Fear of Flying

21. Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

Drew

After Zach had finished getting ready for bed, and after they’d snuggled back up under the covers wearing only their boxer briefs, and after they’d continued talking for at least another hour, it was definitely past time for them to go to sleep. But they both couldn’t seem to get enough of each other, just talking about all sorts of things—things that seemed inconsequential in the grand scheme of existence but that made Drew fall even more in love with Zach. The more he learned about Zach—who he was, his likes and dislikes, his sense of humor, his passions—the stronger Drew’s feelings grew.

And the stronger his feelings grew, the more he realized how freeing it all was. That realization had almost knocked the breath right out of him, except that Zach had been laughing about something at the time, and the sound of Zach’s laugh had anchored his heart there, steadying him.

Drew had never felt comfortable being himself, not even at home growing up, where his parents knew he was gay and loved him anyway, despite it all.

But Zach . . . Zach just loved him. Him .

“What is it?” Zach asked, his voice soft and curious .

Drew realized he’d been staring instead of listening, but his heart was so full of emotion, he’d gotten lost again. Always lost but always found. “You make me feel like I can fly,” he blurted out.

The slight crease that appeared in Zach’s brow made Drew’s breath catch, and for a second, he was worried that he’d said something wrong or too much, though they’d shared far more intimate moments than this. But Zach let out a short huff, and that gorgeous smile of his appeared.

“You know that’s not a compliment for someone who’s got a serious fear of flying, right?”

Drew reached up to rest his hand on Zach’s stubbled cheek and then ran his thumb along its slight roughness. “Well, coming from someone who dreams of flying like Superman, it’s like the best compliment,” he countered, his voice sounding thready even to his own ears.

“Apparently, it’s the safest way to travel,” Zach said, and he turned his head slightly to kiss Drew’s palm as a grin tugged at his lips.

“Statistically.” Drew nodded, feeling as though his heart might burst.

“At least in 1978,” Zach said, his eyes dancing with mirth, though there was a sliver of anxiety there too. “God, my pillow talk is really on point. Very sexy.” His gentle laugh sounded slightly self-conscious.

“So sexy.” Drew dragged his thumb along Zach’s cheek again, his heart almost aching. He wanted to tell Zach that everything he did was sexy. And beautiful. And amazing. Instead, he just leaned in to kiss him, capturing his lips in a slow and sensual caress, nothing urgent, but with enough heat simmering there under the surface to let Zach know that he was very much desirable .

Drew pulled back slowly and took one last look into Zach’s amazing eyes before he shifted onto his back and held his arms open for Zach. “C’mere.”

Without hesitation, Zach scooted closer, snuggling right into the crook of Drew’s shoulder, his leg hitching over Drew’s and his arm snaking around Drew’s torso. The movement was so automatic, so natural—like they’d been doing it for a lifetime already—that it almost startled Drew.

But before he could give the thought any purchase in his mind, Zach cracked a giant yawn—complete with vocals and everything—his jaw working against Drew’s bare chest.

Drew chuckled. “Tired there, champ?”

“Mm-hmm.” Zach nodded against him, and the breath from his hum of agreement tickled Drew’s skin. “You wore me out.”

Another chuckle escaped Drew, and Zach let out one of his own. Then they just lay there for moments longer, maybe several minutes even, in comfortable silence, Drew letting his fingers trace aimless patterns on Zach’s forearm.

“So, what was your mom going on about?” Though it was just a murmur, the volume of his voice was jarring after the silence. And until Zach shifted slightly, he realized he hadn’t even checked to see if Zach was still awake.

“Hmm?” Zach hummed sleepily.

“Sorry”—Drew let out a self-conscious huff and lowered his voice to a whisper—“I was wondering why your mom full-named you earlier. But it’s not—it’s not important. You go to sleep.”

Drew could feel Zach’s smile against his chest, but then he groaned a little as he gave Drew a gentle squeeze. “God, she wanted to know if you were coming to brunch this weekend.”

“Oh. Oh, I—”

Zach interrupted with a light, sleepy laugh and another squeeze. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I can stall her until next month.” His words were slow and quiet, and Drew was pretty sure Zach was only seconds away from sleep.

