by Riley Knight
“Is it Will?”
The words were said so quietly that even Judah, sitting right beside Isaac, had to lean forward to hear them, which was a relief, because the church, while slowly emptying, was still filled with chattering parents and loud children. The bustle covered a lot of it, but Isaac still respected Judah’s privacy.
Slowly, Judah forced his eyes back up, making him look into those lovely eyes again. He had thought that he might see something wrong there, some sort of judgment, but he didn’t. Those eyes were still kind and gentle and full of empathy, so completely unlike anything that Judah would have expected on those rare occasions that he had considered what it would mean to come out.
“Yes.”
Judah didn’t even decide to say the word. Yes, it was Will. Yes, that was the reason that Stephen wasn’t here, the reason that Judah had all of this work to do. It was Will, everything was Will, and the reason that Judah’s heart kept beating and his lungs kept the air flowing through his body was Will.
“But it’s over,” he added, and Isaac frowned slightly, but nodded again. This man was very tactful, Judah was finding, and he would trust him to keep a secret.
“If you’ll have me, I’d like to help,” Isaac admitted, “with the church. I took care of it, kept it clean, while I worked here. It’s been nice being able to come back with you in charge, but I still miss the work. I did reception, too. Kept everything in order.”
Did Isaac even know what a precious gift he was offering Judah? The work of even this small church was a lot for one man. So even just offering to lighten his load was a huge deal, but on top of that, Isaac had listened to Judah without judgment. Had taken his secret and validated it.
If only it hadn’t happened so late. If only Judah could have had this conversation before he and Will had ended, maybe they wouldn’t have had to end at all. If only he could grow wings, he could fly to Will right now and take him away from Jack, and he knew full well this was all completely ridiculous, he really did.
It was just sort of tragic, the whole situation. Not that Will would have necessarily even wanted to be with Judah for real, but at least there would have been a chance. A chance, which was more than they’d had in the first place.
“Thank you,” Judah whispered around the lump in his throat. And he knew, somehow, that Isaac knew that he wasn’t just thanking him for the offer. “If you are serious, I would love to take you up on that.”
He had the budget, after all, to hire someone to help him, he just hadn’t managed to find time to find someone that he could trust. So God, it seemed, had seen his need and sent someone to him, help in the form of this lovely, kind, generous man.
“Okay. When can I start?” Isaac asked, and Judah, despite his misery, despite the way that he felt like Will was burning through his veins and etched into his soul, couldn’t help but feel a slight lightening of some enormous weight, a burden that he could now share.
“Tomorrow. Or as soon as you can,” he whispered fervently and saw the brief flash of Isaac’s understanding smile before the other man rose to his feet and nodded to him. It wasn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world for Judah to trust someone, but he knew that he had made a good choice in trusting this man.
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow,” Isaac told him, and then he was gone. He and Ruby, who was looking after him curiously, no doubt wondering what her half-brother had been speaking to Judah about so intensely.
The world still seemed a very black, bleak place, but at least his biggest worry had been assuaged. He had been wondering if he could somehow manage to keep going, to lose himself in his work, but his work had been overwhelming him.
With Isaac around, he might have some chance at keeping this church going. It didn’t bring Will back, so the comfort was a bit of a cold one, but he still knew that he owed Isaac more than he could ever repay.
The misery was still there, and Judah was starting to think that it would never fully go away. A cold comfort might be all that he could have, but it was a great deal better than nothing.
TWENTY TWO
Stephen was miserable, and Will knew it. But the truth was, he was starting to think that he was going to have to move away from this town. Everything reminded him of Judah, and even as the days passed, none of that initial pain passed. It remained as fresh as vivid as it had been the moment he had seen Judah get into his car and drive away.
It was probably better to prepare Stephen for that. Of course, Will was going to stay around until the end of the school year, but if the wounds hadn’t closed at least a little by then, he would seriously consider moving into a different small town, or even into Austin. That was where the school he taught at was, and while it would be harder to make it work financially as a single parent in the city than it was in a smaller town, he could do it. He was pretty sure.
He wasn’t sure of anything yet, though, in terms of moving. He had looked at some real estate websites, and of course, he had pulled Stephen out of any activities involving the church. The way Stephen had looked at him when he had done that would haunt him for a long time, but it was the last link that Will had to Judah, and in all honesty, he thought it would just be better if it was completely broken.
It was guilt, perhaps, which had made Will allow Stephen to go spend the night at Jesse’s place. It wasn’t normal for a teenage boy to have no social connections, and even though Will thought that it would probably hurt Stephen a great deal to leave his best friend, it probably wasn’t fair of him to try to hold him back from that. Besides, it wasn’t like Will would really be going that far away, and teenagers had lots of options to stay in touch.
Which sort of made him snort, despite himself. He might as well be an old man standing on a front step, shaking his fist and shouting for the local kids to get off of his lawn. When had he become such a pain in the ass, anyway?
