Bo was awake.

It didn’t truly register in Jory’s befuddled mind until he stood on his porch, watching Thiessen drive away. When the hunter green Jeep rumbled down the old country road in a cloud of dust, a strange emptiness spread through the center of Jory’s chest, hollowing it out.

Bo was awake—and Thiessen was going back to Oklahoma to reconnect with the man he thought he’d lost. It stung. It burned like a hornet’s sting, fiery hot and throbbing. What chance did Jory have against a love like that? Thiessen had said once that he thought Bo was his soulmate—and Jory understood. That’s how it’d felt with Seth and if the roles were reversed and Jory had a second chance, god knows he’d take it.

He couldn’t blame Thiessen for wanting to go back to the boy who’d captured his heart so long ago. He couldn’t blame Thiessen for needing to see Bo again after four long years of mourning. Didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Jory pressed his hand over his chest, as if he could somehow stop his heart from aching.

A tiny, utterly selfish part of him wanted to keep Thiessen for himself, to convince him to stay. No. His mother had a saying: “If you love something, let it go.” He had to let Thiessen go. He had to drop the leash and let the man’s heart go free, no matter how much it sucked. Because it totally sucked.

Suddenly, the urge to hear his mom’s voice overpowered everything. With a ragged sigh, he went back inside and grabbed his cell off the table, then dialed the number he knew by heart. A number he didn’t call half as much as he should.

It rang only once before she picked up with a cheery hello. “Jory, it’s so good to hear your voice.” She sounded as upbeat as usual and Jory knew she was smiling, simply from the tone she used.

“Sorry I haven’t visited,” he murmured.

“You’ve been busy, huh? I know springtime is crazy, honey, so there’s no need to apologize. I know you’re married to your job. You’re like your father in that way.” She chuckled. “Nose to the grindstone.”

“Yeah.”

“You sound down in the dumps. Everything okay?”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Actually… I need some advice, I think. How lame is that? Thirty years old and coming to Mom for relationship counseling. You always know what to say and I need your words of wisdom, now more than anything. You up for grabbing a late lunch?”

“Of course, Jor. Today?”

“If you can.”

She laughed breezily. “Aw, you know I’ll always make time for you, honey. Just tell me where and when and I’ll see you soon.”

They arranged to meet at the Sundance Diner at three, which gave Jory plenty of time to decompress and take a hot shower. He tried not to think about the way Thiessen had hugged him goodbye, like it might be the last time. Damn it.

His mom was already seated in a booth for two when he strolled through the plate-glass doors. A merry chime of bells announced his arrival. Mags Mitchell—owner and manager of the place—winked and gave him a little wave from behind the front counter. “Trust you can seat yourself,” she teased.

“Thanks, Mags. Hey Mom.” He folded himself up in the booth, his knees banging the table as he situated himself, and damn if she wasn’t a sight for sore eyes. “I like what you’ve done with your hair. The layered look really suits you,” he said, gesturing to the medium-length cut she was now sporting.

“Aw, thank you. Ever the flatterer.” She smiled, then reached across the table to pat his hand. “You, on the other hand, are in desperate need of a haircut! Look at how shaggy this is. Didn’t your momma raise you better than that?”

“Har har. I’ve been a little…preoccupied.”

Her green eyes lit up. “With?”

“A guy. I’ve been seeing him for a few months, but it’s gotten a bit complicated.”

“Hmm, I see. You should get it off your chest. Tell me everything.” And that was what he loved about his mom. She didn’t even blink at the fact that he’d just admitted he was dating another man; she let it roll right off her shoulders with a knowing smile.

Jory exhaled slowly. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Usually, stories start at the beginning,” she said. “Why not start there and work your way through till now? Hmm?”

Start from the beginning. It sounded so simple. The waitress came by to take their orders, but Jory only wanted a cup of coffee. Black with a spoonful of sugar. His stomach didn’t feel too good, flip-flopping all over the place. Where was the beginning, though? The day he picked a wet and muddy Thiessen off the side of the road? The day Peri set him up on a blind date?

No…

“I’m a widower.” The words spilled free before he could stop them, but that was his beginning. Seth was his beginning. Seth was where it all started. Her eyes widened, ever so slightly, and he shook his head with a soft laugh.

“I met a guy in college—yes, at a party, no I wasn’t drunk. We went out for coffee and really hit it off. His name was Seth and we fit together so well, almost too well. Like we were two interconnecting puzzle pieces. Sometimes, I didn’t know where I ended and where he began, if you want to be cliche. We started dating over the summer and it felt different than anyone else I’d ever seen. It felt like he could be the one.”

