Heartbeat Repeating - E.M. Lindsey Page 0,76

child with the big eyes and the infectious laugh who loved to steal raw pasta out of the mac and cheese box and preferred snap peas to fruit snacks. She will always be the little girl who never learned how to say ice lolly the right way and could recite the loop-swoop-and-pull when tying her shoes but whose chubby little fingers couldn’t figure out the motions.

She will always be the little being who loved him more than anyone on the planet ever will—but he doesn’t have to stop. Because loving again won’t diminish what was. Nothing can take his past from him.

He’s crying a little as he steps into the main room, and he finds Louis gone and his suitcase on the bed, open and ready. His brother knows him a little too well, and he appreciates that he has this moment to himself.

He packs methodically, neatly. He keeps his medication in his carry-on so he never has to lose sight of it, and he puts the little orca in his pocket because it fits perfectly in his hand when he needs to feel close to Avery. He takes a book, and an extra set of head phones, and more socks than he’ll need even if he stays for a week. He finds the gifts for Avery’s parents that he left behind on his escape, then he stops in his office for one last thing. He takes the papers off the edge of his desk, folding them delicately into thirds. They fit neatly in the inside pocket of his jacket, and he knows that this is going to be his gesture. This is all he’s got left to offer Avery.

His freedom.

He makes the call to have his plane ready, and then he sends a final text to Avery and hopes it’s not the last one that ever falls from his fingers.

Alejandro: There’s so much I need to say, and I know it’s wrong for me to show up without making sure you know I’m on my way, but this is all I can think of. I can’t let you go until I know for sure that’s what you want. I’ll see you soon.

He thinks about telling him that he loves him, but he knows better. It needs to be said to his face—with his own words, in his own voice. He needs Avery to feel it—the most honest truth he’s spoken in nearly a decade. And if it’s not enough, there’s nothing more he can do, and he can accept that.

As he reaches the runway and climbs the stairs, it’s starting to snow. He wonders if it’s snowing where Avery is too. He wonders if he’s outside in it, feeling the fat flakes melting on his skin and thinking about their kisses. Alejandro isn’t ready to live in a world where he can’t have more—where he can’t reach out for Avery and find him waiting, every time he needs him. So, he’s going to go. And he’s going to fight.

And if there’s any method to the madness in the world, he’s going to win.

19

Sealing The Cracks

The best thing about his parents’ new house is the window seat in the living room. It’s a built in, and his mother spent weeks searching for the perfect cushions. He sinks into them now with his socked feet buried in a couple of throw pillows and pulls a little figurine of ice skates out of his pocket. It was cold earlier in the day and has only gotten worse as he stares out at the sea of white. The neighbors have given up trying to manage the snow, and instead, the streets are filled with a sort of low-hanging fog made of fireplace smoke.

It feels…festive, in a strange way. The house smells like cinnamon because his mom is trying a new challah recipe she read on Pinterest, and he knows there are a couple of gifts wrapped up and waiting to be handed out after dinner. He managed to talk her out of guests but only because he promised to let her go all-out for his visit on New Year’s, and because he promised to sing the blessing tonight when they lit the chanukiah.

He doesn’t mind, really. He’s desperate for a distraction. His chest is still aching, and he can’t stop hearing Alejandro’s words to his husband playing over and over in his head. But he’s managed to keep his phone off and stay far away from the internet, because he’s fairly sure Alejandro