Drew felt guiltily grateful for it, though, because he was still unsure what his response would have been. He focused on the soft sound of Zach’s breathing as it grew deeper with each rise and fall of his chest. Though thinking about it kind of terrified him, Drew tried to imagine brunch with Zach’s family. He tried to imagine what it would be like, walking hand in hand with Zach into his parents’ backyard. If they were anything like Zach, there would be smiles and laughter and just—

His heart clenched, and he had to screw his eyes shut.

Drew wasn’t sure how to process any of the emotions or thoughts or feelings assaulting him, and he also felt that ripple of fear in his spine, now drawing taut and threatening to snap. He forced himself to take deep breaths, and he attempted to focus on the weight and warmth of the man in his arms. He tried for a moment to match Zach’s slow, rhythmic breathing, hoping to calm himself. But it only left him gasping for air as his body demanded a longer, deeper breath.

God, he didn’t want to wake Zach, but he just wanted— needed —to see his face.

Drew shifted slightly toward the nightstand, doing his best not to move too much, and grabbed hold of his phone. One-handed, he worked his fingers into the hand strap so he wouldn’t drop the phone and then swept his thumb on the screen to unlock it. The camera app took an agonizingly long second to open, and as Drew raised his arm a short distance above him, his heart started racing again.

He thumbed the screen to flip it to selfie mode, and when he saw the image of him and Zach on the display, he inhaled sharply, his heart stuttering. He’d had some sort of idea in his head what they looked like together, but the reality of it, the beauty of it—well, the beauty of it was Zach.

Zach and his peaceful face and dark eyelashes and the lock of hair that had fallen over his brow. And the way his mouth was just slightly open and the way his cheek was kinda smooshed against Drew’s chest.

It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Drew caught sight of his own face, his expression still showing hints of stress in the creases of his own brow. He closed his eyes and turned to press a kiss to Zach’s forehead, his brow creasing further, and he lingered there for a long moment, until his arm started tingling, reminding him it was still thrust in the air above them. He pressed another kiss to Zach’s brow, and on impulse, he snapped a picture in the same instant.

He wanted to remember this. Remind himself of this. He wanted to show Zach and have Zach whine about how ridiculous his sleep-face was, and all the while, he’d be secretly pleased by the fact that Drew had needed a picture.

Drew stared at his own face again, and he couldn’t get over how happy, how joyful, how carefree, how in love he looked. He smiled softly as his heart squeezed, then tilted his head until his temple was resting against the top of Zach’s head. And he snapped another picture, capturing the moment of perfection and everything he thought he’d never have.

Drew’s arm was almost numb with sleep, so he let it drop back to his side and rest atop the comforter. He closed his eyes once more to let the hum and tingle of the moment wash over him, and his next thought hit him with ferocity.

He wanted this.

He wanted to go to sleep like this every night and wake up like this every morning. And he wanted to feel this free, this loved all the time. God, he wanted it so badly his heart clenched, causing a deep ache that was part want and part grief because... because he wasn’t sure he could have this.

But dammit, he wanted this.

That tingle of fear still threatened at the base of his spine, but Drew shoved it away forcefully and went back to imagining what it would be like going to brunch at Zach’s parents’ house. To walk in, be greeted with open arms. Given what he’d overheard, he had to assume Zach’s mom and dad would be over the moon to meet Drew. They’d have mimosas, and Drew would laugh and gently admonish Zach’s mom for not making her only son his favorite food once a month. And they’d talk about life and love and the weather and... the future.

A future in which he and Zach were together.

His breath caught in his chest. It was surreal. Un real.

Except for the very real man in his arms and the very real thirty-six hours or so they’d spent together. And the very real way he had already fallen in love with him. Irrevocably, hopelessly in love.

He let his breath out slowly. Everything seemed too magical and fantastical to have been real, but he was a hundred percent sure he wasn’t hallucinating. So it had to be real.

It had to be real. And it could be real, this future.

Right?

Oh god. He almost laughed with relief. It’d been forever since he’d been hopeful about his future, and never once had that hopeful future included someone to love. Drew tightened his arm gently around Zach for just a moment and pressed another kiss to his forehead.

