Chapter 38. Ethan
I'm shaking.
I can't stop shaking.
My heart is going a thousand miles an hour, and no matter how many techniques I try to calm myself down, nothing is working. The last half hour keeps playing on a loop in my head.
Griff's office.
The news.
You're being released in three months.
I couldn't breathe right when he said it.
"Dr. Nouha has already confirmed a position for you as a nursing assistant," Griff said.
"We'll move your competency exam up so you can finish your certification before release.
The clinical shifts you've already been doing can become paid shifts once you're cleared.
That means you can start saving immediately. "
I'd stared at him.
"You'll need a place to live. Whatever address you register will be your base during the first two years of supervision, so you won't be able to just move around whenever you want.
Travel won't be possible at first either, but in time, as long as you stay employed and out of trouble, you'll get more freedom. "
He'd paused.
"You will continue using Aspire's support system. First year you got mandatory therapy. And then, ongoing mental health support, employment assistance, whatever you need. You can always come to us. You won't be alone."
He said it in that technical way he probably uses with a dozen guys every year.
His green eyes were on mine, but I could barely process any of it.
Not when my heart was beating so fast I thought I might pass out right there in the chair.
How could I not?
My whole life is going to change.
I waited so long for this.
And I'm terrified of the exact thing I've been waiting for.
Fuck me.
I'm getting out in three months.
Liam's biggest fear is coming true.
Right now, when Tyler is here and better, I'm going to leave all of them.
Jack.
Miles.
Harry.
My friends.
Everything I've known in my adult life.
And on the other side, where am I even going to live?
My parents aren't taking me back. That much is certain.
Auntie probably would.
Probably.
But I haven't asked her, and I'm not going to decide that her home is mine just because I need somewhere to go.
I have to ask.
I have to make a plan.
Griff noticed the panic because Griff notices everything.
"It's going to be okay," he said. "I know it's scary. But this is your chance to start your life over. This here isn't a life, son. The world out there has a lot waiting for you."
I nodded.
"I'll see you later. Okay?"
I nodded again.
Now I walk back to the dorm.
We have a little time before MMA, which I usually use to work out with Liam.
He can't know yet.
I'm going to tell him, of course.
But at the right moment.
When I have more details.
Where I'm going to live. How many hours I'll be working. Whether I'll be able to come back and visit him. What's actually going to happen.
Right now isn't the time.
I force myself to stop shaking.
I open the door.
Liam is on my bed. Jack is there too, in his own bunk, talking to the air, the wall, the universe, the way he usually does.
"Hey, boss," Jack says when he sees me.
I have to act like everything is fine.
Otherwise, it's going to become a whole thing.
I nod at him.
"What are you even talking about over there?"
I go straight to Liam and sit down on the bed. He wraps his arms around my waist immediately, burying his face in my neck.
"I was telling Liam about the time my mom saved up for a whole year to take us to Cancun, and my cousin and I tried to pick up a sex worker. Except we both chickened out and ended up back in the hotel room taking care of ourselves."
Liam bursts out laughing.
That dork.
"And you, baby?" I say, kissing Liam's neck. "What are you doing?"
"Oh my God, get a room," Jack says. "I mean, a different room. Do we have to keep telling you guys that?"
"Why? Don't you like watching?" Liam asks.
Jack rolls his eyes.
"You two are like brothers to me. I don't do that whole kink thing like you weirdos."
We both laugh.
Maybe being with them will get the news out of my head for a little while.
We sit there like that until Liam speaks, so much hope in his voice that I almost feel bad for him.
"We're not working out today, right?"
I torture him with this, and I know it.
"Of course we are."
He groans dramatically.
"Stop being lazy. Go get changed," I say, giving him a light smack on the ass when he stands. "You want to come, Jack?"
"You two aren't going to start making out in there, right?" he asks, wrinkling his nose.
"We actually lift."
"Fine." He shrugs. "With you two, you never know."
He stands too.
"I'll go put on my gym clothes."
I try to do what I always do.
Forget my problems by lifting something heavy.
At the gym, I load more weight onto the bench than I should. Jack stands behind me to spot, already looking suspicious.
"You sure about that?"
"Yeah."
I'm not.
Doesn't matter.
I'm going to lift it one way or another.
I unrack the bar.
It comes down.
Then it almost doesn't go back up.
My arms shake violently, close to giving out, but I keep pushing.
Whatever happens, I'm going to hold it.
Even if it's more than I can take.
"Come on," Jack says from above me. "Push."
I do.
The bar crawls upward. My elbows nearly buckle.
Jack's hands hover under it, close enough to catch it if I fail, but I don't let him.
