Chapter 24
the twenty fourth chapter
MARCO
I switch my phone to silent.
Sam and I have only met five or six times in person.
But it’s getting serious.
My whirlwind schedule only allows me to carve out brief moments of relief. Maybe once a week, sometimes twice.
I never tell anyone from work where I’m going, obviously.
They wouldn’t understand.
Some things are best kept discreet.
Still, I’m nervous as I make my way up the stairs.
I’ve never gone this deep with someone before, not even Amos.
Sitting on the edge of the couch, I remove my shoes and blazer.
“You okay after last time?”
Sam’s eyes hold an intensity and level of care that makes me feel so seen.
“Twice in one week might have been too much. Not too raw?”
“It’s okay, I just… I really needed to see you,” I smile.
Laying back on the pillows, I loosen the collar of my shirt.
“You know how to handle my dark side. I feel like I can finally be myself.”
Sam steps closer, causing our shadows to merge.
“Things got pretty intense in here. I wasn’t sure if I pushed too hard?”
I shake my head.
“I asked you to. I needed it. And you always make sure I feel safe when we...”
“You can stop any time you need to, remember that.”
“I know. And I will, don’t worry.”
I try to lighten the mood.
“The grin on my face when I left on Tuesday? That makes it all worth it.”
“It does get easier, I promise,” she says.
Her voice is comforting.
“Exposure therapy can be uncomfortable. So can somatic healing. But I’m really proud of you for opening up to Amos about your dad. That must have taken a lot of courage.”
Her long silver hair and dimpled cheeks remind me of Beth.
Especially the way her eyes crinkle in the corners when she laughs.
“Still one thing I haven’t had the guts to tell him,” I confess.
“Oh?”
I fidget with the hem of my shirt, cheeks warming as I say it.
“I haven’t told him that I love him. That I’ve loved him for a while. Almost said it out loud when we were at the lake. I was so fucking close.”
“And when you’re ready, you will,” she offers warmly. “There’s no rush.”
I’ve been dying to say it.
I nearly told Amos the night of the storm, too.
But I can’t bear the thought of losing him.
Last time I loved someone this deeply, they left.
Having an unbreakable bond crumble is enough to make trust crumble too.
Saying those words makes it so much harder to watch someone leave.
So maybe if I remain on this side of the line, Amos will stay a little longer.
“What if he doesn’t feel the same?” I brood. “He hasn’t told me that he loves me yet either.” My anxiety stirs again. “What if he thinks I’m too intense? Every time I love someone, they pull away. Or they move to another country. Or they…”
Sam waits for me to finish the thought.
But I never do.
Olsen cheating on me is something I’ve tried really hard to forget.
“How about we cross that bridge when you come to it,” she says. “You’ll find the courage. I really do believe it will be worth it, Marco.”
“To cross the bridge?”
“Yes. From what you’ve told me so far, Amos cares about you very very much. And I admire that you’ve chosen to do these sessions with me, so that the heavy load you’re unpacking from your past doesn’t fall too much on his shoulders.”
“I need to protect him,” I sigh. “I can’t expect him to carry all of this.”
Fear surges through me, eyes brimming.
“If it’s too much for him, he might walk away.”
Sam leans forward to nudge the tissue box closer. Her face softens.
“I honestly believe that if Amos was the type of man who couldn’t handle your trauma, you’d already know by now. He’s stuck by you through it all.”
“He has,” I agree.
“The thing is, Marco… sometimes when we’re used to being abandoned, it can feel unsettling when somebody stays. Our fears twist our thoughts. And my job is to help you learn to tell the difference between truth and fear.”
Her words soothe my soul like medicine.
I rub a socked foot across the edge of the rug, keeping my head down as I speak.
“I think I’ve been using sex to try and balance out all the heavy conversations he’s put up with. Like a reward or something. As if I’m saying: Please don’t leave me, remember how good it feels to be around me, not just dark and somber all the time.”
Sam gives me a moment to reflect on this admission.
“That’s a really brave thing to acknowledge, Marco.
And it’s natural that you’d want to pull someone closer when you’re afraid that certain truths might lead to rejection.
But Amos isn’t ‘putting up with’ you. He’s cradling your pain.
He’s choosing to embrace every layer of you.
” An invisible pair of arms wrap around me, as though Amos is actually here.
I raise my head, feeling the tension leave my body.
Sam continues.
“Sharing vulnerable truths about your childhood doesn’t make you unlovable. It creates more room for love.”
“More room?”
A wave of hope flows through me.
