“I wondered what had happened to those letters your mom mailed.”
“Ah.” I remember now.
He takes a letter opener out, slitting both envelopes on top. Taking my hand, he pulls me down onto the couch, and we read side by side. Bile rises in my throat as I scan the correspondence from Ayden’s attorney. “What does this mean?” I whisper, clutching the paper in my fist.
Devin pulls a worried face. “I don’t know, but I guess there’s only one way to find out.” He grabs his cell, punching the number in.
“It’s Saturday. They’re probably closed for the weekend.”
“I’ll leave a message.”
I listen as he proceeds to do that. “Oh, hello,” he says, a few seconds later. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to pick up on a Saturday.” He nods while whoever it is talks on the other end of the line. His shoulder muscles are corded with tension, and his foot taps restlessly off the floor as he listens. “There was a mix-up, and the letters were sent to the wrong house. We’ve only just received them. Yes, Angelina Ward is here with me.” He glances at me, and I arch a brow. He links his fingers in mine. “Yes, we could be there in an hour. Okay. We’ll see you then. Thank you.”
He hangs up, leaning forward on his knees, expelling air from his mouth in a loud rush.
“Someone is there?”
He nods. “That was Mr. Fuller, the attorney who sent us the letters. He has a couple of appointments this morning, but he can squeeze us in. Ayden instructed him to send those to us on the fifth anniversary of his death.” He pins me with a grave look. “He has something for us. Something from Ayden.”
I smooth a hand over the sudden ache in my chest. “What do you think it is?”
He presses a kiss to my temple. “I’ve no idea, but maybe it will give us the answers we’ve been looking for.” Taking my hand, he hauls me to my feet and we go upstairs to get dressed.
I’m pacing the carpet in the small waiting room of the attorney’s office. My stomach is in knots, has been the entire ride here. Devin stands up, moving behind me. His hands go to my shoulders, and he digs his fingers in as he starts massaging my tense muscles. “Try to relax, baby. Whatever this is, we’re in it together.” I nod, wanting to reassure him. He kisses my cheek. “Always remember.” Circling his arms around my waist, he pulls me in to the comfort and safety of his body. He’s right. I can deal with this. Nothing I’m about to hear is going to change who we are or how far we’ve come.
The door swings open, and a small wiry man with a mop of thick gray hair steps out. He nods curtly, offering us a brief smile. “Mr. Morgan and Ms. Ward, I presume?”
Devin takes my hand, nodding in acknowledgment. I slant a brittle smile his way. “I’m Michael Fuller. Thank you for coming in on a Saturday. If you’ll follow me.” He gestures us inside.
“I can’t wait until you share my surname,” Dev whispers in my ear, leading me in to the attorney’s office. Although we haven’t discussed the specifics of our forthcoming nuptials, there’s no way I’m not taking my husband’s name. I can’t wait to be Mrs. Devin Morgan. Thinking it reminds me of all the times I doodled that name on the back of my school journal, bringing a smile to my face. It’s the perfect thing to say, helping to distract me and slay the edge off my nerves.
I grin at my husband-to-be and he winks. The attorney guides us to a circular table at the side of the room. We take seats alongside each other, and Devin automatically links our hands. Mr. Fuller remains standing, powering up a laptop that rests in the center of the table. He clears his throat. “Mr. Carter engaged my services shortly before his death. I thought it was strange for a young man of his age to be so concerned with his last will and testament, but I didn’t question it.” His expression highlights his regret. “He gave me a few sealed items for safekeeping. A few days after his death, I received a letter in the mail with various instructions. It seems he was well prepared.”
Devin and I share shocked expressions. I’ve always thought Ayden’s suicide was a spur of the moment thing, but this hints at premeditation, and that makes me unbelievably sad.
The attorney flicks a button on the laptop, and a video recording displays on the screen. I grip Devin’s hand tight. Ayden’s face is framed on the paused screen, and tears automatically well in my eyes.
“He wanted you both to watch this together,” he confirms.