“He moved in with me, off-campus, about three months into our relationship. It was a little fast, but we talked about the future a lot and it felt right. I fell hard for him, Mom. We started planning what we’d do after we graduated. He decided he’d move to Sundog Park with me and together, we’d start a practice of our own. Everything was perfect.”

“He got sick about a year and a half into our relationship. He avoided seeing the doctor. So damn stubborn. I kept harassing him about it, but he shrugged it off as no big deal, but it was. One night, it got bad enough that I took him to the ER. They ran some tests and referred him to an oncologist, and we were given the bad news. He was dying. Stage four pancreatic cancer.” Jory massaged his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “They said he’d likely been sick for a long time, there was just never any physical symptoms.”

“We both knew he was gonna die. He was strangely okay with it, made his peace with it. I was the one who was a wreck, but I knew I needed to be strong for him. For us. Seth had been dreaming up this huge wedding and planning how many kids we were gonna adopt down the road. It was one of his dreams, to be someone’s husband, and I… I loved him, Mom. I loved him so much that I went out and bought a ring, and I proposed in front of all our friends. He said yes and I vowed to make his last months the best they could be.”

A tear slid down his cheek. “I was there through all of it, through the chemo treatments and hospice nurses. His final few days were in a coma, but I was there, holding his hand the whole time. I held it until he took his last breaths and that’s when I lost it. Completely broke down, ended up flunking a couple of classes and got put on antidepressants. I wanted to quit. I wanted to give up and come home, but I knew Seth would want me to finish. He’d want me to move on, but I didn’t. Not for a long time. Not till I met Thiessen.”

Jory’s laugh was choked. “Thiessen…is an enigma. He’s a nervous wreck and he’s so damn skittish. He offsets his feelings with snark to protect himself, but once you get past his spiky outer shell? He’s a good person. He’s surprisingly fun and easy to talk to—as easy as Seth had been. I wasn’t sure I’d ever find that connection again, but that’s what it is. It’s a connection. It felt almost like Seth was nudging us together. Like he was saying, “Jory, this is the one.”

“But?” His mother looked at him knowingly. “There’s a big “but” on the end of that sentence, honey.”

“Yeah. About that. Thiessen’s had his own share of pain. I guess his hometown was super homophobic. He and his boyfriend came out, only to be attacked by a group of thugs. Thiessen was crippled. Bo suffered major head trauma and fell into a coma. His family kept him on life support, but he didn’t recover. That was four years ago. Thiessen was finally moving past it, moving on with his life. He got a call today from Bo’s family. Bo’s awake, somehow, and Thiessen’s going back.”

“And you think you’ve lost him?” she finished for him.

“I don’t know. We had a fight a few days ago. It was stupid and probably entirely my fault, but I was giving him space and then this happens. How do I even… I can’t compare with his first love, Mom. I hugged him goodbye and it felt so final. Like maybe he wasn’t coming back.” Jory swallowed the lump sitting in his throat. “I don’t know. I love him. It’s not the same love that I felt with Seth, but I think Seth was one of those once-in-a-lifetime things. But I do love him.”

His mother steepled her fingers and tapped her thumbs together. “That’s a pickle, huh?”

“Tell me about it.” He groaned. “Any sage advice, oh wise one?”

“You already know the answer, honey. It’s like I’ve always told you—if you love someone, you have to let them go. If they come back to you, then it was meant to be. I know it’s hard. I know it hurts, lord knows, but the only thing you can do is set him free.”

“I did.”

“That doesn’t mean you give up hope, Jory. Never give up hope, not even when it seems bleak. Yeah, so maybe Bo is Thiessen’s first love and yeah, it’s hard to compete with that, but it’s not a competition. Reality is, he’s been out of Thiessen’s life for years. You said it yourself, Thiessen was moving on. With you. Which tells me there’s more to it than meets the eye.”

“Yeah, maybe.” It sounded good, anyway.

His mom only smiled. “Remember, it’s always darkest before the dawn. Don’t give up on him.”

“Thee? You okay in there?” Peri’s voice was muffled by the thick wooden door that separated Thiessen from the rest of the hotel room. He gripped the edges of the sink and focused on breathing—in and out, in and out—while he waited for the Xanax he just popped to kick in. The cool porcelain beneath his sweaty palms did little to calm his racing heart.

“I’m fine. Just… Give me a few,” he called.

