to normal, but would the man still be the same? Would they have even gotten together? Tomorrow Jay would be bleary-eyed and Michael would be apologetic. Next week they’d both be in the therapist’s office, providing details and begging for answers.
Jay gazed down at the still form that, for now, lay peacefully asleep. Even if he had to stay awake every single night of his life and go to therapy with Michael every day, he would. He’d be there through the aftermath.
He reached into the nightstand drawer, pulling out a picture taken five years ago, when Michael had first been inducted into the military. The recruit in the photo appeared so young, so untainted by doubt and self-recriminations; just another teen, leaving home for the first time. Though Michael refused to look at the picture, Jay cherished the image, having fallen in love with its subject years before meeting the man in person.
At a time in his life when he’d been depressed and lonely, Jay had found this picture, or rather, been given it by Angie, adopting the soldier within as friend and confidant. He ran a hand over this earlier version of the man who now lay beside him. When he’d first seen this dear face, he never would have believed that, four years later, Michael would fill those roles in truth. Dog-eared and frayed from excessive handling, now protected in a glass frame, this photo had brought Jay comfort even before he’d had a chance to return the favor. He replaced the precious keepsake in the drawer.
His resumed reading the book on PTSD that he’d hidden beneath the cover of an engineering manual. He studied all he could find on the subject, attended counseling sessions with Michael, and did everything else he could think of to be loving and supportive. All the while he knew that, never having been to war, he could never fully understand what Michael had endured, and was still enduring. If he couldn’t understand, at least he could be understanding.
“I promised once to give you whatever you needed. I meant it then, and I mean it now. I’ll always mean it.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against Michael’s forehead. “Te amo, querido; y buenas noches. I am here. You don’t have to face this alone.”
In his sleep Michael wrapped his arms around Jay, muttering, “Love you.”
And that, in Jay’s eyes, made every effort worthwhile. The love he and his partner shared was worth fighting for. Michael wasn’t broken, merely dented by war.
Michael had been the soldier on duty on a faraway battlefield. Tonight, on the battlefield of bitter memories, the watch belonged to Jay.
Same Time Next Year
Same Time Next Year
“I still can’t believe that your folks sprang for a brand-new Mustang convertible for graduation and all I have to drive is my sister’s hand-me-down clunker. It must be nice.” Jerome ran a hand down one sleek fender, watching his reflection in the shiny black surface. Far from jealous, he was thrilled that at least one of them had a nice ride.
His best friend since childhood came up from behind and they appeared together in the car’s tinted window, a matched set, height-wise, at six-foot each. Greg’s dark hair and light eyes contrasted with Jerome’s dark eyes and light brown hair.
After a brief glance over his shoulder to ensure no one was watching, Greg leaned in for a kiss, balancing a loaded duffle between them. “And you look so good in it,” he murmured. His mouth tasted of breath mints.
Jerome took the kiss and the bag, placing it in the trunk when Greg pulled away. “Is that everything?”
“I think so. Maybe we’d better check one more time.” A suggestive smile and winking green eye hinted at mischief.
Jerome took Greg’s hand and laced their fingers together, leading the way back up two flights of stairs to their apartment. The cramped, one bedroom shoebox was tiny, yet special—it was their first home together. “Okay, but if we’re late, I’m gonna let my sister know who to blame.”
Greg jumped away, eyes wide in feigned terror. “Dude! Anything but that!” They shared a laugh. Shelby was sweet if somewhat bossy, and liked to pick on her brother’s boyfriend. Greg humored her, pretending to fear the petite brunette.
“Okay. Let’s do a quick check and then get on the road.” Jerome disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Greg to inspect the living area. He returned a moment later, holding a piece of dark fabric. “I’m glad we checked. You forgot