Managing a mental illness such as this is mostly about acceptance, Loren. Eliot—and you—have to accept there are things he can’t do, and things he
must
do.
Loren had heard it over, and over, and over. He remembered Traci’s words from a long-ago support group meeting:
My days will be different from yours. What you imagine as stability isn’t how I imagine it. This is something I have to live with, and something
you
have to live with if you want to be with me. I have to accept my reality. I
have
to, or this won’t work.
Loren thought he could compartmentalize his life: his job over here, Eliot over here. He had stubbornly held on to both of his dreams, determined to have it all, congratulating himself on making it work.
Until it didn’t.
Now he was at a major crossroads, and the decision he would make now would affect the rest of his fucking life. If he chose his career, he’d have to let Eliot go. There was no other option, no other way to see it. Aside from the anxiety it caused Eliot and the time commitment the job entailed for Loren—and that would never change—how could Loren ever subject Eliot to what would surely be the barely veiled contempt, sidelong glances, and prurient curiosity from his colleagues?
Not only is Smith gay, his boyfriend is a sandwich short of a picnic.
There would be some who would be tolerant of him, but many who would not. Loren would never feel comfortable bringing Eliot around his coworkers, especially the ones who witnessed firsthand the scene in the station. That would never be an option—not for Loren’s sake, but for Eliot’s. Eliot had lived his entire life dealing with the judgment and censure of others who didn’t understand him; his life with Loren was supposed to be different, and it wouldn’t be, not in that area.
Aside from that, Loren couldn’t allow the ugliness he encountered at work to touch Eliot’s life, not when Eliot dealt with the ugliness of a brain that sometimes betrayed him. The human-trafficking and baby-selling case had affected Loren’s psyche, and he hadn’t had the outlet of expressing even a modicum of his anguish to Eliot. Loren couldn’t come home, collapse in Eliot’s arms, and heap his own stress and anxiety on top of what Eliot was already dealing with. Loren would never allow himself to do that.
So what it boiled down to was having his job, or having Eliot. And wasn’t that just a ridiculous fucking statement, a nonissue. There were other jobs or other incarnations of his job that Loren could seek out, jobs that would satisfy him and allow him to serve the public the way he’d always dreamed of doing. Yes, there were plenty of other jobs.
But there was only one Eliot.
THE NEXT
evening Loren pulled into Rebecca’s driveway and took a deep breath before walking up to the door to ring the bell. It wasn’t long before Eliot opened it, and for several breathless moments they stared at each other before Eliot snorted.
“I feel like I’m in high school and you’re picking me up for the prom or something,” he said drily, stepping back so Loren could come inside.
“Is Rebecca here?” Loren asked as Eliot led him into the kitchen. There were some coffee cups set out and a small plate of cookies. Loren was touched at the effort Eliot had gone to, and he clenched his fists at his sides to keep from hauling him into his arms. He lost that right when he walked away and left Eliot at that hospital.
“No, she and Fred went out tonight to give us some time alone. She was happy to hear that you were coming over, Loren.”
Eliot carefully poured them some coffee, his hands not shaking as much as they had been the day before, and he didn’t spill a drop.
“I’m sorry, it’s decaf,” Eliot said, setting the carafe back on the warmer. “That’s all I drink anymore. No caffeine, no booze.” He sighed.
Loren sipped his coffee and then pushed it aside. “You look wonderful, El,” he said softly. And he meant it. Eliot was probably ten to fifteen pounds heavier than he was the last time Loren saw him, but he looked healthier than ever. A subtle look of pride and happiness filled his eyes at Loren’s words.
“Thanks,” he murmured, sipping his own coffee. “I
feel
pretty good, for the most part. At least by this time of day. Mornings are still a bitch.”
“Side effects?” Loren asked, wincing as he remembered Eliot in that Grand Canyon hotel room, stumbling into the walls.
“Yeah, I’m seriously fucked up for a few hours. I’m also getting fat. But you know what? It all sucks less than being batshit crazy, Loren. I’ll take it.”