His reflection stared back at him with haunted, hollowed eyes. Dark thumbprints hung in bags beneath them and his bottom lip was split and raw from gnawing on it. Not to mention his fingernails were practically bloody stubs. He was a hot mess. On the outside, he was barely keeping his shit together. On the inside?

It was chaos.

More than anything, he wanted to text Jory, to beg him to keep his mind occupied, because Jory was an old pro at distractions. What he wouldn’t have given for an out-of-tune voice clip of Jory singing Beyonce right then.

But Jory wasn’t here. Peri was, and she was worried about him. Thiessen drew a shaky breath and pinched his eyes closed, willing the spike of panic to go somewhere else for a few hours. Then he gathered what was left of his resolve and unlocked the bathroom door.

“You okay?” Peri sat perched on the end of the full-sized bed, her legs swinging off the side of the mattress. Dressed in all black, with only a shimmery crimson decal on her babydoll t-shirt, she looked like she was headed to a funeral…or a My Chemical Romance concert. One or the other.

“Yeah. As okay as I’m gonna get,” he admitted. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Don’t sound so excited.”

“I’m terrified, Peri. Pardon my lack of enthusiasm.”

“Aw, Thee. I’m sorry. This is supposed to be a happy day. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

It was what he wanted—three months ago, before Jory came striding into his life, radiating eternal sunshine and happiness. Three months ago, he would’ve been crying with relief that Bo was awake and aware. Right now, he only felt the familiar pressure of dread. It felt wrong, being back here in this dingy town. He was an intruder, an imposter, a fake.

He didn’t belong here anymore.

Maybe he never did.

His hands shook so violently that he stuffed them beneath his armpits, earning him a fretful look from his best friend. “I’m fine,” he insisted, plastering on the cheeriest smile he could muster. “Let’s go.”

The medical facility that Bo was admitted to seemed more like a nursing home than a hospital. It boasted drab red carpets scuffed in places and an equally drab cream paint-job. The pictures that hung on the walls were generic at best, photographs of autumn trees and macros of leaves and bugs. Plus the whole place stunk of sauerkraut. He wrinkled his nose and nudged up beside Peri, who squeezed his hand.

“Thiessen Ward!” Jeff Gentry’s loud voice was like an explosion in this quiet place and Thiessen nearly jumped out of his skin. Then again, Bo’s father had never been a quiet man. Six-foot-four and portly, he was a cheery sort of guy who supported his kids in all of their endeavors. He looked almost exactly the same as he did four years ago. Maybe a little more gray, a little more haggard. Nearly losing your kid would do that to you.

“Mr. Gentry—” Thiessen began, but he was clamped in a crushing hug. “My ribs...”

“You look well,” the man said, scratching his mustache when he stepped back. He turned his smile on Peri, who got the same enthusiastic greeting. “Peri, Peri, what have you done to your hair?” He waved at the bright blue dye that graced the very ends of her dark locks, then chortled. “Never mind that. We told Bo you were coming. Lord, I missed seeing him smile.”

“How is he?” Peri asked.

“I’m not gonna lie, he’s got a long way to go. Months, maybe years of physical therapy, speech therapy, all of that. He’s withered away these past few years, lying in that bed. Everyone kept telling us that we were wasting our breath, that it was inhumane to keep him alive, but Della and I knew he’d come home to us. We knew it in our hearts. It wasn’t his time.” He blinked quickly, his cheeks growing ruddy. “It’ll take time and patience, but the doctors expect him to make a full recovery. It truly is a miracle.”

Thiessen could barely hear him past the heavy thud-whoosh of his heartbeat. Peri seemed to realize he was on the verge of freaking out, too, because she grabbed his hand and held on tight. Grounding him best she could. Where were his stress drops? He needed like, a thousand of them, stat.

“You all right there, Thiessen?” Mr. Gentry asked.

“He’s fine,” Peri replied smoothly. “Just a little nervous, is all. We both are.”

“Bo’s resting right now, but I’m sure he’ll be delighted to see you.” He knocked softly on the door with Bo’s name written on a plastic placard, then smiled encouragingly at them before pushing it open. “Go on in.”

Peri glanced at Thiessen, who gulped down his nerves and nodded. Might as well get this over with. Like ripping off a band-aid, right? She led him into the small blue room. The lights were off, but the curtains were open and bright sunlight flooded in through the windows. A hospital bed sat in the center of the room, its plastic side guards raised, and in the middle of a sea of white bedsheets was Bo Gentry.

Thiessen’s knee locked up and he came to a screeching halt at the end of the bed. Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe. The man that lay motionless among the wires and tubes was slender and frail, with bones jutting out beneath his nearly translucent skin. The dark curls Thiessen always loved to run his fingers through billowed around his head in a messy halo.

