Van told him. He leaned on the counter, his expression helpless, and Adam almost felt sorry for him. “I don’t know why he shut you out.”
“Well, your guess is as good as mine. He just…stopped.” Stopped calling, stopped caring, stopped wanting him. It all just stopped.
Van closed his eyes slowly, then opened them. “Will you come?”
“To the funeral?” Adam asked, and he fought back another laugh. “Why the hell would I do that? I didn’t even know your dad.”
“Because he needs you.” Van folded his hands on the counter and bowed his head. “He won’t say it, won’t admit it, but he does.”
“What makes you think that I want to put myself in a position to be thrown out at your father’s funeral?” Adam demanded. He rose, not caring that he was drawing attention, not caring that Van had gone pale and had taken a step back. “I tried to be there. I don’t even know what the fuck I did wrong, but it took nothing at all for him to just fling me aside.” Adam stopped, his breath shaking in his chest, and he crossed his arms. “Ask Jay to go. They’re still talking.” At least, he thought they were still talking. Adam was avoiding asking because it was just too painful to know.
Van wrung his hands, then took a step closer. “He’s never loved anyone the way he loves you. Not even close. I don’t know why he’s doing this. I don’t know what caused it. All I know is that he’s an expert at shutting himself down when life gets to be too much, but it’s killing him.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Please.”
Adam’s resolve was faltering—as hard as he tried to hold on to it. In truth, the idea that Nik was suffering, that it was bad enough Van would seek him out—it crushed him. He fought the urge to press a hand to his sternum where he could almost feel his heartbreak like a tangible, physical thing.
“Where is it?” he finally asked. He might have, only for a second, considered Van was doing this only to drive Adam away for good, but there was no way to fake the emotion on his face. Not that raw, not that real.
Van rattled off the name of some church Adam remembered seeing on his drive in to work, and he nodded, committing it to memory. “If he loses his shit and throws me out…”
“He won’t,” Van said, sounding too sure of himself.
Adam couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have such unerring faith in something. He had come close—once—with Nik. But that was shattered into a billion tiny pieces. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get them all back, either, even if they tried to patch things up. But at the very least, he could do this. He could be there for him.
“If it gets bad tonight,” Adam started, and Van gave a sharp nod.
“I’ll call you.”
It was the most he could ask for. Now just came the long, agonizing hours of waiting until he could see Nik again. He realized in that moment, he was facing another cliff, another jump, but he wasn’t sure if he could take it this time.
Chapter 23
En Cédant
There were no words to describe what it was like to truly feel death. To press fingers to a pulse as it slowed, stuttered, and stopped. He’d been with his father most of the day, listening to the way his breathing would shudder and pause, and he’d think, ‘is this the moment’ before it started again. For a short while, he let himself indulge in a fantasy where the hand of some god or another reached down and curled around his father and then he woke.
He was cured.
His brain had stopped rotting, his body had repaired itself, and he was whole again.
A foolish thing, really, but all of Nik’s life was nothing more than an empty pit since he turned away from Adam. He made the call to Van, then told Adam to let him be. It was the last thing in the world he wanted, and the only thing in the world he thought he needed. The choice of staying here and becoming the man in the bed wasting away—it was too much to bear. He loved Adam, but that much?
It was easier to cut ties now, when their hearts were still capable of mending. He cried for a while, as he felt the last of his father ebb away. The