Chapter Fifteen
James was miserable.
Yesterday, he’d seen his therapist, who’d walked him through everything that had happened that night with Nolan. And yet, he wasn’t sure how to breach the silence between them. How could Nolan forgive him after James had fucked and ditched? He’d literally run from the scene.
James opened his laptop on the couch and tried ignoring emails, which featured unpaid hospital bills, ones he’d been pushing off. Plus, Andrew’s mom had left a message.
He tilted his head back with a groan. This was the last thing he wanted to be doing after work, but Nolan wasn’t home yet. If it dropped like a bomb, at least he would be alone to process.
He opened the email.
Hey, James,
I know we haven’t spoken in awhile. To be honest, a lot of times the act of writing the email was too difficult.
Too much of a reminder of everything we’ve lost. Andrew…
he’d be glaring daggers at us for not reaching out to you.
He had a way of bringing us together that we really miss, along with…
well, everything about him. He always smiled like sunlight, as if it beamed from his pores.
And you never realize how reliant you are on that until it’s gone.
Anyway, I heard from a friend of Andrew’s that you’d moved back to San Francisco. I can’t blame you. The memories are everywhere here. But I wanted to send a message to let you know that you’re not alone in your grief. And even though Andrew is gone, if you need help, Jared and I are here.
We miss him every day.
Take care,
Melissa
James leaned back against the couch, his chest aching.
He hadn’t realized that tears had begun to pour down his cheeks, but somewhere along reading the email from Melissa, they’d grown wet with them.
Once arrangements were finished for Andrew, once they’d gone through the funeral and then sold the house, he hadn’t heard a word from Andrew’s parents.
In their three years together as a couple, he hadn’t gotten to know them too well, but they’d always been kind.
He’d figured they were lost in their grief, and this confirmed that.
He balled up a fist to his chest, as if he could fill the gaping hole there. For far too long, his grief had loomed over him like an approaching storm, but he just closed his eyes and let the rains descend.
Tears flooded down his cheeks, though he didn’t sob. No, this was a torrent of sheer emotion, and he was a mere conduit.
The mention of Andrew brought those memories back fresh, and in a way, he was grateful. To remember Andrew’s presence, that maybe he could keep the bits from slipping through his grasp.
That maybe he could do both—move forward but keep his memory alive.
Fuck.
If only he’d had this revelation three days earlier.
James’s chest ached as tears continued to flow.
Maybe, given time, he could take the anniversaries, the birthdays, and use them as moments to remember.
To cherish the memory of him. He wiped at the tears on his cheeks.
He hadn’t cried this much since Andrew had died.
Something about the move ripped open those wounds…
letting them heal the right way this time.
Or it had to do with the man whose house he was living in.
The one who snuck into his heart without him realizing it.
The tears began to dry, and he set his laptop on the coffee table before rising to make his way to the bathroom. James splashed cold water on his face to clear his head a bit, and funny enough, it helped. Either that or purging more feelings than could possibly be trapped inside someone.
When he stepped outside of the bathroom, the creak of the front door echoed.
That could only be one person.
His heart thumped a little faster, since he saw more clearly and was ready to talk for the first time since he’d raced away. Whether or not their conversation would amount to anything was a whole different issue—after all, he’d proven to be an unreliable mess—but he owed Nolan an explanation.
He hoped Nolan would allow him to keep living here. That they could find a way forward without their interactions being as painfully awkward as they had been for the past few days.
James shook out his hands as he walked to the foyer.
Nolan unzipped his boots, bent over with his gorgeous ass on display. Fuck. Heat rushed through him on the sight alone, and James bit back a hysterical laugh. He’d been a riotous mess of emotion for the past hour. When Nolan rose and turned, his shoulders jumped in surprise.
“Didn’t realize you were there,” Nolan said and then trailed off.
The air grew heavy, saturated with everything unsaid. All the complicated emotions that brewed, all the complexities of the connection between them that had deepened. At least, before he’d severed it by running off.
“I owe you an apology,” James said.
Nolan winced. “If this is going to be an ‘it’s not you, it’s me,’ we don’t have to go deep into it. I…I’m holding on by a thread.”
Guilt slammed into James full force. He’d been trying to process his own emotions and manage the weight of what had hit him, but he should’ve considered how much Nolan would be hurting. How James’s silence had sliced.
“Nothing like that,” James said, stepping closer. Nolan’s shoulders tensed, so he stopped where he was.
Before he could say another word, a rumble shook the house, causing the planks to tremble.
Earthquake.
James acted instinctively. He rushed to Nolan, grabbed his arm, pulled him over to the nearest wall, then yanked them to the ground. He wrapped his body around Nolan’s, covering him without hesitation.
Another quake shivered through the timbers of the house, and James’s heart thumped hard.
A few crashes sounded. Fuck. He remained as still as anything, following the protocol they had drilled into him from an early age.
Everyone who grew up in California experienced earthquakes often enough to know how to handle them.
They weren’t near any furniture that could topple, and he’d found a stationary spot near an interior wall to wait out the tremors.
He remained in place, as the silence of the house ached through him. Nolan curled into a ball beneath him, his whole body shaking. As minutes passed by, their breaths formed an unsteady rhythm.
No more quakes seemed to be occurring.
Sweat prickled his forehead. What the hell was with today? After several more minutes without tremors, James peeled himself off Nolan.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “Just had to act fast. I always hate when earthquakes roll through.”
Nolan still crouched in his ball, his whole body trembling. He made a low sound, and James’s brows drew together.
He placed a hand on Nolan’s shoulder. “Hey, you okay?”
Nolan didn’t respond. He stayed curled up and shook hard enough that the motion reverberated through the air. Something was wrong.
James moved his hand to Nolan’s back, and he ran his palm along it in slow, deliberate strokes. “It’s over,” he reassured. “The earthquake has passed. We’re safe. We’re safe, baby.”
Nolan whimpered, the sound filled with terror. He didn’t budge, hunched over and shuddering. Had the earthquake triggered his OCD? What was happening? He crouched beside him and continued stroking his back. Shaky breaths were coming from Nolan, so he was at least breathing.
James started to draw in one long breath after another, evening his own flow as he ran his hand along Nolan’s back. “Shh, baby. You’re safe.”
He lost himself in the rhythm of the movements, which settled him in the process as he tried to figure out what was going on with Nolan. He seemed fine one moment, and then he’d frozen the next.
“Breathe for me,” he said. “Steady breath in, steady breath out.”
Nolan followed suit, over and over again, until the violent shaking in his limbs subsided. Until his breathing evened, matching James’s.
Finally, Nolan sat upright, and James reached for Nolan’s hand, which Nolan squeezed tightly.
James looked him square in the eye. “What happened?”