It was Bo, but it wasn’t his Bo. The man sleeping in this bed was a stranger to him. An echo of the past that bubbled like wet paint, leaving a garish red streak across his heart. His breath came out shorter and faster by the minute and he could feel himself losing his grip on reality. Fuck. He shouldn’t be here. He didn’t belong here. This wasn’t his place anymore.

“Thee?” Peri whispered, breaking him out of his downward spiral, if only for a moment. She tugged gently on his arm. Thiessen let himself be led over to the chairs that sat next to the bed, collapsing into the one farthest away from Bo. God, he was a fucking coward. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” His voice was strangled, too tight. He rubbed at his face, then dug around in his pocket for the small glass bottle of lavender and peppermint oil. The minty taste on his tongue reminded him of home…and of Jory. “I don’t think I can do this,” he whispered, gripping his knees until his knuckles bled white.

“We don’t have to stay long, I promise.”

Thiessen closed his eyes, but they popped back open again at the sound of rustling sheets. Bo’s fingertips twitched, followed by his nose, and then his eyes slowly opened to blink blearily at them. Thiessen’s breath hitched, because when Bo looked at him, he didn’t feel anything. Not happiness. Not relief. Just a tingling numbness that spread like a blight through his soul.

“Thee…” Bo slurred his name, like his tongue wasn’t quite under his control. His mouth curved into a small smile. “Smell good.”

Thiessen surprised himself by exhaling a chuckle. “Good to know.”

Bo’s hand slid closer to him on the mattress, his palm up and his fingers outstretched, but Thiessen didn’t take it. He shook his head slowly and reached up to wipe away the tears gathering on his lashes. Keep it together. Don’t spazz out. Save it for back at the hotel.

“Okay?” Bo rasped.

Was he okay? No. He wasn’t, not by a long shot. It felt like his lungs were caving in. “I-I’m sorry. I can’t...” Choking on his tears, he fled the room as quickly as his legs would take him. He bolted past a surprised looking Della Gentry, mumbling an apology as he made a beeline for the front doors. They whizzed open and he escaped into the muggy southern afternoon.

By the time he reached the car, he was doused in a cold sweat and felt like he might puke. He grabbed at the passenger door handle, but Peri had locked the car. “Damn it!” He collapsed against the hood of the Jeep, blisteringly hot from the sun, but fuck it. Anywhere was better than in there.

“Thiessen!” Peri came running across the lot, her flats slapping over the pavement. She hit a button on the keyfob and the lights flashed with a beep. “I’m sorry—”

“Can we just— Can we go? Please?” Without waiting for an answer, he yanked the door open and clambered into the passenger seat. “I need to get away from here. I can’t do this. I can’t. Goddamnit!” He fisted over his jeans, slamming his hand down hard enough that it hurt, but the pain was a welcome reprieve from the ache in his soul.

“Of course, Thee. Breathe.” She stuck the key in the ignition and the car rumbled to life, the AC blasting hot air from its vents. “Just breathe.”

“I’m breathing. It hurts,” he snapped back.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

The minute they reached their hotel room, Thiessen holed himself up in the bathroom. The lock clicked and he collapsed against the door, slowly sliding down until he was sitting on the cold tile floor. Helpless. Tears burst free in a sob, try as he might to hold it in. He clamped a hand over his mouth to muffle his cries.

The pain felt never-ending. It scored through him like a fiery brand. It blistered his skin down to muscle and bone. Why didn’t he feel anything? He should’ve been happy. He should’ve been overjoyed that the boy he’d loved was back, and in a way, he was.

He was happy for Della and Jeff, happy that their prayers had been answered and they got their son back. He was happy that Bo got a second chance at life.

But he wasn’t part of that equation anymore, and he didn’t want to be. He’d moved on with his life while Bo wasted away in a hospital bed. Four years of nightmares and mourning, antidepressants and a heavy dose of survivor’s guilt. He’d picked up the pieces and kept marching on—right into the arms of another man—and he didn’t regret it.

Suddenly, the only thing he wanted was to hear Jory’s calm voice. Snatching up his phone, he tapped the icon and waited for it to ring. Once. Twice. Three times. Would he let it go to voicemail? Had Thiessen utterly fucked things up?

Jory sounded surprised when he answered. “Hello? Thiessen?”

“Hey,” he managed to squeak out.

“Hey—are you okay?”

“No.”

And like the breaking of a dam, everything came pouring out.