Page 115 of Inseparable
Devin pulls a worried face. “I don’t know, but I guess there’s only one way to find out.” He grabs his cell, punching the number in.
“It’s Saturday. They’re probably closed for the weekend.”
“I’ll leave a message.”
I listen as he proceeds to do that. “Oh, hello,” he says, a few seconds later. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to pick up on a Saturday.” He nods while whoever it is talks on the other end of the line. His shoulder muscles are corded with tension, and his foot taps restlessly off the floor as he listens. “There was a mix-up, and the letters were sent to the wrong house. We’ve only just received them. Yes, Angelina Ward is here with me.” He glances at me, and I arch a brow. He links his fingers in mine. “Yes, we could be there in an hour. Okay. We’ll see you then. Thank you.”
He hangs up, leaning forward on his knees, expelling air from his mouth in a loud rush.
“Someone is there?”
He nods. “That was Mr. Fuller, the attorney who sent us the letters. He has a couple of appointments this morning, but he can squeeze us in. Ayden instructed him to send those to us on the fifth anniversary of his death.” He pins me with a grave look. “He has something for us. Something from Ayden.”
I smooth a hand over the sudden ache in my chest. “What do you think it is?”
He presses a kiss to my temple. “I’ve no idea, but maybe it will give us the answers we’ve been looking for.” Taking my hand, he hauls me to my feet and we go upstairs to get dressed.
I’m pacing the carpet in the small waiting room of the attorney’s office. My stomach is in knots, has been the entire ride here. Devin stands up, moving behind me. His hands go to my shoulders, and he digs his fingers in as he starts massaging my tense muscles. “Try to relax, baby. Whatever this is, we’re in it together.” I nod, wanting to reassure him. He kisses my cheek. “Always remember.” Circling his arms around my waist, he pulls me in to the comfort and safety of his body. He’s right. I can deal with this. Nothing I’m about to hear is going to change who we are or how far we’ve come.
The door swings open, and a small wiry man with a mop of thick gray hair steps out. He nods curtly, offering us a brief smile. “Mr. Morgan and Ms. Ward, I presume?”
Devin takes my hand, nodding in acknowledgment. I slant a brittle smile his way. “I’m Michael Fuller. Thank you for coming in on a Saturday. If you’ll follow me.” He gestures us inside.
“I can’t wait until you share my surname,” Dev whispers in my ear, leading me in to the attorney’s office. Although we haven’t discussed the specifics of our forthcoming nuptials, there’s no way I’m not taking my husband’s name. I can’t wait to be Mrs. Devin Morgan. Thinking it reminds me of all the times I doodled that name on the back of my school journal, bringing a smile to my face. It’s the perfect thing to say, helping to distract me and slay the edge off my nerves.
I grin at my husband-to-be and he winks. The attorney guides us to a circular table at the side of the room. We take seats alongside each other, and Devin automatically links our hands. Mr. Fuller remains standing, powering up a laptop that rests in the center of the table. He clears his throat. “Mr. Carter engaged my services shortly before his death. I thought it was strange for a young man of his age to be so concerned with his last will and testament, but I didn’t question it.” His expression highlights his regret. “He gave me a few sealed items for safekeeping. A few days after his death, I received a letter in the mail with various instructions. It seems he was well prepared.”
Devin and I share shocked expressions. I’ve always thought Ayden’s suicide was a spur of the moment thing, but this hints at premeditation, and that makes me unbelievably sad.
The attorney flicks a button on the laptop, and a video recording displays on the screen. I grip Devin’s hand tight. Ayden’s face is framed on the paused screen, and tears automatically well in my eyes.
“He wanted you both to watch this together,” he confirms.
I gnaw on the inside of my mouth, leaning into Dev, as the attorney presses the play button and quietly leaves the room. Tears stream down my face as I look at my friend. He’s exactly as I remember him with the exception of the resigned look on his face.
“Hey, guys.” Ayden leans forward, adjusting the webcam, before sitting back on the edge of his bed. The curtains are open, and it’s dark outside. “If you’re watching this, it means I did it. I finally summoned the courage to go through with it. I imagine you have lots of questions, and it didn’t feel right bowing out of this world without letting my two best friends know why I did what I did. I’ve deliberately instructed my attorney to wait five years before showing this to you, because I want to ensure you’re both in a good place when I tell you what I need to tell you. I’m hoping by now, you’ve come to terms with my death, and this will bring you that final closure.”
He says this so bluntly, without any show of emotion, as if he’s discussing whether to have raspberry or strawberry jelly on his toast.
“To put this in context,” he continues. “It’s the night before we’re due to leave for UI, and I’m about to break the news to you, Lina. I’m a chicken shit, because I should’ve told you how I was feeling, but I couldn’t bear to watch your heart break again. We’ve both done it to you now, and you deserve better.”
I close my eyes momentarily. Devin brushes his lips across my cheek, renewing me with courage. I open my damp eyes again.
On the screen, Ayden exhales deeply. “You need to forgive Devin,” he says. “Because he loves you the way a guy should love a girl. I’ve gotten in the way of that, and, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” He leans forward, and I see the anguish in his eyes. “I love you, Lina, I always have, and I always will, but I can’t love you the way you deserve to be loved. If I was going to love any girl, it’d be you. There is no girl sweeter, kinder, more generous, or more beautiful than you. I wanted to love you properly. I wanted that so badly, and I tried, but I can’t force myself to feel things I don’t.”
He looks away, and Devin and I lock gazes. I’m hearing what I didn’t hear back then. When Ayden starts speaking again, we return our attention to the screen. “I’m gay,” he admits in a low voice. “But I don’t want to be.” Tears glisten in his eyes. “I want to be normal. And I tried. I tried with you, Lina, but it wasn’t enough, and that’s not on you. That’s all on me.” He buries his face in his hands, and his shoulders heave as he cries. I place a hand over my mouth, and my heart is beating furiously in my chest. Never in a million years did I suspect this.
Ayden lifts his head, focusing on the camera again. “I’m sorry. I told myself I wouldn’t do this. I wanted to tell you for so long, but I couldn’t. Because admitting it out loud would be like accepting it, and I don’t want to accept it. I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want to have these feelings, and my whole life feels like one giant lie. The football dream was always my dad’s dream. It hasn’t been mine for years, but I’ve been too afraid to tell him.”
He laughs, and it’s bitter sounding. “I told him tonight, and he went apeshit on me. I told him I’ve joined the marines, and he’s threatened to disown me. Very soon, I’ll have no one left.” He hangs his head, and I want to reach into the past, hug my friend, and tell him it’s fine to be himself. That we love him no matter what. That his sexuality makes no difference to our friendship.
Devin is struggling to maintain composure beside me. I stroke his back, fighting the swell of emotion in my chest.
Ayden looks back up at the camera. “I’ve deliberately interfered in your relationship with Devin, Lina, and I’m truly sorry for that. He’s right. I wanted to drive a wedge between you, because if you two are together, then our bond is broken, and I’ll be left on the outside. I couldn’t deal with that.” He gulps, and it looks painful. “But it’s more than that.” He wets his lips, clasping and unclasping his hands in his lap. “Because I love him too.”
Devin goes rigidly still.
“I love you, Devin, in the way a guy shouldn’t love another guy.” His voice cracks, and he breaks down sobbing. After a minute, he swipes angrily at his tears, speaking up again. “I was fifteen when I first began to understand I had certain inappropriate feelings for you. We were out at the lake. It was our first summer there without Grandpa Joe. We were drying off on the dock when Lina started crying.”
