Finding You: The Complete Box Set (a contemporary MM romance series)

by Ana Ashley

  She gave me a knowing look and left me to carry on reading.

  24 December 2006

  Dorian Charles

  345 East 72nd Street,

  10021 New York

  USA

  Dear Jean-Paul

  Merry Christmas!

  I know we will speak on the phone later but I still wanted to write. I will always want to write to you. Somehow it feels less awkward and I always feel braver saying how I feel on paper.

  It's been a year since I had the best Christmas of my life, and there isn't a day that I don't think of my trip to Paris, especially Christmas Eve.

  Walking the streets of Paris and exploring together will forever be the best Christmas I will ever have. Something really special would have to happen to top last year.

  Jean-Paul, I miss you so much. I used to think the letters were enough. We now talk on the phone sometimes and it's still not enough.

  I dream of that first kiss when we were in the gardens in front of Le Louvre, and I wish I could go back to that moment again, every day.

  I wish you, your mom and Audrey a very merry Christmas.

  Your best friend,

  Dorian

  Our first kiss. It had been so perfect. Unexpected, inexperienced but so perfect.

  My heart rate picked up pace as I remembered it all.

  We'd bought two chocolate croissants in a café. They were still warm in the bags so we decided to have them in the gardens in front of Le Louvre. There was a grassy area with tall hedges, and I knew that sometimes there were iron chairs between the hedges for visitors to enjoy. In the summer it was nice sitting on the grass but not in the winter.

  There were a few tourists walking around, but mostly going straight to Le Louvre, probably to finish their Christmas shopping at the mall.

  The place we found the two empty green metal chairs was quite secluded. Not that we'd noticed at the time, since we were too busy munching on the chocolate croissants.

  I loved the buttery, flaky pastry of a croissant, and with the added chocolate I'd been in food heaven. I hadn't realized I'd closed my eyes to enjoy the flavors until I heard something moving and opened them again.

  Dorian had leaned closer toward me in his chair. I couldn't read the expression on his face but his eyes were trained on my mouth. I wondered if I had some chocolate so I licked my lips.

  We were standing so close together it felt like there was nothing else around us, no people, no Louvre, no Paris, just us.

  He raised his hand like he wanted to touch me but he didn't. His fingers hovered just millimeters away from my lips. I'd closed my eyes, waiting, I didn't know what for.

  When our lips met it was soft and slow, like Dorian was trying it for size.

  When I opened my eyes I saw he’d put a few inches between us, his eyes on mine. I wasn't sure if he'd liked the kiss or not. I knew I wanted more, but the doubt creeped into me and I suddenly felt cold until Dorian put his hand around my neck and pulled me in for another kiss, this one more demanding, hot, messy and so good.

  The memory alone was making me hard. Merde!

  7

  Dorian

  As soon as I saw the date on the next letter I picked up I knew what it was. The first of many that had gone unanswered, and seeing the worst time of my life documented was a painful reminder of what I'd done.

  Even before I started reading I had tears streaming down my face. I was powerless to stop them, but I felt I needed to read the letter. To remind myself.

  3 October 2007

  Jean-Paul Bertram

  47 Rue Des Fleurs,

  75014 Paris

  France

  Dear Dorian,

  You will never believe the news I have to share with you. I am so excited!

  Do you remember I said I was entering a photography competition? The theme was "Things that make you smile."

  I didn't know what to photograph so I made a list:

  -My mother when she's cooking and singing to herself not knowing I'm listening.

  -The change of autumn into winter because Christmas is coming and I love all the colors of Christmas.

  -The look in your eyes when you talk about something you are really passionate about, like pizza, or helping others.

  -Food!

  I figured that the time of the competition was perfect to capture the different shades of orangey-red of the trees in that park we went to when you were last here. The sun was perfect when I got there, and still bright but just low enough to light up and frame the leaves on the trees. It was magical.

  My photograph won first prize and will be used on he cover of the magazine. I also won a cash prize and will receive royalties every time the photo is used. This means I'll have enough money to accept the place at the cookery school!!!!

  Dorian, I am going to the Cordon Bleu!!

  I really wish you were here to celebrate with me. I included a copy of THE photo for you and another photo of my mom and me celebrating.

  I look forward to hear from you soon.

  You best friend,

  Jean-Paul

  I went straight to the next one.

  2 February 2008

  Jean-Paul Bertram

  47 Rue Des Fleurs,

  75014 Paris

  France

  Dear Dorian,

  I am unsure how to start this letter. You didn't reply to my last two letters. I am worried.

  You don't answer the phone either. I don't know if you are sick or if something happened.