Maybe when his heart had been broken, he thought. That could probably do it. The smile faded from his face as he remembered Judah and how it had felt to see the other man walk away and to be completely sure that it was good. Judah didn’t play games. He didn’t say things that he didn’t mean, and while Will could normally appreciate that trait, right at the moment, he would be more than happy for Judah to come right up to his door, tell him he’d been wrong, tell him anything as long as it meant that Judah was back with him.
Nothing had been solved, though. All of the same problems between them would continue to be problems. It was just that Will could only seem to see that when he wasn’t around Judah. Then, he could be as logical as ever. But the moment he was with Judah, well, it seemed that love made him into far more of an optimist than a realist. Not something that he was used to, but it was undoubtedly true.
Sighing, Will paced through the house, idly checking on things that he never checked on before, simply for something to do. Without Stephen here, he was bored, at a loss for what to do, worried about his son even if he had learned over the last couple of months that his son was growing up, was a good kid, and wasn’t going to get into trouble.
He was just on edge, he realized. Not thinking quite right. And it was probably a good thing that he still had no idea where Judah lived because it would be so easy just to let himself get into his car and drive over. To make a complete idiot of himself, more likely than not, and to make Judah turn him down once again.
His mind was whirling. All of the things, all of the reasons that it couldn’t work, as well as all of the things that made it so good, whirled through his head. He had been over this territory a million times, and nothing had changed.
He needed a distraction. Another man might turn to the bottle, but Will had seen what that had done, and it held no temptation for him. His drug of choice was books, had always been books, so of course, it was to books that he turned. He always had a big list of things that he wanted to read, and why not tonight, when he could use the distraction?
He was just getting settled on the couch, just running his fingers over the smoot
h cover of the book, when his phone started to ring.
Which was undoubtedly odd, he thought. It was at least midnight, and Will frowned, then reached for where he’d placed it carefully on the table. Whoever was calling this late, it had to be important. Something could have even happened with Stephen, but when he glanced at the call display his frown only deepened.
Why was someone calling him from the bar?
There was a growing feeling of misgiving in the pit of his stomach, and slowly, wondering if he even should, he pressed on the screen to accept the call.
Seconds later, his book was abandoned as he ran right out of the house, cursing softly under his breath. He had thought that he was past the part of his life where he did this, but it seemed like maybe he never would be.
* * *
“How long has he been like this?”
Will kept his voice down, but he knew that there was no reason to do so. It was a Saturday night at the only bar in town, and people were so drunk that Will could have stood on the bar and shouted it to the whole room, and people would have probably clapped and cheered him on.
Ben frowned, his green eyes concerned as he looked at the man sitting at a table in the corner. Jack, of course, who seemed lost to the world, stuck in his own mind, with a truly impressive collection of different, and empty, glasses in front of himself.
If he let himself, Will might throw something. Or cry. One of the only things that he had been happy about with the whole awkward Jack situation was that he had believed that Jack had actually changed. That he had stopped drinking, and that there might be some hope for the future for him. After all, he didn’t want to be with Jack, but that didn’t mean that he wanted bad things for him.
Had Jack even stopped drinking? Was this a relapse, or had Jack never fallen off of the wagon because he’d never been on it in the first place? Will could remember, now that he thought about it, many times that Jack had assured him he would cut back, or just outright stop, and all of them had ended badly.
“Since he called you,” Ben drawled, and his green eyes were deeply concerned as he looked, not at Jack, but at Will. Why was he looking at him like that? Will was fine. Jack was the one who was half passed out on the table.
Sighing softly, Will squared his shoulders and firmed them up. This was, after all, not the first time that he had been called in to deal with this. But it would be the last, he decided.
“Where is he staying?” Will asked, but Ben just shrugged. As the local bartender, he probably heard a lot, saw a lot, but there were limits even to that. And on the two times that Will had seen Jack, he hadn’t even thought to ask where the guy was staying.
“Fuck,” Will commented, and he saw Ben’s surprised look and gave a little bit of a shrug. Sure, he didn’t exactly curse much, but there were some times when it was just the only word that would fit a situation. This was one of those times.
For a long moment, Will just thought, his mind working away furiously. What could he do? Leave Jack here? That might be tempting, only then it put the problem on Ben’s shoulders, which didn’t seem all that fair. Not that it was particularly fair that Will had to deal with it, either. After all of these years, a whole decade after the last time he and Jack had been together, Will was having to clean up his messes.
“I’ll take him home,” Will finally sighed, resigned. “If you’ll help me get him in the car.”
“Are you sure?” Ben asked, and Will shrugged. No, he wasn’t sure. It was probably a terrible idea. It just seemed slightly less cruel than all of the other ideas he could think of. And he was tired, finally, and it was late. He just wanted this over with.
“Okay,” Ben agreed. “I’ll ride with you and help you get him into the house if you want. Isaac can close up the bar.”
It seemed like he was going to owe Isaac and Ben both, and Will nodded thankfully at them as he went over to Jack, who had passed out on the table. He was completely dead weight as he and Ben both heaved him up and got him settled in the car.
