I promise.”
And with that, Logan dissolved into him, drawing Adrian into his embrace and clutching him as fiercely as the moment demanded.
The edges of reality blurred and faded, yet the richness of shadows deepened, embraced by the warmth of Adrian’s body that seeped into him like a nourishing tide.
His fingers traced the length of Adrian’s flowing hair, while the faint, grounding scratch of stubbled skin whispered memories of solidity.
This fragment of what had been lost brought serenity to his restless soul, erasing the chaos they endured and gently guiding the broken pieces back to wholeness.
It was proof that forgiveness was not just a word but a pulse, a breath, a chance.
Adrian forgave him.
For so long, Logan had lived inside a prison built of his own making.
Each brick was a whispered lie, laid carefully by the voice of his self-doubt.
He could never forgive you. You hurt him too deeply.
You don’t deserve this. Those lies had become a constant murmur beneath his thoughts, a slow drip of poison.
He had believed them, let them shape his world until all he could see were the walls he had built from the shadows of his mistakes.
But here, in the dim glow of the room, those shadows seemed to retreat, the bricks began to crack with a gentle patience, hairline creaks like veins winding around each form, releasing particles into the air, dust settling into quiet memory.
Adrian’s fingertips drifted through his hair, slow and tender, tracing silent lines of comfort and trust. Logan closed his eyes, each nerve attuned to the rhythm of Adrian’s breathing, to the delicate, unspoken symphony of forgiveness echoing softly between them.
He had braced himself for a storm—anger, hurt, the finality of a closed door.
And, at first, the storm had come. The moment Adrian saw him, Logan had felt the sharp sting of every emotion he deserved—rage, betrayal, the raw ache of a wound torn open again.
But storms, even the fiercest ones, cannot rage forever.
Adrian’s anger cracked, revealing the raw, trembling hurt beneath.
Logan watched as the fury softened, as the walls came down, leaving behind only the fragile truth of what lay beneath the wreckage.
And then forgiveness moved in quietly, unexpected but undeniable, softening the sharp ache between them, disintegrating the wall Logan had built in his own mind.
Logan’s lips grazed the curve of Adrian’s shoulder, his breath catching in a jagged, broken sound that fractured the silence around them.
The voice of his doubt still lingered, a ghost at the edge of the room, whispering its old poison.
This isn’t real. He’ll change his mind. You’ll lose him again.
But now, with Adrian’s warmth against him, with the steady heartbeat beneath his palm, Logan gazed between the creaks, letting the truth rise above the lies.
Adrian had forgiven him. And they were here—tangled together not just in body but in the fragile, luminous promise of a new beginning.
Logan leaned back slightly, looking into Adrian’s eyes, wanting so badly to close the space between them and kiss him. But he stopped himself. He couldn’t, not yet. Not when he had only just begun to make things right.
“Lo,” Adrian breathed, his voice was a melody that sent shivers down Logan’s spine. “I’m sorry.”
Logan grimaced, confusion coloring his face. “What?” he asked, his brow furrowing. “What could you possibly have to be sorry for?”
Adrian’s eyes dropped, his hand falling from Logan’s hair as he drew a shaky breath. “At your wedding… I told you I wished I’d walked away from you that day.” His voice was quiet, filled with pain. “But it was a lie. My heart was broken when I said it, and my mind was at its breaking point, too.”
Logan gently cupped Adrian’s face, tilting it back up so their eyes met. Adrian’s gaze was tortured, his emotions laid bare, and Logan could see that there was more he needed to say.
Adrian exhaled, his words trembling. “My broken heart, Logan, taught me the most. It taught me what wonders you could bring into my life. It taught me how to exist without you, even though every part of me didn’t want to.
And those broken pieces, they’re what sent me to find you, to fight for you.
Because my heart… it needs you. It’s always needed you.
No matter how much it hurt, I wouldn’t change a thing.
Not one moment. And I hated myself for saying I would.
The only thing I’d do differently is hold you tighter that night.
Make it last longer. Never sleep. Just talk to you until morning, because I should have known how much you were struggling. ”
A painful knot formed in his chest at Adrian’s words.
“Adrian,” he whispered, his voice raw. “How could you have known? Don’t blame yourself for something you couldn’t possibly have understood.
I wouldn’t change a thing, either. I just wish I’d woken you up that morning and told you everything.
You would’ve understood. You always did.
” He pulled Adrian into another hug, holding him close, as if trying to shield him from all the pain of the past.