  We have been writing to each other for nearly 10 years and this is the first time I've hated myself for thinking it was a good idea to keep our correspondence by letter.

  "We'll be like those people from the old movies," you said.

  "We'll have all the memories written down," you said.

  "We'll never be alone for as long as the postman keeps bringing the letters," you said.

  Well, you lied! Because I am alone! Where is my best friend?

  But you know what? I will keep writing. I will keep sending letters until the day they return back to me. Until then I have to believe that somehow you are getting them and I will remind you that I am still here. I am still your best friend.

  With love,

  Jean-Paul

  My phone rang giving me some respite from the heavy emotions and regret going through me.

  "Hi Kat," I answered, seeing my sister's name on the screen.

  "Hey Dor. How's it going?"

  "Great," I half-lied, "I've got everything ready. Are you at the hotel yet?"

  "Yeah just arrived."

  "That's great, settle in and call me tomorrow," I said wanting to finish the call. Kat was always too perceptive and I knew she was going to pick up on my mood.

  "Dorian." She said with a warning tone in her voice.

  I took a deep breath.

  "I found a box with the letters I got from Jean-Paul. I was just reading the ones from around the time mom died.

  "Oh Dor." I heard the sadness in her voice. She knew how I had handled things back then.

  "I couldn't help myself, I had to read them."

  "You know how that story ends, Dor, don't let it get you down."

  "Thanks Kat. Can't wait to see you after tomorrow. Is Ash with you?"

  "He is. Love you big bro."

  "Love you too, Kat."

  I had just over one hour before I had to leave so I kept reading.

  8

  Jean-Paul

  I saw it peeking out from a group of letters. It stood out because unlike all the other envelopes, this one didn't look pristine. It was worn out from how many times I'd taken the letter out to read it.

  Even after I could recite each word from memory I'd still needed to see the handwriting for myself each time.

  I took the letter out carefully and took a deep breath before reading.

  20 September 2010

  Dorian Charles

  345 East 72nd Street,

  10021 New York
>
  USA

  Dear Jean-Paul

  Wow, it's been a long time since I wrote those words. There is so much to explain and I don't even know if I deserve the chance to explain but I'm going to try, and I hope you can forgive my absence once you've read my story.

  My mom became suddenly ill shortly after I returned from Paris 3 years ago. We have reason to believe she knew for a while she was unwell, but that she didn't want to worry us.

  The day I came home after my college interview I found her on the floor, collapsed.

  I took her to hospital and she was there for a month until she died at the end of January. It was the most difficult time in my life.

  My brother and sister relied on me for strength while my dad completely checked out from grief.

  I should have told you, I should have written back but the reality is that I didn't know how to handle things. I was grieving my mom's death, looking after Kat, Ash and helping my dad.

  It took us 2 years until we were back on our feet. By then I'd been in college for almost the same time and my focus turned from the family towards working on the only thing I could control, my grades.

  I received every single one of your letters. I couldn't open them. I couldn't bear to feel that I had let you down, and I silently hoped that for as long as they kept coming I wasn't alone.

  It was a lie and I was selfish, because the truth was that I was alone. I didn't let anyone in, I didn't make friends, I didn't go out and I even stopped spending time at home.

  I spent my days and nights at the University Library.

  People tend to be quiet there so it was a safe place. Inside I hurt so much but I didn't know how to reach out, especially after all the time that had passed.

  You could have confused me for a robot, or a zombie if you saw me. I was on automatic pilot, like life was happening but I wasn't in control.

  I couldn't see the words for all the tears running down my eyes. The thought that my best friend had suffered so much all alone broke my heart, but the thought that he hadn't sought me out for comfort was a different level of hurt.

  "Jean-Paul, mon chéri, what happened?" Mom said sitting down next to me.

  Reading the letters took me back to the past in such a way that it felt real, like the present moment.

  "Maman, I... I was reading the first letter he sent after his mom died."

  "Oh mon chéri. Why are you upset? You know what happened."

  "I know, Maman, but it's too hard to think he went through all that on his own."

  She kissed the top of my head and left me with the letters again.

  Nothing changed until this kid disturbed my peace. He wasn't older than 16. He started sitting next to me every night. I wasn't even sure how he got in the library. He used to pick up a book and sit there, not reading it, not looking at anyone.

  I wasn't sure what to make of him. He was a silent pest and I wanted to tell him to go away and at the same time I wanted to keep him there because I wasn't so lonely when he was there.

  One day, after about 6 months, he stopped coming in. It felt weird not seeing him there, but I figured he got bored. Three months later I was still thinking about the kid so I asked the librarian if she knew who he was.