I gnaw on the inside of my mouth, leaning into Dev, as the attorney presses the play button and quietly leaves the room. Tears stream down my face as I look at my friend. He’s exactly as I remember him with the exception of the resigned look on his face.
“Hey, guys.” Ayden leans forward, adjusting the webcam, before sitting back on the edge of his bed. The curtains are open, and it’s dark outside. “If you’re watching this, it means I did it. I finally summoned the courage to go through with it. I imagine you have lots of questions, and it didn’t feel right bowing out of this world without letting my two best friends know why I did what I did. I’ve deliberately instructed my attorney to wait five years before showing this to you, because I want to ensure you’re both in a good place when I tell you what I need to tell you. I’m hoping by now, you’ve come to terms with my death, and this will bring you that final closure.”
He says this so bluntly, without any show of emotion, as if he’s discussing whether to have raspberry or strawberry jelly on his toast.
“To put this in context,” he continues. “It’s the night before we’re due to leave for UI, and I’m about to break the news to you, Lina. I’m a chicken shit, because I should’ve told you how I was feeling, but I couldn’t bear to watch your heart break again. We’ve both done it to you now, and you deserve better.”
I close my eyes momentarily. Devin brushes his lips across my cheek, renewing me with courage. I open my damp eyes again.
On the screen, Ayden exhales deeply. “You need to forgive Devin,” he says. “Because he loves you the way a guy should love a girl. I’ve gotten in the way of that, and, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” He leans forward, and I see the anguish in his eyes. “I love you, Lina, I always have, and I always will, but I can’t love you the way you deserve to be loved. If I was going to love any girl, it’d be you. There is no girl sweeter, kinder, more generous, or more beautiful than you. I wanted to love you properly. I wanted that so badly, and I tried, but I can’t force myself to feel things I don’t.”
He looks away, and Devin and I lock gazes. I’m hearing what I didn’t hear back then. When Ayden starts speaking again, we return our attention to the screen. “I’m gay,” he admits in a low voice. “But I don’t want to be.” Tears glisten in his eyes. “I want to be normal. And I tried. I tried with you, Lina, but it wasn’t enough, and that’s not on you. That’s all on me.” He buries his face in his hands, and his shoulders heave as he cries. I place a hand over my mouth, and my heart is beating furiously in my chest. Never in a million years did I suspect this.
Ayden lifts his head, focusing on the camera again. “I’m sorry. I told myself I wouldn’t do this. I wanted to tell you for so long, but I couldn’t. Because admitting it out loud would be like accepting it, and I don’t want to accept it. I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want to have these feelings, and my whole life feels like one giant lie. The football dream was always my dad’s dream. It hasn’t been mine for years, but I’ve been too afraid to tell him.”
He laughs, and it’s bitter sounding. “I told him tonight, and he went apeshit on me. I told him I’ve joined the marines, and he’s threatened to disown me. Very soon, I’ll have no one left.” He hangs his head, and I want to reach into the past, hug my friend, and tell him it’s fine to be himself. That we love him no matter what. That his sexuality makes no difference to our friendship.
Devin is struggling to maintain composure beside me. I stroke his back, fighting the swell of emotion in my chest.
Ayden l
ooks back up at the camera. “I’ve deliberately interfered in your relationship with Devin, Lina, and I’m truly sorry for that. He’s right. I wanted to drive a wedge between you, because if you two are together, then our bond is broken, and I’ll be left on the outside. I couldn’t deal with that.” He gulps, and it looks painful. “But it’s more than that.” He wets his lips, clasping and unclasping his hands in his lap. “Because I love him too.”
Devin goes rigidly still.
“I love you, Devin, in the way a guy shouldn’t love another guy.” His voice cracks, and he breaks down sobbing. After a minute, he swipes angrily at his tears, speaking up again. “I was fifteen when I first began to understand I had certain inappropriate feelings for you. We were out at the lake. It was our first summer there without Grandpa Joe. We were drying off on the dock when Lina started crying.”