“Much more,” she beams. “And I may be a little biased, but seeking out therapy is one of the kindest, most loving choices you can make for Amos. Because now you both get to experience the best version of you. A healed Marco who has the emotional capacity to love him fearlessly.”
“I want that,” I choke. “I want that so badly.”
Tears blur my vision as I stumble over the words. Sam rests a hand on my shoulder.
“If you keep making brave decisions, and continue doing the work, you’ll get there. You will. Are you ready to delve a little further?”
◆◆◆
August fades around the edges.
My phone has been ringing off the hook all week.
Always somebody needing something from me, tugging me in this direction or that.
I’m trying to get better at delegating.
Learning to set boundaries.
Learning to loosen up a bit.
Even when clients are relentless.
Marco, we've double booked the conference room.
Find a new venue or pay extra.
Marco, the client is demanding a full re-write of the menu.
Make it Paleo only.
Can your crew be here an hour earlier, but also leave by nine?
Can you sign off on this floor plan, even though half the props are yet to be sourced?
Yet in the midst of the mayhem, is Amos.
My calm oasis.
My haven in the storm.
I want to spoil him, to take him somewhere special.
I want to love him the way he deserves.
But life puts everything on pause sometimes.
Aside from family dinners and work, we’ve barely left my apartment this month.
We’ve both been so tired.
If snuggling under the covers was an Olympic sport, we’d both medal.
That part is lovely, I have to admit.
Being in Amos’s arms is the best feeling in the world.
I just… it’s becoming unbearable to drive away from him each morning.
After Olsen, I decided I’d never ever share a home with someone again.
This feels different though.
It’s so much easier with Amos.
We merge like a zip.
I wonder what he’d say if I suggested we get our own place together?
Maybe one of those loft style bungalows he loves.
Brick walls and exposed beams.
Amos’s dream home.
There I go again, daydreaming.
The other day I was scrolling gay weddings on Pinterest.
As an event planner, it’s obviously crossed my mind more than once.
Fuck, I’m so smitten.
How embarrassing.
Once again, I’m getting ahead of myself.
Take Amos on a holiday first, that’s what I’ll do.
Yes. I’m gonna surprise him somehow.
What we need is another romantic getaway.
That sweet man deserves a breather from all those long hours at the studio.
Perhaps a night or two in Byron Bay?
Or another trip to the lake?
◆◆◆
I flip through the pages of my planner.
August, August, August.
Every page, August.
Every page is bursting with responsibility.
Then September.
September is quieter.
Several pages have been paper-clipped together.
Must have been in a hurry when I attached a client's card during a meeting.
Releasing it, the planner falls open to Thursday.
September third.
My birthday.
Spilling across the margin, a cluster of tiny stars appear.
A delicate Milky Way, sketched carefully from corner to corner.
Recognition dawns slowly.
I know that wispy drawing style.
Amos, I smile.
You drew me a picture, baby?
Then I read the quote, whispering the words aloud.
“For I have loved the stars…”
A quiet smile curves on my lips.
“...too fondly to be fearful of the night.”
My darling man knows my heart even more intimately than his own.
I trace the galaxy lightly with my thumb.
Damn it.
I’m in so deep.
But I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Closing my eyes, the memory of the lake rises in my mind.
The cold night air, the crackle of the fire.
An enormous sky stretched above us.
Amos listened to my story with so much patience, so much kindness.
Not with pity, but with a quiet understanding.
He made me feel safe enough to be seen at my worst.
◆◆◆
Exhaling slowly, I ruminate on each word from the page.
To be fearful of the night.
There’s such a huge difference between night and darkness.
I only fear one.
I’ve spent years being afraid of a darkness that reaches far beyond sunset.
A darkness that has followed me long after my escape.
A fear that was instilled in me from birth.
That darkness still sharpens every noise and shadow years later.
It controls me far more than it should.
Sam has been helping a little.
A lot, actually.
The past is a door I’ve kept sealed.
A door that rarely opens.
I’ve curated a life and identity shaped by control and intention.
By careful decisions.
A life that shields me from pain and disappointment.
From vulnerability.
Until this year, it also shielded me from love.
But not anymore.
I have loved... too fondly to be fearful...
It isn’t Amos's job to heal my pain.
I don’t need a rescuer.
Still, it’s comforting to no longer face the world alone.
I’ve found refuge in inked arms that offer solace, not pain.
A home without tension or unpredictable rage.
A home filled with laughter and belonging.
And that kind of love is a catalyst for courage.
I take another peek at the stars in my planner.
Maybe it’s time.