“El—” Loren began helplessly. “I—I don’t—”
Eliot reached across the island and took Loren’s hand in his. “Loren, I need to apologize to you,” he whispered, squeezing his hand in admonishment when Loren would have interrupted. “Please let me finish.” Loren nodded, and Eliot continued, “I’m sorry that I came to your work and fucked things up for you so much. I honestly don’t remember a lot of it, but from what I do remember, it must have been horrifying for you.”
Loren swallowed hard, and he said in a hoarse voice, “It wasn’t your fault, El. I know that. None of it was. And while it was—it was embarrassing for both of us, nothing was fucked up for me. I dealt with it. And I need to apologize to you too. What I wanted was for my life to go on the way I’d always planned for it to, expecting
you
to be the one to adapt to it, to cope. When it should have been exactly the opposite.”
“But your job, Loren,” Eliot said earnestly. “I would never want you to lose that, even to be with me. I can try harder to make it work, to deal with the anxiety. I know it’s your dream.”
“No, that’s where you’re wrong, El. And where I was wrong too. My dream is to be with you, and it has been since we were kids, since the moment I saw you again in that club, the moment you came back into my life. I lost sight of that, caught up in my own ambition.”
Loren tugged on Eliot’s hand, pulling him around the island to stand between his legs. Eliot looked at him, his eyes tentative, and he slowly reached out and linked his arms around Loren’s neck.
“My dream has always been for you to feel happy, safe, loved, cared for. My dream is to make you feel all of those things, every day. And when you don’t feel those things, my dream is to be there for you in whatever way you need me to be there.”
Eliot’s green eyes filled with tears, and Loren wiped them away with his thumbs. “A job is just a job, baby. My dream is you.”
“I love you, Loren,” Eliot said huskily, turning to kiss Loren’s palm. “But I need to be honest with you, okay? It hurt when you didn’t call me, or come to see me.”
Loren couldn’t help but wince, shame flowing through him. “I’m so sorry,” he rasped. “All I needed was a little time, and before I knew it, weeks had passed. Then I—I didn’t know what to say anymore, how to close the gap. It was easier just to stay away, and your mom said you were doing okay, so—” He broke off, hearing how lame all that sounded and hating himself for it.
Eliot looked at him steadily. “It’s okay for you to need time to yourself, Loren. I’ve told you a million times, Traci and Donovan have told you, sharing my life is not going to be easy. I don’t resent you for needing some space, some room to breathe. But what I do resent is you not even trying to reassure me, letting me assume the worst.”
“Oh God, El, I—”
Eliot put his hand over Loren’s lips, stopping the anguished flow of words. “I’m telling you that I understand what you need going forward. Now I want you to understand what
I
need. Waiting for you, I can do; wondering and worrying, I can’t. Don’t do that to me again, Loren. Please.”
Loren cupped Eliot’s face in his hands and looked straight into his eyes. “I’m so very sorry, Eliot. So fucking sorry. For not being there, for hurting you, all of it. It’s going to be different from now on, okay?”
Eliot closed his eyes and nodded, and Loren drew Eliot to him then, feeling him melt against him with the softest of sighs. They stood like that for a long time until Loren gently pushed Eliot away and stood. He linked their fingers together and led him out the french doors to the backyard before pulling him against him again, this time back to front, his arms wrapped around Eliot’s waist from behind.
“Do you see the moon, El?” he asked softly, and Eliot tipped his head back against Loren’s shoulder. Together they looked up into the sky, a rare cloud cover and the light pollution from the city turning the sky opaque. There was nothing there but a dull grayness. “Because I see it,” Loren rasped. “I will always see it. Whatever you face from now on, we will face it together. No more half-assing it; I’m all-in. Forgive me for walking away, baby, please.”
Eliot turned in Loren’s arms. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he replied tenderly, lifting his hand to stroke Loren’s cheek.
Loren kissed Eliot’s palm. He opened his mouth to speak, to ask the question “Why?” but Eliot lifted to his toes and kissed him, whispering his answer against Loren’s lips.
“Because you came back.”
Three Years Later
“ONCE UPON
a time, I would have given anything for you to look at
me
like that.”
Loren turned his head and glanced at Kai, shoving his sunglasses to the top of his head so Kai could see the puzzlement on his face.
“Like what?” he asked, curious.