I remember it. My grandpa had only died three months previous, and it was still so raw. Being back at the lake had dredged tons of emotions to the surface, and I broke down in front of my friends.
“You went to her straightaway,” Ayden continues speaking. “You wrapped your arms around her and pulled her into your lap. You were whispering in her ear, kissing the top of her head, and running your hands up and down her arms.” He locks his hands behind his head. “I was so jealous, but then I realized I was jealous of Lina, not you. When I looked at you with your arms around her, I found myself wishing you had your arms around me.”
I’m a blubbering mess, tears flowing down my face unrestrained. Devin is deathly quiet beside me.
“From that point on, I was acutely aware of your presence, and it affected me in ways it shouldn’t. It didn’t take long for me to work out I was in love with you. I know you don’t return my feelings. I know you never will,” Ayden continues. His laugh is coarse. “There’s no doubting you’re hetero, and I know you love Lina, but that doesn’t seem to make any difference to me.”
He swipes at his tears again, brushing them away. “No matter what happened, our friendship was always destined to be ruined, man. We both love you, but I’ve always known who you’d choose.” He composes himself. “And I’m fine with that. I’ve learned to accept it. You are my two best friends, and I want you to be happy. I’m just getting in the way of that. And I’m so tired of it all. Tired of feeling this way. Why me? Why couldn’t I have just been normal?”
He straightens up. “I’m joining the marines because I figure there’s no better alpha male environment to be in. Maybe it’ll help. Maybe it’ll make things worse.” He shrugs. “If you’re listening to this, it means it didn’t work. It didn’t fix me. But at least you guys are together, and I’m not there to get in the way anymore. I’ll die happy knowing I’ve at least done something right.”
He moves to shut off the camera feed. “I’ll miss you guys. Know you’ve been the very best part of my life. Be happy, and take care of each other.”
The feed cuts out, and the screen pauses. My sobs are the only sound in the room, until Devin hops up, knocking his chair to the ground with a loud thud. He storms from the room, and I jump up, running after him.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Devin
I race out of the attorney’s office, barely thanking the guy, running down the stairs and out onto the sidewalk. Hunching over, I place my hands on my trembling knees, struggling to breathe. Ange is beside me then, wrapping her arm around my back, ushering soothing words. I cling to her, sucking oxygen deep into my lungs as I wait for the anxiety attack to pass.
When I’m more composed, I straighten up and let her guide me to the car. She takes charge, strapping me into the passenger seat and sliding behind the wheel. I lean my head back, closing my eyes, as the cyclone in my head reaches peak pressure. My head is a mess. My thoughts conflicted.
We drive for ages, in silence. She glances at me every few minutes, concern etched across her gorgeous face. I want to reassure her, but the knot in my chest has stolen my ability to speak. She’s handling this much better than me. Seeing Ayden’s face again was excruciatingly difficult but not as difficult as listening to what he had to say.
The car slows down, and I look out the window at the tall, gray gates of the cemetery. I’m not surprised she’s driven us here. I get out, stretching my neck from side to side in an effort to release some of the tension. She locks the car and takes my hand, and we walk quietly toward Ayden’s resting place.
We stop in front of his grave, holding hands and staring at the tombstone. Someone has been here recently. A low circular vase houses a bunch of vibrant purple and white carnations. Their signature scent wafts through the air. Ange breaks free of our hold, sinking to her knees on the grass. She sits cross-legged, and her voice is strained as she speaks.
“You should have told me. I would have understood. I can’t believe you suffered with that all alone. Don’t you know we would have loved you regardless? Your sexual orientation didn’t change who you were. You were still one of the best men I’ve ever known, and I’m so sad for you. That you had to deny what was intrinsic. That you felt there was something wrong with it. That you’re not here now to know how acceptable it’s become. That you didn’t get to live a full life. And I’m sorry for failing you. For not noticing what now seems abundantly clear. I love you, Ayden. You will always have a place in my heart.”
Her words are heartfelt, and underscored with compassion, demonstrating how far Ange really has come, how effectively she’s dealt with her guilt and her grief.