I push until the bar finally reaches the rack.
Jack helps guide it into place.
I drop my arms to my sides and lie there, breathing hard.
I did it.
But it cost me.
My arms hurt. Maybe more than they should.
I've hurt myself plenty of times training harder than I should.
After that, the three of us go to MMA.
I watch Tyler and Reed go at each other every chance they get, but underneath all of it, it's starting to look like they actually like each other.
Maybe my brother is going to be okay without me.
The thought sits heavily in my stomach.
I look over at Liam, who's sparring with Jack.
My little puppy. So good-looking.
Not suspecting a thing.
I look at Griff and notice he's watching me too.
Probably reading me.
So I make a point of training harder. I'm going to show everyone I'm fine.
MMA ends.
For a second, I'm afraid Griff is going to pull me aside or say something to Liam. He doesn't.
We're able to head to the showers and we have a quick rinse. We can't fool around in front of everybody.
Then Liam and I go back to the room instead of the rec hall. We're alone. I lie down on my bed. He lies on my chest. For one weak second, I want to cry.
But I don't.
I need to show him it's going to be okay, even if I don't fully believe that myself yet. We're going to get through whatever comes next together.
It's on me to show him that.
If I panic, he'll panic too.
So I keep stroking his hair until another thought pushes its way through everything else.
Last night.
Chicken wings.
Fake candles.
Grape juice in plastic cups.
I want to be with you forever.
Let's get married.
He said it like a joke.
I answered before I even had time to think.
And I haven't stopped thinking about it since.
My hand goes still in his hair.
Liam looks up at me, confused.
I sit up.
He stays on the bed, his eyebrows pulling together as he tries to figure out what's happening.
My heart is racing again.
But this time, I know what I'm doing.
I go to my locker, where I keep the few things that belong to me, and pull out a strip of temporary tattoos Jack gave me at the end of last year, after he'd gone to stay with his sister.
Small connected leaves.
I stare at them for a second.
Then I turn around.
Liam is still sitting on the bed.
He's so beautiful.
His black fringe is still a little damp from the shower, falling across his forehead. Those bright blue eyes. His face still flushed from the workout. The black facility shirt and shorts. The long socks he wears, which I've always found inexplicably attractive.
I walk back to him.
Then I get down on one knee.
His eyes go wide.
A baffled, delighted smile spreads across his face.
"What are you…?"
"You asked me last night," I say.
He stops.
I take his hand.
"Now I'm asking you."
His smile disappears for half a second, shocked.
"Liam," I say. "Will you marry me?"
I hold up the strip of temporary tattoos like it's a ring.
He stares at me.
Then at the tattoos.
Then back at me.
The ridiculous grin returns.
"Are you serious?"
"Someday I'm going to do this properly. With an actual ring and everything you deserve."
My voice shakes a little.
"But I'm asking you for real now."
His eyes are getting wet.
"Will you be my fiancé?"
I squeeze his hand.
"And then my husband?"
"Holy motherfucking shit," he says, because of course he does.
I laugh.
"I want that more than anything."
Something inside my chest breaks open.
In a good way.
I press the tattoo strip against his finger, then hold his hand up and lick the paper.
"Disgusting," he says. But he's laughing.
I suck on his finger until the paper is good and wet, hold the strip in place, and after about twenty seconds, peel it back slowly.
A little ring of connected leaves wraps around his finger.
It's actually pretty perfect.
He holds his hand up and stares at it like he can't believe it's there.
"I'm going to be sad when it starts to fade," he says.
"Then we draw it again."
He looks at me.
"Every time it fades."
His expression softens.
"Daddy, you're a poet."
I kiss him.
Then we lie back down, and he keeps looking at his finger.
"But you need one too," he says suddenly.
Before I can answer, he gets up, goes under his bunk where he keeps his things, and comes back with a Sharpie.
Of course he has a Sharpie.
He takes my hand and starts drawing an intricate ring around my finger, curling lines and little details like something from an old engraving.
"That's yours," he says when he's done.
I look at it.
Then at him.
I can’t believe how fucking happy I feel at that moment.
Terrified about everything else.
But happy.
I pull him in by the back of the neck.
"Help, you're going to kill me," he complains.
But he holds on just as tightly.
We fall back onto the bed.
He climbs onto my chest and kisses me, settling his weight over me.
I wrap both arms around him.
Three months.
I still have to tell him.
I still have to ask Auntie.
I still have to figure out where I'm going to live and how I'm going to work and what happens after I walk through those gates.
But this part is decided.
Him.
Us.
Whatever comes next.
We stay tangled together until we fall asleep, his temporary ring wrapped around his finger and mine drawn in black ink.