  She wasn't allowed to give me any information but I think she was worried about him too because she looked around and then showed me a copy of his library card.

  His name was Justin Peters, JP, the same initials as you. It made me smile when I looked at the card.

  For a month I looked at newspapers, on the Internet, everywhere I could try just to see if I could find him. One day the librarian showed me a newspaper article in which a young kid of 17 years old with no identification had been killed on the street as the result of a homophobic attack.

  I don't know why but I had a bad feeling about it so I contacted the police and showed them the library card.

  I don't know what they did after that. I wasn't related to him so all I could do was tell them how I knew about Justin and let it go.

  After that I went to speak to the university counselor.

  It has taken me a lot to get to this point, and despite telling you the truth now, I still feel undeserving of your forgiveness, but I'm going to be selfish once more and ask for it anyway.

  Jean-Paul, I would like to see you. No, I need to see you. If I come to Paris will you see me?

  Please say yes.

  Yours,

  Dorian

  "Yes, Dorian, a million times yes," I said out loud to myself.

  9

  Dorian

  The three years after my mom died became known at home as the dark ages. It was kind of a joke but in a way it wasn't. We all suffered in our own ways. In the end we came thought it together. I just wished I'd sought help sooner.

  I’d missed out on so much stuff in Kat and Ash's lives and at some point, in my self imposed role of caretaker for everybody, including my dad, I forgot to look after myself, which meant I became unable to look after them.

  After I send Jean-Paul my apology letter I'd reassessed my life with the help of my therapist.

  I hadn't expected a reply from Jean-Paul, but I got it nonetheless. How could I doubt that he would be there for me?

  Even after all those years he was still my best friend.

  After that I did my best to make sure kids like Justin would have a safe place to go, a refuge. Somewhere where they could find someone to talk to, someone who would understand and offer them the support and education they needed.

  I had some money from my mom's inheritance that I hadn't used. Suddenly the business degree I had been so focused on took on a new purpose. I was going to open my own LGBTQ Youth Center.

  And I did.

  In the last six years we’d helped countless kids and I knew each individual one by name. I knew their story and I could proudly tell anyone all their achievements like a proud parent.

  There was only one place I was happier than when I was at the center, and that was at home.

  10 February 2011

  Jean-Paul Bertram

  47 Rue Des Fleurs,

  75014 Paris

  France

  Dear Dorian,

  I'm so sorry my first letter this year is coming to you so late. A lot of things happened and my mom had the flu so I spent a lot of time looking after her.

  She is feeling better now and sends her regards to you. She misses you too, although not as much as I miss you.

  First of all I have to say that even though we hadn't seen each other for years, seeing you at Christmas again was like no time had passed.

  Yes, we are both a little older and maybe have some more responsibilities, but we are still us.

  I also have to apologize for Pierre's behavior. He's a good friend but he shouldn't have treated you like he did. I know I already apologized to you when it happened but I have since had a conversation with him.

  Pierre told me he had feelings for me and that he was jealous of our friendship. I don't know why he would be jealous but anyway I told him I didn't like him in that way so he decided he doesn't want to see me any more.

  The other reason I waited to write to you is that I have some exciting news.

  A few weeks ago I did a video audition to apply for a placement at the Palm Court Restaurant at the Plaza in New York as Sous Chef. They were happy with my skills and asked me to go to New York so they can meet me.

  This means I'm going to New York!!!!!! In 3 weeks to be exact!!!!!

  I won't be there very long but I hope we can still meet up. I'd love to visit the sights with you and also meet your dad, Kat and Ash.

  Until we meet again,

  Jean-Paul

  The day Jean-Paul called me to say he was moving to New York for good was the second best day of my life. His visit months earlier had been so fleeting we'd only spent a day together.

  He thought it was more important to meet my family so we spent the day at my dad's house with Kat and Ash.

 
I'd been living on my own for a little while and looking for a roommate, not because I needed one, but because I wanted the company. Once Jean-Paul said he was moving to New York we decided he would live with me.

  Kat and Ash suddenly became really interested in the activities of my apartment and teasing that I was living with my boyfriend.

  I knew they were teasing but inside there was nothing I wanted more. Jean-Paul was my best friend and my rock. The proof of that was that when I'd stayed away my life had more or less imploded.

  With him in my life everything made sense. All the colors were brighter and everything tasted better.

  And that was why I couldn't afford to lose him if it turned out he didn't share the same feelings for me.

  10

  Jean-Paul

  "Maman," I called out and my mom came to the room within mere seconds.

  "Yes?"

  "Can I ask you a question?"