Yet some of the most important moments in your life crept up on you, no less revelatory or significant for their lack of advance notice and fanfare.
This was one of the most significant moments in Qhuinn’s life: And he’d waited, maybe for hours, just so Blay could come home and share it with him.
Blay meant to hold the words in, as he still wasn’t sure where they stood. But the emotion in the center of his chest chose its method of expression—and it was a conventional one. Tried and true.
“I love you so much,” Blay said in a voice that cracked.
Qhuinn lifted his hand up, the hand that had been on the letter his brother had written. And as he brushed at the side of Blay’s face, it was tenderly.
“Don’t cry,” Qhuinn whispered.
“Am I?”
Qhuinn nodded. “I’m going to try to get through this. I don’t know what I’m doing, though, and I don’t know how long it’s going to take.”
Blay put his hand over Qhuinn’s, and then he kissed that palm. “However long you need, I will wait. Whatever you want from me, I will do. Wherever you go, I will be right there with you. If you still want me like that.”
Those beautiful blue and green eyes closed. “I love you so much right now, too.”
Instantly, all of the tension disappeared, not just in Blay’s own body, but in the air between them. What had been stuck was now unjammed, and the release was so great, Blay trembled.
The kiss they shared was soft. Reverent. More of a vow than anything else.
And then they eased apart, and both stared down at the letter.
Dear God, Blay thought. He hoped that what was in there . . . didn’t drive them apart all over again.
Qhuinn’s hands started to shake as he eased a finger under the envelope’s flap. There was a lot of resistance, and somehow he wasn’t surprised that his brother had taken care to make sure it was properly sealed. Luchas was precise like that.
Had been precise like that.
Opening the envelope slowly, Qhuinn pulled out . . . a single sheet of eight-and-a-half-by-eleven copier paper. The page had been folded in thirds, and there was only writing on one side—and at first, his eyes just focused on the handwriting. The pen was the same Bic that had been used for Brother Mine, the same one that was on the bedside table, and the cursive script was beautiful, flowing, yet easy to read, each letter executed perfectly.
“He had such wonderful penmanship,” Qhuinn murmured as he ran his thumb down one of the margins. “And look at how straight the lines are. I don’t think he used a ruler. I think he just . . .”
Did it the right way, as he’d been trained.
Before Qhuinn started reading, he had a thought that his brother was so much better than multi-purpose office paper. Luchas should have had personalized stationery, embossed with his name and address at the top. Maybe with a pen-and-ink drawing of the family house as a header.
As Qhuinn trained his eyes on the salutation, he considered reading the letter out loud—but his throat was too tight for that. So instead, he leaned forward and moved the sheet of paper so that it was in between him and Blay.
Dearest Brother Mine,
Firstly, allow me to apologize. You have always been far braver than I, and I believe that what is about to happen proves this truism once again. I am sorry that I am not strong enough to continue upon this path from which I cannot escape, but I am tired. I am bone weary of the pain and the restlessness, and of late, the unchanging nature of my body’s compromises. All has worn me down, whereas you would have persevered. I am weak, however—and the biggest regret of this weakness is that in my actions you may search for, and feel that you find, some sort of personal culpability. Allow me to assuage your conscience. This is naught to do with you.
Secondly, I beg of you a favor. I realize that this is an imposition. For certain, if you are reading this, I am gone and you are in pain. It is entirely unfair of me to ask anything of you in your current state, and yet I beg of you this. Please go unto our family home, and into the confines of my former bedroom. There is a loose floorboard where my bureau was. Hidden beneath it is a secret