Epilogue
Twelve seasons. Starting in summer—as they always seemed to—but now they were leaving another one behind and entering autumn. Three years of living together in this little house, surrounded by trees and land and hope. Ben had found the real estate listing. The photos didn’t look like much since the house was hidden away deep on the lot. As it turned out, that’s what made them fall in love with the place.
Ben and Tim still lived in Austin, but on the outskirts. They had land, enough that they rarely heard another car or saw any sign of civilization, apart from the occasional airplane overhead. When they were at home, the world existed only for them, just like it had once in a den at his parents’ house or in Ben’s teenage bedroom. Their little bubble world had come together again after all this time. Austin was still there when they needed it—the gallery, the theater, Allison, and Marcello. But when they were done, they returned home to solitude.
Of course they weren’t completely alone. At the very beginning they had been four. When Chinchilla had first met Samson, the dumb dog had chased right after the cat. Samson stood his ground, waiting patiently until Chinchilla was close enough. Then he swiped—claws extended—hitting Chinchilla directly on the nose. Tim was painfully reminded of the time Jace had decked him. Regardless, that had ended the dispute of who was in charge. Samson reigned supreme for the next two years, eventually becoming fast friends with the dog.
When Samson died, he did so quietly. Curled up at Ben’s feet one night, he simply slipped away. Ben had cried for days, Tim joining him a few times. In a way, Samson was the last piece of Jace lingering behind long enough to make sure Ben was okay. And now he was. Ben would never be alone again, never have to search for someone to love him because Tim did so with all of his being. But losing part of their family still hurt.
“He was always Jace’s cat,” Ben had said afterwards. “Now he will be again.”
They buried Samson in one corner of the yard, planting flowers over his grave. A year later the flowers were still there, pink, white, and yellow. Tim was watering them now, Chinchilla standing solemnly at his side. When he was finished, she raced off across the yard, looking for a new game.
Tim returned to the back of the house to put away the watering can. He passed Ben, who was stretched out in a lawn chair with his eyes closed as he soaked up the sun, a forgotten book on his lap. Tim’s heart pounded. Why was he so scared? After all this time, after years of being together, this should be the easiest thing in the world. He second-guessed himself as he slowly wound up the garden hose and then walked back to where Ben rested. A cloud blew over the sun, shadow chasing across his body.
“You awake?” Tim said so quietly that he thought Ben might not hear.
Ben turned his head, smiling at him with brown eyes like melted chocolate. They made Tim weak, even still. “Yeah. Nearly dozed off.”
“Okay.” Tim stood there awkwardly. Maybe this wasn’t the right place. The right time. But of course it was. Where else could this happen but in their own little world. “Uh, could you sit up for a second?”
Ben looked puzzled, but he sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the deck chair. “Are you okay?”
Tim chuckled madly. “Ask me that again in a second.” Then he reached into his pocket, took out the ring, and fell to one knee. The words he had planned were lost in his throat. He simply held up the ring and gave Ben a look of such hope that it was enough.
And then Ben cried, and Tim was sure he had made a terrible mistake, but as the sun came back out again, so did Ben’s smile. Looking just as embarrassed as Tim felt, Ben nodded and held out his hand.
“Oh!”
Jace’s ring was still on Ben’s finger, but this didn’t bother Tim. These days he felt a bond with the man who had been smart enough to love Ben from the very beginning. After all, Jace had been there for Ben at a time when Tim couldn’t, and for that he was eternally grateful. Tim never expected Ben to take off that ring, so instead he reached for Ben’s other hand.
“There’s a reason God gave you two ring fingers,” he said, sliding on the platinum band.
Ben stared at it in wonder for a moment before throwing his arms around Tim’s neck and kissing him. Ben’s tears gracing his cheek, Tim hoisted him to his feet and held him near. As the wind blew through the trees, the first leaves breaking loose to fly free, they swayed together to a song only they could hear, their love perfect now, as it would always be until the end of their summer-filled days.
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