Chapter 24 #2
Time to face the shadows that have shaped me.
Time to stop looking over my shoulder.
Time to lay the past to rest, so I can finally be at peace.
Amos has given me something rare and precious.
The feeling of being embraced exactly as I am.
I want to match that depth.
To heal the parts of myself that still carry fear.
To be the love-you-without-holding-back Marco that Amos deserves.
◆◆◆
The boy who once walked away was brave.
Is he brave enough to go back?
The thought makes my stomach tighten.
My monster still looms over me.
Could I really walk through that door again?
Not as a child, but as a man.
Perhaps it’s time to reclaim what was stolen.
My confidence.
My innocence.
My relationship with mum.
I let the possibility ferment in my mind for a few days.
“Something on your mind, my love?” Amos asks. “You seem restless.”
“I'm just tired,” I reply.
Tired in more ways than one.
Tired of living on edge all the time.
Tired of spiralling during thunder storms.
Tired of blocking out the noise in my mind.
Tired of the nightmares that ambush my sleep.
Tired of burdening my darling with my past.
◆◆◆
Would I prefer a soothing beachy escape?
Obviously.
One thousand times, yes.
But perhaps a healing road trip is a deeper kind of I Love You?
I will do this for my mum, and for little Mark.
I’ll do it for the Marco that Beth believes in.
And I’ll do it for the man I adore.
When would we find the time though?
A trip like that will require at least a week, maybe more.
Opening my laptop, a calendar fills the screen.
I imagine giving my mother a hug now that I’m taller than her.
What if she doesn’t want a hug?
What if she’s still mad that I abandoned her?
I was the only one who’d ever tried to shield her from those fists.
And I left her there to fend for herself.
But what if she does want a hug?
What if she’s been hugging pillows for eleven years just like I have?
Both of us, whispering endless apologies to the sky.
September third is only ten days from now.
Do I dare?
Is it even possible with my chaotic schedule?
Maybe I could take Amos to meet Beth while we’re out that way.
At least that part feels lighter.
Something to look forward to.
I begin shuffling things around.
Appointments are shifted.
Emails are sent, tasks reassigned.
Soon an entire ten day stretch has been cleared piece by piece.
It feels reckless, strange, exhilarating.
When I finally close the laptop, the room has softened somehow.
But I know that if I sit alone with the idea, I’ll talk myself out of it.
So I grab a suitcase and start packing.
A few clothes.
My phone charger.
A tattered photo of me and Mum.
And the pocket knife I keep under my bed for protection.
◆◆◆
By the time I step out the door, dusk has settled over the city.
It’s just after nine when I reach his front door.
I pause outside for a moment, shadowed by the weight of my decision.
My heart is beating harder than it should.
A heavy sigh escapes me.
Inside the apartment I hear movement.
The soft sound of bare feet crossing the floor.
Before I can insert my key, the door opens.
Amos stands there looking gorgeous in a loose t-shirt and grey shorts.
His hair is slightly messy, as though he’s run a hand through it absentmindedly.
“I know that sigh,” he smiles. “Bet I could recognise it while blindfolded.”
He curves an arm around me.
“Come snuggle on the couch.”
We step inside and he nudges the door closed with his foot.
He eyes my suitcase with curiosity.
Not the usual overnight duffel.
“Moving in?” he grins.
“Careful what you wish for,” I flirt.
He lifts me onto the table before I can object.
“I wouldn’t say no.”
“You wouldn’t?”
“If you can handle pants on the floor, and a jungle of leafy house plants with names.”
“I’m rather fond of your pants being on the floor,” I muse.
“Oh?”
“Especially when I put them there.”
I sink into his embrace for a moment.
Amos always hugs like he means it.
Steady, warm, and grounding.
“How was your session with Sam this morning?” he asks.
“Intense, as always. But worth it.”
“It’s helping, right?”
I nod.
“Good.”
His lips are soft against mine.
“I found your stars the other day,” I whisper.
His mouth twists slightly.
“You did?”
“And the words,” I sigh. “They’ve been echoing in my mind all week.”
Amos’s eyes melt into mine.
It gives me the courage to say it out loud.
“I think I'm ready to go back. To Jundah.”
The words settle quietly between us.
“Baby…”
Pride glows fiercely in his heart. I can see it on his face.
“I swore I’d never return. But when I read that quote again this morning…”
My voice tapers as hope collides with fear.
His hands slide gently around my hips.
“I’m still scared. I'm still that boy. And I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”
The warmth of his cheek is soft on my forehead.
“That’s a big step,” he murmurs.
“Absolutely terrifying,” I laugh.