I wish I could say the same, but I can’t. The cyclone erupts in my head, and I lash out at my dead friend. “You’re an asshole,” I fume, pacing in front of his grave. “You stupid, selfish, cowardly, motherfucking asshole. How dare you keep that from us! How dare you kill yourself rather than admit the truth to the people who loved you unconditionally. How dare you deny yourself truth and acceptance. It’s inexcusable, and if you were here, I’d punch your lights out.”
My pacing accelerates, rage boiling in my veins. “We were your best friends. I told you everything that last summer. You knew all my secrets, but you were hording yours. I may not have reciprocated your feelings, and, hell, at the time I probably would’ve freaked the fuck out that you loved me, but you still should’ve told us.”
I drop down beside Ange, leaning my head on her shoulders as my anger gives way to sorrow. We’re both quiet for a while. “You know, there were a couple times where I wondered if he might be gay,” I tell her. “But I always dismissed it because he dated girls, he had sex with girls, and I thought the vibes I felt were wrong. Maybe if all that shit hadn’t been going down at home, I might’ve paid more attention.”
“We all had our own stuff going on, Dev. Ayden should have told us, and I hate that he thought he couldn’t.”
“My heart aches for you, man. I know what it’s like to struggle with the person you are and how tormented that feels at times. I wish you’d confided in me. I wish you hadn’t felt like you’d no choice.” My chest aches. “I wish you were here, so I could kick your stupid ass.”
Ange looks up at the darkening sky. “Wherever you are, Ayd, know how much we love you.”
“How much we miss you,” I add.
“And that you’re forgiven,” she says, her voice clogged with emotion. She looks at me, her eyes probing to see if it’s true, if I’ve forgiven him too.
I glance up at the sky. “I should hate you for the pain you’ve put us through. You deliberately sabotaged my relationship with Ange while you were alive, and in death, you stole her from me too. But I’m done with hate. And I’m done with regret.” I kiss Ange on the lips. “I have the woman of my dreams by my side, and all that would make life complete is my best friend at my other side.” Sobs burst free of my soul, and I give in to them. “I wish you hadn’t taken yourself from my life, but I forgive you, buddy. And I love you. You’ve given me more than you’ll ever realize.”
A
nge cries, and I wrap my arms around her, holding her close as we both finally unburden ourselves fully. It’s pitch-black and freezing cold by the time we get up. “Let’s get you home and get you warm,” I tell her, bundling her into my side as we walk away.
A man steps out from under the shadow of a nearby tree, startling both of us.
“I apologize,” he says, in a rich, sonorous voice. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. My name’s Tom, and I was a friend of Ayden’s.”
I regard him warily. We know most of Ayden’s friends, and this guy doesn’t look familiar. “We were in the marines together,” he adds, detecting my suspicion. “I didn’t mean to intrude, but I came to pay my respects before I leave town. I was here this morning, and something brought me back here on my way to the airport.” He smiles, removing his glove, and extending his hand. “You must be Devin and Angelina. He told me all about you.”
I shake his hand and then Ange does. “We are, but I’m afraid he didn’t mention you,” I tell him, somewhat apologetically.
His sad smile is knowing. “That doesn’t surprise me in the least.” He looks between us. “I have an hour to spare. Could we go somewhere warm to talk?”
I look to Ange, and her eyes reveal her agreement. “Sure. I know a coffee place off Plymouth Road. Just follow us.”
Ten minutes later, we’re tucked into a quiet corner of the coffee shop. Ange and I are sipping coffees, while Tom drinks a green tea. He leans his elbows on the table. “Ayden talked about you both all the time. I know how close you all were.”
“He was our best friend,” Ange supplies. “And his death devastated us.”
Tom nods. “Me too. I’d often thought of looking you guys up, but Ayden couldn’t admit he was homosexual, so I doubted he had told you.” His eyes are earnest as his gaze bounces between us. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard the tail end of what you said back in the cemetery, so, you’re aware that he was gay?”
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