An almost silly amount of hope bloomed in his chest as his mind took off at a run. What should they do? Where would they live? Zach couldn’t move, not with the successful nonprofit he’d helped build from the ground up—and Drew wouldn’t ask that of him. So maybe that meant Drew would move to Albuquerque to be closer to Zach. And that was better. Better than Texas, right? Even better than Dallas, where it was supposed to be a bit more blue and a bit more inclusive.

He raised his phone once more, this time to run search after search after search. What job could Drew have there? How long would it take to drive there? Fly there? How difficult would it be to move there? What was the cost of living compared to Dallas—because surely it would be too soon and too presumptuous to just move in with Zach straightaway? Though perhaps he could wait to move until they were sure. Really sure. Sure that everything he’d seen in those pictures he’d just taken—everything they’d seemed to promise his heart—would come true.

It wasn’t until nearly two hours later, his arm numb from where Zach was lying on it and his thumb aching from one-handed scrolling and typing on his phone, that he realized all his hope had skittered away and been replaced with increasing anxiety and dread.

The cost of living was similar enough, maybe even a bit less in some areas. Depending on the route, it took about two hours to fly there and ten hours to drive it. Jobs? Well, family law jobs everywhere in the nation were never in short supply. There were a decent number of firms there, varying sizes, plenty to choose from, really. It was—

Drew screwed his eyes shut and finally let his hand and phone drop back to the comforter. His hand and wrist and fingers tingled as the blood started trickling back into his extremities. He tried to focus on that, the random scattering of uncomfortable pinpricks, and he was able to. For a minute.

But then the anxiety crept back in around the edges, and he wondered if this was what Zach felt when one of his anxiety attacks was starting—the tightening in his chest and shoulders and the sensation of angry bees buzzing just under his skin. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking about all the details all at once—and for some reason, the scarier details were screaming louder than the others.

Carefully, every nerve drawn taut, Drew extricated himself from Zach’s embrace so that his head fell gently to the pillow below when Drew’s arm was free. He slid out of bed, then turned back to look at Zach, still sleeping so peacefully, and his heart lurched along with his stomach.

A lump formed in his throat as he made his way over to the bathroom door to grab his robe. He slipped it on, wincing slightly at the cold, damp spots that still remained from after their swim earlier. It would have to do—he didn’t have anything other than his jeans and shirt from yesterday, that and a hastily sink-washed pair of borrowed pajama pants. With a halting sigh, he cinched the robe shut and went to sit in one of the armchairs next to the window in the corner of the room.

He shifted to face the heavy curtains, and with a shaky hand, pulled them back just a few inches. He craned his neck slightly to look out at the dark of night. They were high enough up on the eleventh floor that the lights of the parking lot didn’t provide adequate illumination to see everything clearly. What he could make out, though, were the hundreds upon hundreds of cars, buried in snow. With the storm having grounded everyone, it was hard to tell if this was long-term parking for the airport or something else—there were no tire tracks to be found, and snow drifts were piled high on and in-between every car.

Drew sighed quietly and dropped his hand back to his lap, letting the curtain fall back into place.

The New Mexico Bar had a reciprocity agreement with the Texas Bar. He’d known, of course, that several states had reciprocity with the Texas Bar, but he had never thought about moving before. Never thought about all the details and logistics that would come with maintaining his credentials in a new state.

The application for reciprocity seemed straightforward—rigorous and detailed, but simple enough. Twenty-five hundred dollars for the application. It was not an insignificant amount of money, considering the debt he still held in student loans, but it was reasonable.

But then there had been this Reddit thread where someone had mentioned that the OP had better be prepared to give a good reason for why they were moving from one jurisdiction to another, as well as find a way to let their new employer know they were in it for the long haul, committed to staying. And while that wasn’t exactly an issue, it’d been enough to spark a bit of panic in him.

So he’d delved deeper. But the words and phrases kept popping out at him.

Good moral character.

Which, fuck, wasn’t a problem in and of itself. Not really. He was a good person. But in Texas... when almost every damn lawyer he knew was a straight, privileged white man who always preached to “hate the sin, love the sinner” and spoke so freely and casually about what a mockery gay people made of marriage, especially when they came crawling in for a divorce...

