Page 117 of Inseparable
I shake his hand and then Ange does. “We are, but I’m afraid he didn’t mention you,” I tell him, somewhat apologetically.
His sad smile is knowing. “That doesn’t surprise me in the least.” He looks between us. “I have an hour to spare. Could we go somewhere warm to talk?”
I look to Ange, and her eyes reveal her agreement. “Sure. I know a coffee place off Plymouth Road. Just follow us.”
Ten minutes later, we’re tucked into a quiet corner of the coffee shop. Ange and I are sipping coffees, while Tom drinks a green tea. He leans his elbows on the table. “Ayden talked about you both all the time. I know how close you all were.”
“He was our best friend,” Ange supplies. “And his death devastated us.”
Tom nods. “Me too. I’d often thought of looking you guys up, but Ayden couldn’t admit he was homosexual, so I doubted he had told you.” His eyes are earnest as his gaze bounces between us. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard the tail end of what you said back in the cemetery, so, you’re aware that he was gay?”
“We only just found out. He never told us,” I admit.
“What was the nature of your relationship with Ayden?” Ange asks getting straight to the point.
“He was the first man I loved.”
“Did he love you back?” Ange asks, and she’s not pulling any punches tonight.
“I believe so, although he never said the words. Ayden was still in denial when I met him. He only joined the marines because he thought it would reinforce his masculinity, but he didn’t seem to understand they’re not mutually exclusive. He was so confused. I tried to help, but I only made things worse.”
“How?” I jump in.
He kneads his taut jaw, the overhead light glinting off the silver wedding band on his finger. “I’ve always been comfortable in my skin, and I’ve never doubted who I am. I came out when I was thirteen, and while it wasn’t all plain sailing, it wasn’t overly difficult either. My family was very supportive, and most of my friends stood by me. I tried to relate to Ayden’s situation, but I didn’t fully understand. I was young and in love and a bit naïve back then, because I can see now how it wasn’t black or white for Ayden. I didn’t quite grasp that at the time, and I thought he needed a little push to help him along.”
A pained expression flits over his face. “I broke our relationship off just before he came home on leave. I loved him, I really loved him, but I couldn’t be with someone who was hiding their true self. I knew he had feelings for me, and I thought it’d be enough. I thought he’d come back ready to face who he was. I thought our love would be enough to convince him it was worth revealing who he was.” Tears cloud his eyes. “I never thought he’d kill himself, and I almost gave up on life myself when I heard the news. I spent the first couple years drowning in guilt, convinced I drove him to suicide.”
Ange reaches across the table, taking his hand. “I did the same, because he returned home and discovered me in bed with Devin, and I thought I broke his heart.”
Tom shakes his head, holding onto her hand. “He knew you two were in love, but he was jealous.” He looks me directly in the eye. “He never told me outright, but I knew he was in love with you too.”
I can only nod over the painful swelling in my throat.
“He wouldn’t have wanted any of us to suffer in the aftermath of his death. I may not have known him as long as you did, but I knew enough to see the man he was. The man he was becoming. He would not have wanted that.”
“He wouldn’t,” Ange whispers. “And that’s why I know what he did that day was something he couldn’t control, because, if he’d been of sound mind, he would’ve realized that, and I don’t think he would’ve gone through with it, even if he had been thinking of it before. He was just in so much pain, he couldn’t see another way out. And I hate that he felt he had no choice, and I miss him every single day, but blaming ourselves won’t bring him back.”
“No, it won’t, and it took me some time to come to the same conclusion. But I’m in a good place in my life. I recently got married to a great man, and we have a good life. Every year, I come back here to visit Ayden and to let him know I’ve never forgotten him. He left an indelible mark on my heart, and I only wish I’d had the chance to get to know him better.”
“I’m glad he met you,” Ange says. “I’m glad he got to experience love. To know he wasn’t alone in Afghanistan comforts me.”
“Thank you for telling us,” I say. “We’ll never know exactly why he did it, when he did it, but this helps bring some closure.”
And as I make love to my fiancée later that night, my heart is freer, my conscience is clear, and the future is looking brighter.
EPILOGUE
Angelina - 5 Years Later
“Ayden,” Mom hollers, “get down from that tree!” My stepdad joins my husband and me in laughing as we watch her race across the backyard to drag our precocious three-year-old down from the tree.
“I keep telling her it’s pointless,” I say, pushing myself up off the chair, groaning as the familiar ache spreads across my lower back. “He’s got mine and Devin’s genes—he’s a born mischief-maker.”
“This one better be quieter,” Devin says, sliding his arms around me from behind, and caressing my protruding belly. “Or she’ll blow a gasket.”
“Shewill not blow a gasket,” Mom says, stepping back up onto the deck. Ayden is clinging to her back like a little spider monkey. She swats my husband across the back of his head. “I’ve had plenty of practice with hell-raisers. And you two turned out all right,” she teases.
“That we did.” Devin lifts Ayden off Mom’s shoulders, holding him up horizontally and flying him through the air.
