Forever Yours
By Kassandra Lea
Published by JMS Books LLC
Visit jms-books.com for more information.
Copyright 2019 Kassandra Lea
ISBN 9781634868839
Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com
Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.
All rights reserved.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
* * * *
Forever Yours
By Kassandra Lea
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 1
“Please don’t be mad.”
Linus Murray winced at the softly spoken plea uttered in an attempt to repair the damage already done. He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest in hopes he could hold himself together long enough, but already he could feel the bitter burn of tears. Before long they’d be leaving salty streams down his cheeks, the pain he felt in his chest looking to escape any way it could. His fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, clutching at himself.
Piece by piece it seemed like his world was crumbling and the only one Linus had to blame was himself.
How many times had they been down this road, hitting all the same potholes until the tires were rendered flat? Why did Linus keep foolishly thinking things had changed, that somewhere along the way they’d get it right and continue traveling smoothly? Why did he always feel like flipping on the blinker and making that dreaded turn, even though by now the dead end sign flashed neon as a warning to turn around?
“Linus, please say something.”
Say something, hadn’t enough already been said, at least that which mattered?
Linus held himself harder, feeling the cracks spread across his heart. He should have been used to the words by now, should have been able to recite them in his sleep. Why couldn’t he find a way to rewrite the script? Who had the eraser? He closed his eyes in an attempt to hold back the impending flood. Not here, not right now, he thought.
Linus took a deep breath and let it out, shuddering. He needed to move, to get out before he suffocated on the sadness, before the doubts began to wiggle out of the depths of his mind with the intent to further destroy him.
There came the sound of a chair whispering over the fibers of a rug as it was pushed back. Please don’t come over here. Please don’t touch me. Still, Linus braced for it, curious to see if the touch of the man he loved brought even a hint of comfort or just more pain. He suspected it would be enough to leave him shattered.
“Linus…”
He opened his eyes, meeting Samson Abbot’s gaze. Those dark chocolate eyes, he used to tumble into them so effortlessly, but right now all Linus wanted was to focus on something else. So he glared at the toaster behind and just to the right of Samson. He completely ignored the red vase of brightly colored flowers, the ones that came yesterday with a card tucked neatly in amongst delicate petals.
Samson reached for him. “Linus, please, talk to me.”
Before Samson could make contact, Linus ducked away, suddenly feeling the need to get out of the kitchen, perhaps even out of the house. It was hard to say where the resolve bubbled up from, maybe it had crept in when he asked the same question for the umpteenth time, waiting silently in the shadows until this very moment. Wherever it came from, Linus moved, heading for the front door.
“Linus,” Samson trailed after him. “Where are you going?”
Why do you care, he wanted to fire back. As he slipped on his sneakers Linus could have sworn the walls started to close in around him. “Out,” he finally choked out a word.
“Out? It’s only like thirty degrees.”
Linus snatched up his mittens, shoving them into the pocket of his hoodie. He decided to remain quiet.
“Can it wait? We need to talk about this,” Samson continued in his same pleading tone.
Little by little the sadness was morphing, letting itself fall away so that anger could sweep in. Linus tried to bite his tongue, afraid he might say something in the heat of the moment and come to regret it later. But none of that seemed to matter anymore. The more he thought about it, the more he came to realize that their love for each other, their individual desires in this relationship were in different places.
He would have given Samson the moon if it was his to give.
The same couldn’t be said for Samson.
So what remained to be talked about?
“I think enough has been said,” Linus spoke, his voice surprisingly calm, his hand on the doorknob. “There isn’t anything left.”
Samson’s brow creased. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”
He could have clarified his comment, simply pointed out that the conversation had run its course and now he wanted some space to breathe, to think. But why did he have to be the only one hurting in all of this? Why did he have to stand by and watch the future he wanted disappear like a puff of smoke in a strong wind? No, Linus decided, let Samson stew, let him fret over the meaning of those words.
Without even so much as a glance back, Linus slipped out the door.
* * * *
Samson watched as the door closed behind Linus. He found himself torn, wanting to go after Linus and take him by the wrist, keep him from leaving until they got this sorted, but maybe it was the right thing to do, letting Linus walk away. A little distance between them and the issue at hand might generate some clarity. He hoped. Still, he stayed in the foyer a bit longer in case Linus changed his mind.
Eventually, however, he returned to the kitchen, picking up the small mess they’d made while preparing breakfast. Everything had been perfect when they got up that morning, the two of them dipping into the shower together for a bit of fooling around. They’d laughed and speculated on the day’s plans, not really settling on any one thing, when Linus broached the subject yet again.
The very same one that always brought a dark cloud with it, Eeyore style.