Kai pushed himself to a sitting position on his towel, draping his forearms across his upraised knees as he nodded toward the ocean, quirking his lips. Loren followed his gaze and smiled when he saw Eliot emerge from the surf again, only to be tackled back down into it by two very exuberant preteens. Jeremy was standing along the water’s edge, laughing at them all.
“With such utter adoration,” Kai said simply, and Loren felt himself flushing.
“Yeah, well,” he mumbled. “I do adore him, what can I say?”
“I used to be a little jealous of him,” Kai admitted out of the blue, and Loren was astounded.
“Jealous? But he didn’t come back into my life until after you were with Jeremy!”
“I know, I know.” Kai twisted his fingers together with nervous motions. “But you’d been mine for so long, Loren. And even though
I’d
moved on, it was hard when you finally did too. Sounds so awful when I say it out loud, but there it is. I’m not perfect, geez.”
“Never thought you were,” Loren whispered, running his hand once up and down Kai’s warm back. “And since we’re suddenly spewing true confessions here, I think I’ll always be a little bit in love with you.”
“Ditto,” Kai whispered. “But when Jeremy got hit, and what happened with that, I had to accept that I truly wasn’t number one in your life anymore. It was eye-opening, and it put things in perspective for me once and for all. I love Eliot, and I love you
with
Eliot. Please believe that, no matter what my big mouth said just now. It’s just—all of us here together like this, in this beautiful place, it’s making me maudlin.”
“It’s been a rough couple of years, Kai. For both of us.”
“How’s Eliot doing?” Kai asked, his voice soft. “We haven’t had a chance to talk much since it happened.”
Loren sighed, and Kai reached over and took his hand, lacing their fingers together. “Talk to me, Loren.”
He waited, just holding Loren’s hand, until Loren choked out, “God, Kai, even more than a year later I can still see him lying there on that floor. Seizing, blood everywhere….”
Kai squeezed Loren’s fingers encouragingly. “Get it out, Loren.”
Loren bit his lip. “He stockpiled those sleeping pills, Kai,” he whispered. “Hid them in a bag of cotton balls, someplace I’d never think to look. So he—so he’d have—”
“So he’d have options for killing himself.”
Loren shook his head in automatic denial, and Kai reached up with his free hand and turned Loren’s chin toward him, looking into his eyes, his own golden ones full of compassion. “It’s important that you acknowledge what happened, Loren. Can you tell me?”
Loren took a shuddering breath and pulled away, propping his arms on his knees again and staring down between them at the golden Hawaiian sand. “His friend Sam died one night after Eliot and Joaquin weren’t able to convince him to go to a shelter. It was so hot, Kai. Full summer, 115 degrees during the day. They did everything they could, and it wasn’t enough. Eliot—Eliot found him dead—”
“Oh God, that must have been horrifying. Poor Eliot.”
“I could see him drifting into this depression afterward, like he was just spiraling down and down. Nothing helped. Dr. Babcock changed his meds, even admitted him to Desert Grove for some intensive therapy and counseling.”
“So you were proactive,” Kai said, putting his hand on Loren’s back. “You were aware of what was happening and you sought help. You were vigilant.”
“Not fucking vigilant enough,” Loren said harshly, shrugging Kai’s hand away. “Because he stashed those fucking pills and then one night sat on the toilet seat in our bathroom and took them all!”
“One
night
, Loren? He waited until you were asleep?”
Loren slumped, his head hanging. “Yes,” he whispered.
“He had a plan,” Kai said gently. “It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. The stash of pills, waiting until you were asleep—he planned it, and he waited. Unless you never slept, never took a shower, never took your eyes off of him for one second, there’s no way you could have prevented him from carrying out that plan once he decided to act on it.”
“I could have—I could have—”
“You could have what? Read his mind?”
“Why did he want to leave me, Kai? Why?” Loren could hear the anguish in his voice, and he desperately tried to blink back tears. Kai’s eyes were wet as he put his arm around Loren’s shoulders and pulled him close.
“He didn’t want to leave you,” Kai murmured. “He just wanted his pain to stop. It didn’t have anything—not one thing—to do with you, Loren. As hard as that is to understand. It didn’t, and you
must
stop blaming yourself.”
Loren shook his head, and Kai changed tactics, saying, “You obviously found him in time. What happened?”