Tell Me It's Real(132)

“So that’s what he meant by home,” Darren said, and for a moment, the world around me got a bit brighter before I pushed it away. Darren sighed. “Keep him there, will you? I’ll call you tomorrow, and we can figure out what to do then.”

“Sure,” I said before I hung up the phone and put it in my pocket. I opened the screen door. “Hey,” I said softly, as if anything louder would spook him and cause him to flee.

“Paul?” Vince said, sounding confused. “Where….” He shook his head. “Did you find me?” he asked in a gruff voice. “I was looking for you, but… how did you get here?”

“This is my house,” I said softly, my fingers aching to reach out and touch him. “You came over to my house.”

He nodded slowly. “I thought I might. I think I was trying to find you, but I got lost. I drove for a while, because I couldn’t remember how to get here.”

“Oh?”

“I’m tired, Paul.”

“It’s been a long day.”

He looked down at his hands and let out a shuddering breath. “Can I come inside and go to sleep? I know you’re mad at me, and I’m sorry, but I just want to go to sleep. I’m real tired. I would sleep on the couch, or in the other bedroom, but I can’t. I need to be right there with you, okay?” His face crumpled, his voice cracking. “I just need to get some sleep, and I sleep better when you’re there. Okay? Please say it’s okay, Paul. I need to sleep, and I need you to say it’s okay.”

“It’s okay,” I said, unable to hold back anymore. I reached out and took his hand in mine. He clutched at it with both of his hands, as if he’d float away if he didn’t grip me as tightly as he could. I pulled him through the doorway, shutting it behind us. He kept his eyes on our hands. Wheels twisted around his feet, but even he could see something was off, and he headbutted Vince’s ankle with a little growl. I shushed him quietly, and he followed us down the hall as I led Vince to my bedroom. I closed that door as well, as if to keep the outside world away.

Vince stood near my bed, like he was unsure about what to do next, like he’d forgotten the next steps. I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, laying my forehead against the back of his neck. He sagged into me with a low moan, and I gripped him tighter.

“She died, Paul,” he said thickly. “I was standing right there when she….”

“I know,” I said, because I didn’t think he wanted to hear an apology right then.

“I thought maybe she’d wake up again. That she’d bounce back and everything would be okay because that’s the way it should have been. I kept thinking that she’d open her eyes and she’d see me, she’d really see me, and everything would be okay and we’d laugh. We’d laugh like we did when I was a kid and she was just my mom. But you know what else I thought? You want to know what I thought the most?”

“What?”

“You,” he said, leaning his head back until it rested on my shoulder, my mouth near his ear, our cheeks brushing together. “You. I thought of you. I though how I wanted to be with you. I wished that you were there with me, and I wished you weren’t mad at me. I wished I’d told you everything from the beginning even though it was too much to put on a person, and I didn’t want you to have to deal with it. I didn’t want to bring it down on you because you were so bright. You were so clear and bright, and I didn’t want it to bring you down.” He shuddered again. “Darren said… he said you told him to tell me it’s real. Did you say that, Paul? Did you tell him that?”

“Yes,” I said, because it was the only answer that could be given. “It’s real.”

“Paul… I… I don’t….”

His tears soaked against my cheek as I kissed them away. I told him to hush, I told him that it was okay, that I wasn’t mad, not really. I couldn’t be mad at him, I said, because there was nothing to be angry about. He twisted in my arms until he could look me in the eye, trying to see if I was telling the truth. I made sure he knew I was, and the wildness there receded a bit, the cloudiness parted, and a little light showed through. It was not happiness, though it was close. It was not arousal, though I didn’t expect it to be. No. It was relief, pure and simple. Relief that I understood what he was saying. Relief that I wasn’t upset with him, and I couldn’t believe that I had been in the first place.

It was this relief that allowed me to pull his shirt up and over his head and fold it on top of my dresser. It was this relief that allowed me to unbutton his jeans and slide them off. I led him to the bed and followed him in, pulling the covers up to our shoulders. Our knees bumped together as we faced each other.