Chapter 14 Ghosts Return #2
The thought followed Damon all afternoon.
Through work.
Through meetings.
Through dinner.
No matter what he focused on, the same questions returned.
Why didn't he tell me?
The answer should have been obvious.
It wasn't his business.
Elliot didn't owe him explanations.
The logical argument sounded reasonable.
It also felt completely useless.
Because logic wasn't the problem.
The problem was that Damon thought they shared things.
Important things.
The realization hurt more than expected.
By the time evening arrived, frustration had joined the confusion.
Not anger.
Not yet.
Something more complicated.
Disappointment.
Fear.
The growing suspicion that the future he'd been imagining existed only in his own head.
Around seven o'clock, he found himself pulling into Roy's driveway.
The decision wasn't planned.
At least not consciously.
His truck apparently made choices without consulting him lately.
The porch light glowed warmly against the gathering darkness.
Elliot sat on the steps with a sketchbook resting on his knee.
The sight usually calmed him.
Tonight, it didn't.
The younger man looked up.
Immediately smiling.
The reaction almost made Damon forget why he was there.
Almost.
"Hey."
Elliot stood.
The smile faded slightly.
Because apparently something showed on his face.
"Damon?"
The concern in his voice only made things harder.
"We need to talk."
The words sounded rougher than intended.
Elliot's expression immediately tightened.
"Okay."
For a moment, neither moved.
The familiar comfort between them felt strangely absent.
Tension filled the space instead.
Damon hated it.
Yet he couldn't seem to stop.
"You applied for a scholarship."
Silence.
Instant.
Absolute.
The reaction told him everything.
Elliot froze.
The color slowly draining from his face.
"Damon..."
Not denial.
Not confusion.
Confirmation.
The realization landed heavily.
"How long?"
The question escaped before he could soften it.
Elliot looked away.
The movement felt like a punch.
"Several weeks."
Several weeks.
The words echoed.
Damon laughed once.
A short sound lacking humor.
"Several weeks."
"I was going to tell you."
The explanation arrived quickly.
Too quickly.
As though rehearsed.
"When?"
The question hung between them.
Elliot didn't answer immediately.
Because apparently there wasn't a good answer.
That hurt more than anything.
"Damon—"
"No."
The interruption came sharper than intended.
The younger man flinched slightly.
The sight immediately filled him with regret.
Yet the frustration remained.
"You couldn't tell me?"
"It's not that simple."
The response only made things worse.
Because Damon already knew that.
Life was complicated.
Relationships were complicated.
None of that explained the secrecy.
The silence stretched.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Finally, Elliot sighed.
"I didn't know what to say."
The honesty caught him off guard.
Not because it solved anything.
Because it sounded genuine.
The younger man looked exhausted.
Worried.
Afraid.
For a moment, Damon remembered this wasn't easy for him either.
Then another thought surfaced.
Fall.
Halfway across the country.
Gone.
The image settled like a weight inside his chest.
The farmhouse.
The future.
The plans he'd barely allowed himself to imagine.
All suddenly felt foolish.
Embarrassingly foolish.
"Do you want it?"
The question emerged quietly.
Elliot stared.
The answer mattered.
More than either of them wanted to admit.
"I don't know."
The uncertainty should have comforted him.
Instead, it somehow hurt.
Because Damon heard the truth underneath.
Part of Elliot did want it.
Of course he did.
It was everything he'd worked for.
Everything he'd dreamed about.
How could he not?
"You should've told me."
The statement came out softer this time.
Tired.
Honest.
The younger man's expression crumpled slightly.
"I know."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Crickets filled the silence.
The Texas night felt unusually cold.
Then Elliot looked up.
Something defensive appearing in his eyes.
A change Damon immediately noticed.
"I haven't done anything wrong."
The statement landed hard.
Because technically, it was true.
Yet hearing it aloud still stung.
"I didn't say you did."
"You sound like you think I did."
The words came faster now.
Emotion slipping through.
"I applied for a scholarship, Damon."
"I know what you applied for."
"It's my future."
The sentence struck like a physical blow.
Because that was exactly the issue.
Future.
A future that might not include him.
The realization made every fear from the farmhouse come rushing back.
Maybe this had always been temporary.
Maybe he'd been stupid enough to forget.
The argument shifted.
Not louder.
Worse.
More personal.
The kind built from hurt instead of anger.
"I never asked you to stay."
The words escaped before Damon could stop them.
Immediate regret followed.
Elliot stared.
The pain on his face was unmistakable.
"No."
The younger man's voice shook slightly.
"You just started building a future with me in it."
Silence.
The truth landed between them.
Sharp.
Merciless.
Because Elliot wasn't wrong.
Neither was Damon.
That was the problem.
Both understood exactly what was happening.
The scholarship represented opportunity.
The relationship represented something else.
Neither wanted to lose either one.
Yet suddenly those paths seemed to be pulling in different directions.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do."
Elliot's voice sounded small.
Vulnerable.
Real.
The admission cut through some of Damon's anger.
Leaving only sadness.
Because he didn't know either.
For weeks, everything had felt simple when they were together.
Now reality had arrived.
And reality was messy.
The younger man looked away.
Toward the darkness beyond the porch.
"I wasn't trying to hurt you."
The words barely rose above a whisper.
Damon believed him.
That somehow made everything worse.
Because there wasn't a villain here.
No betrayal.
No bad intentions.
Just two people wanting different things and not knowing how to make them fit together.
The realization settled heavily.
Exhausting.
Painful.
Neither spoke for a long time.
Eventually, Damon stepped backward.
Creating distance.
The movement felt wrong.
Necessary.
"I should go."
Elliot looked up.
For a moment, Damon thought he might say something.
Ask him to stay.
Explain.
Fight.
Instead, silence remained.
The absence hurt.
More than it should have.
Damon nodded once.
Then turned toward his truck.
The walk felt longer than usual.
Behind him, the porch remained quiet.
No footsteps followed.
No voice called his name.
By the time he climbed into the driver's seat, his chest felt hollow.
The engine started.
Headlights cut through the darkness.
Still, he didn't drive away immediately.
Because despite everything, one truth remained painfully clear.
He loved Elliot.
And tonight, for the first time, love didn't feel simple.
It felt fragile.
Uncertain.
Terrifying.
As the truck finally rolled down the driveway, neither man had the answers they needed.
Only hurt feelings.
Unspoken fears.
And questions neither knew how to answer.
Questions that would not disappear when morning came.
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