Samson deposited the dirty dishes in the sink, then turned on the water, waiting for it to warm up. While it did, he wiped down the counters. Cleaning, it was how he dealt with stress and problems that he otherwise couldn’t fix.
And this one was a doozy, to say the least.
When he reached the artfully done bouquet, Samson paused, reaching out to caress the petal of a pink-hued lily. This time of the year roses were supposed to be the in thing, the go-to flower to express love, but he knew how much Linus disliked the bloom, so he always went looking for something more exotic, something different. The heart-shaped card was resting against the vase and it contained words he hoped expressed t
he way he felt. Words he dug up from the depths of his heart.
“Why does he always have to bring up marriage?” Samson asked the empty house. “Why is what we have not enough for him?”
Why did Linus feel the need for rings and vows and a piece of paperwork when none of those things changed the depth of their love? Scrubbing the pan he used to cook bacon, Samson began to speculate if maybe that was the root cause, his love as it was didn’t measure up to whatever idea Linus had in mind. His stomach knotted at the idea and suddenly he no longer cared about the dishes. They were trivial, inconsequential.
Samson shut off the tap and dried his hands. This was why he’d wanted to talk things out with Linus, to figure out where they were headed and if perhaps there might be a compromise.
He second guessed his earlier choice. He should have gone after Linus, if for nothing else than to let him know that this wasn’t going to tear them apart. They’d find a way.
“That’s it,” grumbled Samson, throwing down the towel, literally, and heading for the door.
Much as Linus had done, he slipped on his sneakers. From a peg on the wall he snatched up his car keys. While jogging was more a Linus pastime, Samson did occasionally join him and knew all of Linus’s favorite routes. Tracking him down should be easy enough.
Samson was about to leave, slipping on his coat, when he heard a song from a classic eighties movie. He paused, his brain taking a second or two to process the otherwise odd occurrence in the quiet house. Then it dawned on him, it was the ringtone Linus had recently picked for his cell phone, muttering something about a change while he did it. Samson let the tune guide him back into the kitchen where the device waited to be answered.
Should he?
He glanced at the screen to see if he knew the number. He didn’t. Gut feeling told him to answer it anyway, he’d deal with the potential argument later.
Samson picked up the phone as the song began to wind down. He hit the talk button. “Hello?”
Chapter 2
Linus slowed, breathing fast, his heart racing. Sweat coated his body, his T-shirt clinging to the small of his back, sleeves of his hoodie pushed up, strands of hair plastered to his forehead. The second he hit the end of the driveway he’d started running, desperate to put distance between him and the black cloud lingering over their house. He ran blind, unfocused, no clear direction in mind, and now his legs ached and his lungs burned. A droplet of sweat stung his eye. Linus wiped it away.
He paused, bent forward with his hands on his knees, drawing in deep breaths of the chilled February air, and letting them out slowly. It was a technique he learned years ago when he ran track in school. Already he could feel his heart rate decreasing to a normal rhythm.
When things felt more manageable, Linus started walking, driven by thirst. The gravel path he followed was a familiar one and he knew around the next bend he’d find a water fountain, a bench, and the serenity of a pond, most likely frozen by the icy touch of winter. The cheerful song of a blue jay accompanied him as he strolled. While winter was easily his favorite season, he often found he missed the chirping of birds, most of which fled the area when the snow arrived.
Linus stopped at the fountain, savoring the cold liquid. Then he wandered over to the bench and fell on to it, ignoring the gold-plated inscription on the back. It simply served as another reminder of his unhappiness. What, he wondered, did Samson have against getting married? Some might argue it boiled down to fear of commitment, but they’d been together nearly seven years. They owned a house together.
Marriage, to Linus at least, seemed like the next logical move.
And if Samson refused to walk down the aisle, did that mean starting a family was out of the question as well?
Linus worried his bottom lip between his teeth. The hurt quickly washed back in, circling around his heart. Was his love not enough? Did he not measure up to Samson’s idea of the perfect mate? Had Samson merely settled for him? Each subsequent thought plopped in his stomach like a stone and he began to feel sick. Had the last seven years been a lie?
The tears returned.
Linus swiped a hand across his eyes, banishing the depressing thoughts. At least for the time being. He pushed his sleeves down, a shiver passing over his body. He took a deep breath, exhaling it slowly, staring out at the serene water. The surface of the pond wasn’t entirely frozen and the center sparkled in the mid-morning sunlight. A handful of geese bobbed on the water; shouldn’t they have all been down south? Linus melted against the wood of the bench, the tension easing from his body.
There came the familiar crunch of gravel under foot and Linus suspected another jogger. He glanced over his shoulder thinking it might be nice to have company, a friend to distract his mind, but when the person came into view his mood soured.
