Gage leaned on the wall outside the door to Mal’s apartment and sent him a message.

I’m outside. Figured I wouldn’t knock, since Bo should be sleeping. Let me in?

A second later, the lock disengaged, and Mal opened the door. He poked his head out into the hallway, glanced down the wrong way, then looked in Gage’s direction and startled himself. His glasses slipped down his nose crookedly, and Mal rushed to push them back up. If Gage hadn’t been so devastated, he would have laughed.

“Hey,” Mal said. “You spooked me. Sorry. For some reason, I thought you’d be down that way.” He gestured in the way he’d originally looked. “I’m not sure why.”

“I think we’re all feeling a little weird tonight.” Gage kept his voice soft and low. He hoped that he could pass it off as an attempt not to make noise so Bo would stay asleep. In reality, he was fearful that if he spoke too loudly, Mal would hear the sorrow in his voice and ask about it. Gage wasn’t ready to have those wounds prodded. He knew that he’d done wrong, and he knew that it was up to him to fix it. “Is Bo in bed?”

“Mmhm. He fell asleep three, maybe four hours ago?” Mal checked over his shoulder, then stepped away from the door to let Gage in. The lights were out, and while Mal was fully dressed, Gage had a feeling that he’d woken him up. “I think all the running around today really wiped him out. I haven’t seen him this tired in a long time.”

“Mm.” Gage pushed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, attempting to overcome the distress stacking inside of him. Bo was sick, Aaron was gone, and he was left with his mistakes. “Thank you for looking after him, and thank you for letting me come pick him up so late at night. I know that I’m inconveniencing you.”

“No, not really.” Mal yawned. He headed down the short front hallway of his apartment to the living room. “I’m glad that I can help you. Besides, I’m going to have to be up at odd hours once I have my baby, anyway.”

It was odd to think that sweet, quiet Mal was getting ready to be a father. He’d been Gage’s babysitter when Gage was too young to be left on his own, and now, he babysat Bo. Gage had never understood why Mal had never found a partner and settled down when it was clear he loved caring for children, but Gage had never dared to ask. All he knew from eavesdropping on his parents and Mal was that there’d been an incident.

A vague, mildly ominous incident.

He had a feeling that whatever it was had held Mal back from achieving his dreams. Almost fifteen years later, Gage still didn’t know what had happened, but he was glad to see that Mal wasn’t letting it hold him back anymore. A baby would be good for him, even if he was much older than most first-time child bearers. Mal was mature, had his finances in order, and was capable of providing his child with a stable life.

Gage wished he could say the same.

Bo was asleep on the chaise lounger by the window, the same place he was every time Gage came by late to pick him up. Mal had a toddler bed set up in his spare bedroom, but Bo had never taken to it. He preferred to rest on an incline, his chest elevated by the angle of the seat. Mal had tucked him in beneath one of his favorite blankets.

The strained sounds of his breathing were audible from across the room.

“How long is it going to be before the test results are in?” Mal asked as Gage moved to Bo’s side.

“A week, I think. Something about sending it to the lab for testing, and… I don’t know. I don’t know how any of that works.” Carefully, Gage lifted the blanket from around Bo and scooped him up into his arms.

Bo stirred. He mumbled something and opened his eyes, then made a small sound of surprise when he saw Gage. “Daddy.”

“Hey, baby boy,” Gage said. He held Bo to his chest, balancing some of his weight on his hip. He was getting so big. “I’m sorry to wake you up.”

“Is it morning time?” Bo’s voice creaked and popped. He cleared his throat, but it didn’t seem to help. Frustrated, he buried his head against Gage’s shoulder. “Tired, Daddy.”

“It’s still night time,” Gage said. He rocked Bo slowly side to side and kissed the top of his head. “Something happened and I needed to come see you.”

“Why?” Bo mumbled against his shirt.

Gage smiled. “Because I love you, and I want you to know that you’re the most important person to me. I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure we’re okay.”

Mal, who stood a few paces away from Gage, looked at him in concern. “Gage?”

“Everything’s okay,” Gage promised in the same soft voice he’d used by the doorway. There were tears in his eyes that he longed to let tumble down his cheeks, but he held them back for Mal, for Bo, and for himself. All these years while waiting for Aaron to come home, he’d been focused on the wrong thing—his relationship to Aaron had to come second to his relationship with Bo. Not only did his heart demand it, but his conscience demanded it, too.

He would not cry. He’d been strong for Aaron for close to five years—he could be strong for Bo for the next several hours.

“Bo and I need to get going. We’re not going to keep you up any longer than we need to.” Gage smiled at Mal. “Thanks again.”

“No problem.” The hesitant, upward inflection of confusion shaded Mal’s reply. “If you need anything, call me again. Bo’s always such a pleasure to take care of. If I have the availability, you know I’ll always help you out.”

“You’re the best.” Gage meant it. “Have a good night, okay?”

“Sure thing. You, too.”

Mal showed Gage to the door, and it wasn’t long before Gage was back on the street. He unlocked the back door of his car and settled Bo inside.

“You wanna take a road trip, sleepy boy?” Gage asked. He strapped Bo into his car seat, checking to make sure the connections were secure. Bo looked at him with tired eyes, his face haggard in ways no young child’s should be. It was all Gage needed to convince him that what he was doing was right. “Let’s go on an adventure.”

They weren’t going back to the house tonight. They couldn’t. There were some people who deserved to meet Bo for the very first time, and Gage didn’t think they’d mind the late-night interruption.