Epilogue
Oren woke up, as he often did, because he needed to pee. Once awake, he discovered little Oren had crawled into bed between them. He and Jackson curled towards him like protecting brackets; his and Jackson’s fingers entwined across the boy’s narrow waist.
A slight breeze sent the fragrance of night-blooming jasmine in through the open windows; the scent covered the three of them like a favorite old blanket.
Oren raised his hand up as if to catch the breeze.
He lowered his hand back down and fought the urge to pee, hoping to settle back into sleep.
Here we are, he thought, lying in the dark.
This is where we belong. In this place they unexpectedly found themselves, there was laughter and love and a rather plodding domesticity.
Claude had been right; their love for each other hadn’t been destroyed.
It had merely gone into hiding like the sun at dusk waiting for a new day when it would reclaim its place in the firmament and shine once again.
It occurred to him that this was it, that this was everything, and realizing he would not change anything about their lives, that he couldn’t wish for more, Oren drifted into sleep. Just before he fell fully asleep, he thought: I must call Claude.