“HEY, I’VE GOT TO RUN in to work for a little bit,” Adam called from the bathroom. He had started working for the local veteran’s administration office as a housing liaison, searching for affordable housing for veterans. It was a stressful job for him, hearing all of their stories of hunger and homelessness. But it was also very rewarding. I always knew when he’d successfully helped one of his clients settle into their new home. The happiness would run off of him in waves.
I was in the bedroom unpacking another—in what seemed like a never-ending stack—moving box. We had only been in our new apartment two weeks, and with the schedules he and I maintained, unpacking was taking far longer than we had originally anticipated. “Are we still going to Ryan’s for dinner?”
“Yeah, seven o’clock.” Then I heard the shower turn on and I let my mind wander.
Renting our own apartment had been Adam’s idea. We had been living in Ryan’s condo since my father’s attack. He proposed the idea at Christmas. I was against it originally. I still had my studio apartment, even though I was rarely there. I still had issues of trust and stability that I was working through, and Adam, being the ever-understanding man that he was, had supported my need for a safe space. But, in our new home together, I was finding that wherever he was, was my safe space.
As long as he was by my side, I was home.
There was absolutely no doubt in my mind that he loved me. He never gave me any indication that what we had wasn’t forever, and I wanted to trust him with everything I had. My own history battled that desire to go all in. Oddly, it was a conversation with Greg that turned it all around for me, and now there we were, new renters.
My relationship with Greg had changed dramatically since the attack. A bond had developed after our shared confessions, and for the first time in my life, I felt as if I truly had a friend. He accepted my insecurities in the same way that Adam did, without ridicule or attempting to change me. Instead, he allowed his actions to speak in ways he knew I would understand. Where Adam was quickly becoming the foundation for the new life I was building for myself, Greg was becoming the support.
The apartment itself was only a two-bedroom affair, much smaller than the condo that Adam shared with his brother and nephew. I was sure he would feel cramped, given its size, but he continuously reassured me that was not the case. To me, the apartment was massive, but I guess that stood to reason given my previous living conditions.
I had also finally decided to change my therapist. Dealing with my anxiety had been an ongoing process for years, but I never felt as if I was making any real progress. After talking it over with Adam, the decision was made and I began searching. Dr. Keebler was someone Adam knew through the Veteran’s Administration, who specialized in PTSD related issues. We met once a week to discuss whatever issues I desired. Much in the same way I had with Greg, I found that talking to a virtual stranger, albeit one that was being paid, far more helpful than attempting to talk to someone I knew. I was typically physically and emotionally exhausted for hours after each session, simply from dredging up all of the garbage of my past. But I was also feeling better about my life overall, which in itself was a major feat.
I had a home.
I had friends.
I had Adam.
As far as I was concerned, I didn’t need anything else.
A knock at the door broke me from my musings. In the weeks since we moved in, the only visitors we had were Greg, Ryan, and Lucas. I knew Greg was at work, but we hadn’t heard from the other two yet, so I assumed it was them. I was pulling precious decorative glass from the box, the kind that I was afraid would break if someone so much as sneezed on it.
“Adam, can you get that?” I called.
“Still in my towel, babe. Be out in a sec.”
Sighing heavily, I carefully set the glass pieces on the dresser and strode to the front door.
The man standing on the other side of the door was someone I didn’t recognize. I panicked for a brief moment, a side effect of Roger’s break-in. I was still coping with strangers. I gave him a quick once-over; my height, brown hair, thin, non-descript, really. Just…plain. “Can I help you?”
“Are you David?”
“Who might you be?”
“Is David here? I really need to speak to him.”
There was something eerily familiar about him. I recognized the way he spoke, the inflections on certain syllables, and the way he said my name. I looked closer, trying to figure out where I might know him from. It was right there, tantalizingly close, like a memory clouded in fog.
I scanned his features closer, taking him in from head to toe. When I got to his eyes, my breath caught in my throat and my heart skipped a beat.
I hadn’t seen eyes like his in years, blue with hints of green.
He had the same color eyes as my mother.
Time seemed to freeze. The last time I saw those eyes, they belonged to a scared little boy. A man stood in front of me, and I found it hard to reconcile the two.
“Dylan?” I whispered, fearing I was wrong.
His eyes softened, recognition blooming, and when he smiled, his entire being opened up to me. “Davie?”
I hadn’t heard that name in so very long. It couldn’t be real. Dylan couldn’t be standing in front of me. It had to be someone’s idea of a sick, twisted joke.
But the more I looked at him, the more I recognized.
The scar on his chin from when I had been chasing him through the house and he tripped and fell, smashing his face into the coffee table.
The small, almost elfin ears, another gift from my mother.
And, of course, the eyes.
I felt a pair of hands gently slide over my shoulders from behind and cross over my chest. Adam pulled me backward into his chest and wrapped himself around me, cocooning me in his warmth. “David, meet Dylan.”
My eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill. My entire body vibrated within Adam’s embrace. I was finding it virtually impossible to speak, the shock of it still entirely too new. I tilted my head to Adam. “You knew?”
I felt him nod against me.
“How?”
Adam favored me with a sly grin. “I still have…contacts from the Marines. They helped.” He left it at that, and so did I.
“Davie, he’s the one that contacted me. I don’t know how he did it, but he found me.”
Adam leaned into me and kissed me on the cheek. “Aren’t you going to invite your brother in?”
My…brother.
Adam released me, and I found myself moving, without any thought, toward Dylan. I said his name, still not believing it was real. At any moment, he could disappear, or I would wake up realizing it was all a dream.
I reached for him, and he met me halfway. The tears did come that time. Choking sobs racked my body as I pulled my brother into our first embrace in fifteen years. I buried my face into his neck and cradled him by the back of his head. He clutched me around the waist, and we swayed back and forth, crying for all of the time and memories lost. I could feel Adam behind me, his hand on the small of my back, adding his support both physical and emotional.
Dylan pulled away, but only slightly, keeping his arms wrapped around me. His eyes were red rimmed and his cheeks tearstained, but his smile beamed through. I used my thumbs to wipe away the tears, and he smiled even brighter.
“I don’t understand how any of this is happening,” I said.
He grinned at me then nodded in Adam’s direction.
Adam leaned in and kissed the back of my head and whispered, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
I leaned into him. “All I got you was a card,” I quipped.
Adam stepped around Dylan and me. “I’m taking off and letting you two get reacquainted. Dylan, you’re still joining David and me at my brother’s tonight, right?”
Surprised wasn’t even the right word. “How long has this been planned?”
“Adam showed up at my door last week, and explained who he was. He wanted to give me time to get used to the idea that I might be back in your life, but I didn’t need it. I called him at his office later that day, and we arranged this.”
Adam leaned in and kissed my lips, lingering long enough to whisper, “I love you,” and then he was gone.
“Your boyfriend’s pretty amazing, you know that, right?”
Panic set in. He’d used the word “boyfriend.” He knew about me and Adam. He had seen Adam kiss me. Was I going to lose him just as quickly as I got him back?
As if he sensed the question, Dylan took me by the shoulders and pulled me into another embrace. “It’s okay. I’m not Dad.”
I clung to him. Part of me was still afraid that none of it was real. This wasn’t my life. Nothing good ever came to me. But then I remembered Adam, and everything he had given to me. He had helped me rebuild by life, one step at a time, giving me all of the support and love that he possibly could. He had given me everything.
Including my brother.
I finally let him go and wiped my eyes. Dylan sniffled.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
I raced into the bathroom, grabbed a box of tissues because I knew we were going to need them, and went back to the living room. Dylan sat on one end of the couch, and I took a seat on the other end, setting the tissue box on the coffee table.
We sat quietly for a moment, each probably trying to find something to say to each other. How do you reconnect with someone after fifteen years?
Finally, I said, “I’m sorry for what happened to Roger.”
Anger colored his features. “He’s back in prison where he belongs again. Prison’s honestly too good for him after what he put us through. But I’m glad he’s out of our lives for good. I’m just sorry that he came after you. He almost killed you.”
Unwanted memories of that night came back, and there were things that I needed to tell him. “He’s not my father.”
“I know. He may not be your father, but you’re still my brother.”
“Adam told you?”
“Yeah, he did. Don’t be mad at him.”
“Believe me, I’m not. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened in my life.”
“I can see that. After the hell you went through when we were kids, you deserve it. You deserve to be happy.”
There was so much sincerity in his voice that I believed him.
“Do you…resent me. For what I did to our family? Or to Roger?”
He was passionate when he responded. “Absolutely not. My father made his own choices and made you the scapegoat. You were the innocent one in this mess. You didn’t break up the family, he did.”
“I know that. Now. But it took me years to see that. Even now, I sometimes wonder if there had been anything I could have done differently to keep all of this from happening.”
“David, it was completely out of your control. You have control now. Don’t let yourself live in the past. You have a future. Take it.”
We sat and talked for what seemed like hours, reconnecting, reforming bonds that I thought had been severed years ago.
It was odd, really. After spending so much time alone, to suddenly have family, people in my life that actually cared about me, that loved me and wanted me in their life. I had spent so many years alone, hiding. Never allowing anyone to get close to me for fear that they would see who I was really was, the scarred little boy responsible for so much misery and pain, and decide that I wasn’t worth it. That feeling that you can easily be discarded never truly goes away, those lessons can’t be unlearned. But new lessons can be learned as long as you have teachers patient enough to show you.
Dylan was right. I had a future.
I had my brother back.
I had Adam by my side.
I wasn’t merely surviving, looking into my own life.
I was living.
The End