Chapter 11
Winter came and went in the blink of an eye.
The next one did too, and so did the one after that.
Patrick tried to cling to those cold, bitter months for as long as he could, but they always seemed to slip right between his fingers like sand.
Goodbyes never got any easier either. In fact, they got a whole lot harder each time.
Patrick held on a li’l longer, a li’l tighter, prayin’, hopin’ Nash wouldn’t go, wouldn’t leave him again.
He did though. Time after time, leavin’ Patrick hurtin’ so awful he wished he hated Nash, but that would make him a liar, and he was raised better than that.
Sometimes in his dreams, he’d hear Nash’s voice and wake up hurtin’ worse than when he’d gone to bed.
Patrick didn’t sleep much because of that.
Found himself down at Broken Spoke more and more frequently, havin’ glass after glass of bottom shelf whiskey 'til the lights blurred together and the world tilted beneath his feet. The hangovers made his head ache so bad he got nauseous, but it was the only thing that distracted him from that hollow space sittin’ in the center of his chest.
“C’mon, Pat.” LeeAnne’s muddled voice broke through Patrick’s thoughts. “Let’s get you back home.”
When had LeeAnne get there? Patrick blinked slowly.
How long had he been there? Had he paid yet?
His thoughts sloshed ‘round his head as LeeAnne pulled him off the barstool. He swayed then leaned against LeeAnne, restin’ his head on top of hers.
“Hee”—Patrick hiccuped—“comes back in twooo”—he tripped over his feet and giggled softly—“weeks, Lee.
‘Mmm gonna be so happy when I see him again.
Juush you wait and see. ‘M gonna tell ‘im I love ‘im. Cuz I do. I love that boy, Lee.”
“You’re drunk, Pat.” LeeAnne sighed and dragged him out to her truck.
“Don’ matter. Cuz guess what.” He tried to touch her nose and missed. “‘M still gonna love him even when I ain’t drunk no more.”
LeeAnne wrestled him into her truck, fastenin’ his seatbelt for him as though he was a toddler. “I’ve seen you mope over that boy for four years.” She looked at him like he was a lost, kicked puppy. “And I’ll probably see you do it for another ten. You ain’t made your choice yet.”
Patrick furrowed his eyebrows. “I have. ‘M gonna tell him the truth.”
She smiled sadly and patted his chest. “We’ll see about that. Let’s get you home.”
He faded in and out of consciousness the whole way back to the ranch.
LeeAnne swore under her breath as she tried to keep him from fallin’ flat on his face between the truck and his bedroom.
He mumbled out an almost incoherent you’ll see; Imma tell him as he crawled into bed, clothes and all still on.