* * *
Ben was gone now, but that was okay. Will wasn’t sure that he even would have been able to manage any of this alone, and he was deeply grateful. He’d have to figure out some way to repay him, but that would have to wait until later. For the moment, Will was exhausted.
Jack was out for the night, and Will sighed and fell into the chair, looking at his ex and wondering just what had happened. Where had all of the affection that he’d once felt for this man gone? Why was it all about irritation, and maybe a sort of melancholy nostalgia? There had been good times, but that had been a long time ago.
Just like that, he fell asleep, without any intention of doing so. When he woke up, it was to a stiff, sore back and neck which told him in no uncertain terms that he was far too old to be sleeping in such an uncomfortable, unnatural position.
And that wasn’t the only thing uncomfortable about what was going on.
The couch was empty, and Jack very obviously wasn’t in it anymore, as Will would have expected with how much the guy had drunk the previous night. Will was very sure about that, Even though he couldn’t fully see the couch, Will was very sure about it being empty, because Jack was in his lap, his face far too close and getting closer, a confident smirk stretching his lips, as he leaned in towards Will.
Something inside of Will snapped. He prided himself on being a man of reason, of logic, but this man had pushed him way too far. Jack had come into his life, had tried to force what he wanted on Will, had lied to him, had disrupted him, and for what? Will would be damned if he could see what Jack hoped to gain out of this.
At that moment, though, he no longer cared. This man had caused him Judah, and for the first time, it really, truly hit home for him that he had been betrayed once more, by someone that he should never have given the power to do that.
He had believed Jack when he had told him that he had stopped drinking. Despite all of their history, he had wanted to think the best. At that moment, something stretched and thin between them was pulled even tighter, like an overstrained elastic band, and then it gave way completely and …
… Will was free
“Get out of town,” Will told him, his voice icy cold, no hint of compromise being allowed into his words or his tone or his face. No hint of mercy, not anymore. He had shown mercy, he had allowed himself to be duped, and he wasn’t going to forgive himself, or Jack, for that anytime soon.
He had lost Judah because of this.
“I know you need me,” Jack started, and Will shook his head and held up a hand. Something in his face must have been terrifying because Jack stopped speaking and just stared, not even trying to get up off of the floor where Will had pushed him down.
“Get. Out. Of. Town.” Will punctuated every single word, no hint of hesitation. Jack had to know that it was over, that there was no hope.
The front door suddenly opened, and Will glanced up, only to meet the very surprised, and then suddenly angry, eyes of his son.
“Who’s he?” Stephen asked, and Will closed his eyes, swallowing, his jaw clenching, as he realized that he was just screwed. The only good thing about this whole mess so far had been that he had, to this point, managed to keep Stephen out of it.
Before he could think of what to say, Jack had scrambled to his feet and was advancing on Stephen, who suddenly looked about a million times warier than he had before.
“I’m your father,” Jack told him, far more bluntly than Will would have done. With a soft growl, Will advanced on Jack, grabbed him by the shoulder, and pulled him away. The way he was walking, he looked like he intended to go right up to Stephen and pull him into a hug.
“Is this why you dumped Judah?” Stephen asked, and Will paused right then and there, freezing in place like all of his joints had been turned to stone, and he simply couldn’t move.
“How did you …” he started, but then Stephen was giving him a dirty look, whirling away suddenly, and Will’s question changed. “Where are you going?�
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“To church,” came Stephen’s reply, and it actually made Will relax a little. There weren’t too many places that Stephen could be safer than under Judah’s watchful eye.
“You’re just going to let him go?” Jack asked, turning eyes of stunned disbelief toward Will, and Will gave a little bit of a shrug in response. People changed. He had changed, even if he hadn’t fully realized it until now.
“I trust him,” he said, and that hadn’t been true. He’d been too worried about Stephen to trust him. But Stephen had a good head on his shoulders, and it had been Judah who had shown him that.
Jack shrugged, and Will had another sudden insight, bursting on him all at once. It seemed to be his day for that, and he shook his head as he gazed at Jack, suddenly seeing through him in a way that he hadn’t before.
Jack had never wanted to be Stephen’s father. Jack had been using Stephen as a way to try to get to Will. And that cleared away the remnants of any responsibility which Will might have felt toward Jack.
“Sit. We’re going to talk this out,” Will demanded. It was time for this to be over. Really, truly over. And he was going to impress this on Jack, no matter what else happened, that he would never be a part of his life again.
He had said it before, of course, but this time, every single last bond had been burst between them. This time, he would have no mercy, which was what he really should have done from the beginning.
TWENTY THREE
Sunday morning, early. Hours before the service, when Judah could just be by himself. It was one of his favorite times, normally, though at the moment any free time that he managed to scrape together was simply time when he thought even more about Will, and about Stephen, than he normally did.
At least Isaac was there. Isaac, who had been as good as his word, who had helped Judah keep things neat and tidy and organized, who had taken so many of the things which Judah had been spending so much of his time on. He had much more time for the Ministry now, for helping, and he owned that all to Isaac.