“Most important decisions are,” he reminds me.
I hesitate for a moment.
“I can't walk through that door without...”
He finishes my sentence with a kiss.
“I'll be right by your side.”
I hold his gaze for a moment.
“Even if the worst happens?”
“No matter what.”
◆◆◆
He scoops me up and carries me to the couch.
Removing my shoes, he shoves a hoodie and paperback to the floor.
Curled up on his chest, I listen to his heartbeat.
The solid rhythm soothes me every time I hear it.
“We’ll need more than a few days,” I say.
“You know I'll clear the books for you,” he whispers. “Just say the word.”
“And this isn't a relaxing tropical resort we're talking about.”
“I've been to Uluru,” he says proudly. “And I’ve watched heaps of McLeod’s Daughters with Talia and Mum. I'm sure I can handle the outback for a few days.”
I shift onto my side.
“Mr Vale,” I smile fondly. “The real outback is more like…”
“Crocodile Dundee?”
“Are you Mick or Sue?”
“Definitely Sue,” he decides.
I roll my eyes.
“I think I need to prep you thoroughly before you agree to this.”
“Lay it on me then,” he grins.
“For a start, I’m not even sure where we’d sleep. We can’t stay with my parents. He probably won’t even let me in the door.”
My baby whips out his phone.
“Jundah Hotel,” he announces triumphantly.
Then he scrolls further.
“Oh... it's a pub.”
“The pub where my dad spends most of his waking hours.”
“They have a camping ground nearby,” he says.
“Maybe,” I shrug. “I guess we can hire a donga if you’re keen.”
“What the heck is a donga?” he asks with mild suspicion. “Do I want to know?”
“A metal box with a bed in it. No bathroom. And this isn't the kind of town that holds pride parades. We’d cop less judgement and gossip if we rented two and slept separately.”
The reality of that sits between us for a moment.
“We could always pitch a tent,” he suggests. “In a field somewhere.”
“You own a tent?”
He opens his mouth to speak, then pauses.
I take that as a no, but it’s sweet of him to make an effort.
“The thing about tiny isolated communities is, most of these people have lived there their entire lives. They don’t like… different.”
“You think they’ll judge you?”
“Many of them already do. Everyone knows everyone else’s business. We’ll stand out like sore thumbs.”
“You can't scare me, you know.” He cups a hand beneath my face. “There's nothing that could scare me more than Vonnie James.”
“I reckon I could scare you,” I laugh.
“Try me.”
“You want a list of every reason a city boy would squirm in a town that small?”
“I dare you.”
“Fine. Brace yourself,” I smirk.
“I’ll hold up a finger every time I get nervous,” Amos decides.
He starts with a closed fist.
I'm not gonna sugar coat this. He deserves to know.
◆◆◆
“Driving that far West? There are warning signs on the highway telling people not to go any further unless they have sufficient food, water, spare tyres and gas. The road in and out has cattle bars and is only wide enough for one vehicle at a time.”
Amos tilts his head slightly. But his hand doesn’t budge.
“Actually, baby… is it okay if we take your ute?”
“Yeah, why?”
“My car screams ‘city wanker’ even more than our clothes and shoes do.”
“Okay.”
I twist a curl around my finger.
“Maybe I should get a haircut before I see Mum again. I wonder if Josie is free...” I open a tab on my phone. “We won’t get a signal out there, by the way. Not on our network. And they only have one phone box.”
“One?”
“One tiny store too. No banks,” I continue.
“Okay.”
He really isn’t scared yet?
“No oat milk flat whites.”
He raises a pinky finger.
“No wifi, unless you have a satellite dish. No gym. No shopping centre. No supermarket.”
Two more fingers raise.
“What do people eat?”
“The roadhouse sells a few excessively priced things,” I explain. “Or people grow their own.”
“No pizza delivery, I’m guessing?”
He gives me a wink.
But I keep going. I’m on a roll.
“No dentist, no high school, hospital, or footpaths.”
He remains stoic.
“No traffic lights or hair salon. No proper servo, and no buses.”
“Shit,” he laughs.
“But they do have two tiny churches.”
“Two seems excessive,” he smirks.
“Are you Catholic or Anglican?” I tease.
Amos kisses me gently on the hand.
“I only worship you, you know that.”
I slip a hand beneath his shirt.
This patient man has never wavered, despite every time I’ve tried to give him an out.
“You really don't scare easily, do you?” I laugh.
“Catholics can be scary,” he admits, wrestling me onto my back. “And nice try with your list of cons. But I'm not changing my mind, okay? I won’t let you face him on your own.”
“No?”
“Not a chance. Your shadows are my shadows.”