Dammit, Drew was a good person. Better than any of them, surely. But what was he going to say to his current firm? What could he possibly tell them about why he was leaving? Would they let him be vague enough? Would he get the masculine shoulder punch and the “Aww, c’mon, Parker! Why you really leaving?” that previous former colleagues had gotten?

Could he escape without admitting to... “acts involving dishonesty, fraud, deceit, or misrepresentation”; “neglect of professional obligations”; “making of false statements, including omissions, on bar”; and “conduct that evidences current mental or emotional instability that may impair the ability to practice law”?

If any of his colleagues said anything, suspected anything about his real reason for leaving or even got pissed off for any reason, he could get flagged by the New Mexico Bar and then be subject to interviews, hearings, questions about his character and fitness.

The rational part of Drew tried to tell him that this was all nonsense. There was really no reason he’d get flagged on character and fitness, of all things. And it wasn’t legally required for him to disclose his sexuality. Yet all Drew could hear was his mother’s voice from the time he was little to when he was a teenager and even later.

Shh, sweetie, don’t say that out loud. You know it’s not safe.

It’s a phase, honey. You’ll grow out of it. Just try and hide it as best you can now.

Sweetie, don’t you think it’d be safer if you just pretended to like girls? You know how bullies are.

Drew, don’t argue with your momma! Texans like their guns and dislike... well, you know. You know I love you and just don’t want to see you get hurt.

There were more than that—a lifetime of them.

Drew sucked in a shuddering breath as quietly as he could, then found his gaze uncontrollably drawn to Zach. White sheets and a white comforter and white pillows, and a beautiful man tucked right in the middle of it all. Not that he could see more than the outline of his form, gentle curves under a thick bedspread.

It’d been so easy there in Zach’s arms to just let his imagination run away, let a fantasy build and build into the perfect narrative, the perfect life. Everything he’d ever wanted but thought he could never have. It was right there.

He was right there. His . . . boyfriend ?

All he had to do was get up and walk back over to him, climb back into bed, and gather him back into his arms. He could get a little sleep, maybe, before they had to get up and head to their new departure gate. Drew would help him survive the trip to Dallas, somehow manage to say goodbye for now, and do his best to assure Zach he’d survive the two-hour flight home to Albuquerque.

He’d drive home, collapse into bed, and text his heart out to his maybe-boyfriend so that Zach’s phone would explode with notifications when he toggled it off airplane mode, and it would make Zach laugh that amazing laugh and take his mind off his post-flight anxiety for a while.

Then Zach would call, and they’d talk and discuss their plans in more detail for Drew’s first trip to Albuquerque. And then... the possibilities were endless, the future hopeful and bright. All he had to do was get up and walk back over, climb back into bed, and gather Zach back into his arms.

Except his lungs were leaden, and he couldn’t breathe, let alone move. He knew without even trying that his arms wouldn’t push him up out of the chair and his legs wouldn’t walk him over to the bed. His hand flew up to cover his mouth, catching the sob before it made too loud a sound, and he felt the hot sting of tears as they blurred his view of Zach lying there in bed.

Fuck.

Goddammit.

His dream come true was right there . Only a few feet away, but he was being a goddamn coward. Petrified.

A small part of him had the urge to wake Zach up, feel the comfort and safety of his embrace, and see the truth of things in those eyes of his. Find just enough bravery to make things happen. But he couldn’t move. Wouldn’t move.

God, feeling like himself— truly himself—the last day and a half had been indescribable .

The idea of coming out? Terrifying.

Zach was worth it. No question. But it was a lot and all at once, after three decades of hiding. He was not at all confident in his ability to do it. In fact, he was having trouble even imagining what it would look like. So much of the man he’d become had been tied up in hiding who he really was.

He was going to have to go back into work next Monday—maybe even sooner, on Friday—and just be regular Drew again. The experienced lawyer with a serious lack of career ambition who played straight so well that sometimes even the people who did know forgot he was gay. It was only his parents who knew, and his brother and his wife, but Drew’s sexuality was always...

Shit. To them, it was like something he used to do, an old hobby or a childhood sport.