“What, did you come out here to drive the knife further into my heart?” Linus resumed looking at the pond, instantly crossing his arms over his chest.
“Okay, ouch,” countered Samson. He stopped beside the bench, then stepped around, offering his hand to Linus, who shot him a glare and clenched his jaw. “Linus, please. You have every right to be mad and your anger is valid, but—”
Linus hopped off the bench. “Seriously, you tracked me down to continue arguing with me? I get it, Samson, I’m not the kind of guy you want to spend the rest of your life with, and since that’s the case, I’ll make things easy for you. You can have the house. I’m done.”
Samson blinked, taking a step back.
Some of the fight went out of Linus. His own declaration had taken him by surprise. “I’m just done,” he said quietly, then turned to walk away.
His progress was halted by Samson taking hold of his wrist. “Linus, please.”
At this rate he sounded like a broken record. Does he have anything else to say? Is that it? “I’d like you to leave me alone, please.” Linus could feel his heart breaking, the finality of his words like a hammer.
“Linus, there’s been an accident.”
He stared at Samson, the abrupt change knocking him for a spin, the words taking a while to register. “What?”
“The cops called,” Samson explained, relinquishing his hold. “Your sister and her husband were in an accident. They’re at the hospital.”
* * * *
Silence accompanied them on the walk to the parking lot. Samson made more than one attempt to talk, opening his mouth only to close it a heartbeat later. Anything he planned to say sounded wrong, dying on his lips before it was given breath. He struggled, though, with grasping the end of things, refusing to believe they were officially over. Anger had a way of getting a man to say things out of spite.
Still…
Samson wondered what he’d do if it was true, if he’d accept the end and move on or find a way to make it right. Easy enough. Linus wants to get married. Give him a ring. He glanced at his beloved out of the corner of his eye. He loved absolutely everything about Linus, from his hazel eyes to his sandy hair, the strong cut of his jaw and the softness of his smile. He even loved Linus’s stubborn streak despite the fact it meant the chance of an argument; it was born of passion and ambition.
Life lost its zest without Linus at his side.
So what kept him from taking the next step?
They made it back to the lot before the reality of the news hit Linus. Samson saw him stumble, reaching for him a second too late. Linus crumbled, falling to his knees in the gravel, a sob bubbling out of him. Samson reacted on impulse, all thoughts of the fight banished, as he went to Linus, kneeling before him, the cold seeping into the denim of his jeans, and drawing him into what he prayed was a comforting embrace. After what had been said Samson expected Linus to push him away. Instead he felt Linus grip fistfuls of his shirt and cling to him.
Some might have deemed it an overly dramatic response given the bare bones of the news. The injuries sustained, the potential outcome, it remained unknown until they reached the hospital, and already Linus was falling apart. Sams
on suspected the tears wetting his shirt contained more than anguish for hurt family members.
Samson closed his eyes, holding Linus, worrying it might be the last chance he got. He wanted to savor it. To linger in the faint perfume of the body mist Linus favored. To feel Linus’s body pressed close to his. To sense every beat his heart took.
Whether it was desperation or desire, Samson rocked back just a little, enough to reach through the emotional fog surrounding Linus. Damp hazel eyes glanced up to meet his, and Samson acted on impulse. He kissed Linus, finding his lover’s lips salty with sorrow and sweat. He held his hand gently to the back of Linus’s neck, moving his thumb up and down. Linus melted against him, giving Samson hope that the earlier declaration meant nothing.
He ended the kiss, brushing his lips along the wet tracks left on Linus’s cheeks. Wrapped up in Linus, Samson felt safe, secure, like everything was right and sane in his world. Only to feel like a complete and utter heel a second later when reality cruelly rushed back in. It was ushered along by the sound of car doors slamming and the laughter of fresh arrivals at the park. The intimate moment ended.
Linus gathered himself, pulling away. He rubbed a hand over his face, sniffling, and averted his gaze. Samson shivered. He sighed, wishing everything could be magically fixed and back to the way it used to be.
He got to his feet, offering a hand to Linus. The meeting of their hands was fleeting, Linus snatching his back as soon as he stood. They resumed their journey to Samson’s waiting SUV. The newly arrived couple passed them by, the man chatting about some movie he wanted to see, and the woman watching them. She offered Samson a friendly, sympathetic smile. Love spurned everyone eventually.
From his pocket Samson pulled his keys, hitting the fob twice and allowing Linus to duck into the shadowy interior. As he walked around the front bumper, Samson yearned to find the courage to speak up, to at least ask Linus if he truly meant it when he said they were done. But maybe he didn’t really want to hear the answer, afraid it might destroy him.
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