They had no fucking clue he was holding it all inside all the time—and godddd—he hadn’t realized how truly exhausting it had been until now. Now that he was out and free—just within this little bubble, this strange and wonderful time and space that seemed to exist outside of real life, like he’d climbed into the wardrobe and emerged in Narnia.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? He couldn’t do both, couldn’t be both Drews. Both in and out of the closet. The worlds were too separate, too different, and Drew couldn’t see a way to combine them.

God, he wasn’t sure he’d fit back in the closet.

He could already feel how suffocating it would be to cram himself in again, but his life back home didn’t include his sexuality. It didn’t really allow for it.

Did that mean that all of this was just make-believe? Had he just fallen into this fantasy world for a fucking vacation? Leading Zach on and making him think that there could ever be an existence in which Drew Parker was out and proud and publicly in love with a man?

Sure, New Mexico and Albuquerque seemed more laid back, more accepting and inclusive. But that didn’t mean it would be easy or even possible.

Everything needed to change. And if that was true, had any of this been real?

Who exactly was Drew Parker?

Zach was clearly out and proud. He didn’t deserve a hidden relationship and stolen moments of intimacy. He deserved a partner who could give him everything, be everything. Zach would be better off without the struggle and the burden and the hidden personality that was Drew Parker.

Drew Parker was never going to get married. Drew Parker wasn’t out. Drew Parker was a divorce lawyer who saw day in and day out what a train wreck marriage could be, even between gay couples. So what was the point?

They hadn’t talked about it in as many words, but Drew knew without a doubt that Zach wanted a husband. He wanted a family. He wanted to live his life happy and carefree and in love. Drew took a deep, shaky breath, his heart squeezing painfully as he imagined it all for Zach. Everything—the husband, the house with a yard and a picket fence if they did those in New Mexico, the dog, and the two-point-five kids. He saw it all, and it made his heart so happy to see Zach so happy.

But Drew Parker wasn’t the man he saw with Zach.

Drew screwed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, and hot tears forced their way out and rolled down his cheeks. A small part of him, this urgent and desperate whisper in his mind, tried to make a case for staying. Zach would understand and he would help, it said. This was some strong, magical, indestructible love, it said .

But what if Drew was never okay with being out? What if he couldn’t get there, and he made Zach waste his time building a relationship that was doomed to fail from the start? They both were in their thirties already, for fuck’s sake. He couldn’t make Zach wait on him for just the possibility that a future together was written in the stars for them.

Fate. Destiny.

God, what if it was all true and he’d only just gotten this escape, this taste of heaven because it was better to have loved and lost? And there was someone so amazing and so right for Zach? If he stayed, if he tried but still couldn’t get it together, it wasn’t fair to Zach. Zach might miss out on meeting the man he was meant to spend the rest of his life with, and Drew would never forgive himself for standing in the way of Zach’s happiness.

If he left now, if he—Drew brought his fist to his mouth to stifle another sob. He was going to have to leave before Zach woke up. He’d never be able to say goodbye otherwise. And Zach wouldn’t understand that he deserved so much better, that he was better off without Drew.

Just the thought of Zach waking up to find him gone—oh god, it clenched at his heart so tightly it was impossible to breathe for a second. But it was better this way. It had to be this way.

Drew wasn’t sure how long he sat there in the chair, staring at Zach’s sleeping form through a tear-blurred gaze, his heart twisting in his chest and his breath hitching fitfully.

He planned it out in his mind—he’d grab his phone and bag and clothes and take them into the main room; he’d get dressed; and he’d leave. He’d walk out the door of the suite and make sure it shut silently behind him, sealing him off from his wonderful and heartbreaking dream come true, this thing that was surely only meant to be for a small moment in time .

So he did just that. And minutes later, he was halfway to the elevator when his chest lurched with a painful sob trying to claw its way out, and some force locked his feet in place for a terrible minute. Every last fiber of his being wanted to turn the fuck around and run back to Zach, to strip back down to his boxers and climb back into bed with him, holding him until he woke and their future together could begin.

But Drew knew it wouldn’t work. Couldn’t work. Zach deserved every single ounce of happiness in the world, and Drew wasn’t capable of giving it to him.

It was better this way. It had to be.