Tenebrosity

Chapter Seven: “The Day I Lost Me Too”

Part 2

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In the world in which we live in I've been forced into denial.
With every anniversary that marks another year
Are thoughts that come from others that my pain should disappear.

Sunday, November 6, 2016

“Did Gus go somewhere with one of his friends?” I ask while entering the living room.

Justin makes a ‘huh noise and looks up from the book he’s reading; his eyes are bloodshot but I don’t think it’s because he’s been crying. They’re probably red because he’s had his head stuck in a book all day and is wearing his old pair of glasses that he bought shortly after we moved in here. They probably don't help his vision much, if at all. I can’t remember the last time he wore contacts and I bet he has not gotten a new prescription in years.

There’s so many little things about Justin that I’m becoming aware of. One of the most unimportant being his prescription for contacts, but it makes me start to ask myself what other little things I’ve missed that he’s let go unattended. There’s probably a million things that I’m in the fog about, stupid shit that may have no bearing on my life, or huge things that do. As time passed, I unknowingly started to smear the world encasing us, only seeing clearly if I took the time to uncover the mess in my eyes. I don’t understand why I’ve missed so many of the big things, why I’ve let them go untouched or ignored. I have no clue how I found the fresh air, I’m still taking it in, slowly, day-to-day, cautiously breathing. I wish I knew where the beginning of the path was because maybe then I’d have a chance at leading Justin. It’s going to be hard to just stand beside him and wait for him to take my hand.

“Did you want something or are you going to stare at me all afternoon?”

I break from my thoughts and hold his eyes, wishing I could pretend we’re in a different time and I could tell him that what I wanted was a nice, slow blowjob. His expression is amused, but he’s not flirting with me so I’m not going to embarrass myself by asking for one. He’s not ready and I will wait because I know he will be soon.

“Brian?”

“Huh?”

“Are you all right?”

I walk closer and attempt to see the title of the book he chose to live in today but can’t make out the cover. The closer I walk, the wider his eyes get. He looks like he might bolt if I go further so I stop a few feet away from the coffee table in front of him. “What?”

“You… you seem… I don’t know.” He takes his glasses off and his eyes darken. “Is something wrong?”

Wrong? No. I’m just incredibly horny and it makes my mind scatter. “No.”

“Really? You seem like…”

He’s so jittery in his chair, folding his glasses in his lap and then unfolding them. He can’t ever decide on what to say or how to say it unless he’s angry. “I seem like what?”

“Like you’re preoccupied.” He shrugs his shoulders and puts his glasses back on. “Something with work?”

Preoccupied, yes. With work, no. Now I recall the whole reason I came in here in the first place. “I can’t find Gus. I tried calling his phone but I found it in his bedroom. Have you seen him? Lindsay just called. She’ll be here in an hour to say goodbye and he’s disappeared. ”

“Lindsay’s coming over?” Justin abruptly stands, throwing the book on the coffee table. “I’ll… I’ll go take a shower.” He tries to rush by me, his right arm drawn tight in a fist against his chest and a limp in his steps.

I grab onto the back of his sweater and pull him to a stop. “Justin, I asked if you have seen Gus?”

He sways a little as he faces me but doesn’t appear to notice. “I saw him go out back after lunch.”

“I already looked out there and didn’t see him. Are you sure he didn’t leave?”

He nods; his eyes focusing somewhere near my left ear. “I would’ve heard or seen a car if he left with one of his friends.”

“All right. He’s probably just sneaking a cigarette or something in the backyard and was hiding from me.” I let him go and fix his sweater on his shoulders, blocking out the feel of his pointy bones underneath the fabric. “I’ll go look again.”

“Okay. I’ll go shower now,” he speaks fast, but his voice is almost monotone.

“K.” The second Justin is upstairs I walk over to the coffee table and pick up the book. He’s been reading different books all week, mostly mysteries and horror stories, but this one is a lot different.

The Hatchet, by Gary Paulsen. Seriously? He’s reading a children’s book? I bet he grabbed this from the shelf thinking that it’d be the book that crappy horror film with the same name is based upon. It’s definitely not a horror book.

I read this to Gus when he stayed during the summer with us one year. It’s about this kid, Brian Robeson, who is on his way in a small plane to visit his dad in Alaska or… Canada. I can’t exactly remember. Before he left, his mother gave him a hatchet, which he attached to his belt before boarding the plane. During the flight, the pilot had a heart attack and the kid had to try to land the plane alone when no one would answer his mayday calls on the radio. He ends up crash landing near a lake and learns to survive all on his own, with only the help of the hatchet and the clothes on his body. The kid goes through hell but learns how to hunt, fish, make fire and build a shelter. A moose, a tornado, and a bear attacks him and a bunch of other crazy shit happens and by the end of the book a hunter’s plane finds him and rescues him. Overall, it was a decent book, if you had to read a kid’s book.

I never would’ve pegged Justin to read a book about the outdoors, let alone survival in the wilderness. I flip the novel open to the bookmarked page 70 and a line jumps out at me. ‘Long tears, self-pity tears, wasted tears.’ I remember this part, it’s a while before Brian realizes that he can’t sit around feeling sorry for himself and has to choose to live if he’s going to survive.

I close the book and place it back on the table. Justin doesn’t know it yet, but I think this book might actually provide more than an escape from reality. I hope that Gus doesn’t see this and get it in his head that he wants to read it again for reminiscence before Justin is finished with it.

Shit. Gus. I have to find him and make sure he is clean-shaven so I don’t have to hear Lindsay gripe. Gus has barely moved in and I’ve already fielded three phone calls from Melanie bitching about Gus. A few days ago, after a web cam call with him she called me afterward to bitch about me ‘letting’ him grow his hair out. After I told her that I had no control over Gus’ appearance, no matter how much I’d like to have, she called Lindsay and Lindsay called me, suggesting that maybe Gus staying in Pittsburgh isn’t such a good idea if Gus is going to go around looking like a bum. I got him a fucking haircut the next day but since then, he’s been rebelling by not shaving.

I step out back and look around the alcoves around the house to see if he’s up against a wall smoking or maybe even getting high. I’m not sure if he does that, I’ll have to see if he has a weed stash somewhere. I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s a good kid, as much as I hate to admit it, he’s a grown-up kid, but that doesn’t mean I think he’s completely straight in all senses of the word. I put a lot more trust in Gus than his mothers do, trust I believe he deserves, but I’m not naïve. He’s a fucking teenager and teenagers are usually up to no good when you can’t find them.

I scan the property, all the way back to where the forest meets the furthest line of our fence and then back across it again, and I still don’t see the little shit. It’s freezing out here so I’m thinking that Justin is wrong and Gus has gone somewhere because I made lunch an hour ago and I don’t think he’d be out here that long, or taking a walk in this weather. I turn to go inside and my eye catches movement inside of the wooden playhouse near the fence.

“You bought this for me when you had that party for Kinnetik and found out that my moms were bringing me and Jenny down for it. Remember?” he asks, his face framed by one of the windows. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are watery from the cold; he looks the same as he did the last time I saw him in it. Almost. His eyes hold more depth in them now.

I smile and laugh as I perfectly recall his excitement the moment he saw it in the backyard. “Vaguely.”

“And later that summer I helped Justin paint these blue.” He reaches his hand out the window and his long finger taps on the cracked, barely hanging shutter.

Justin always kept Gus busy with a project and included him in everything he could that we did. Having Gus around had been easy. It still is. “It’s cold out here, come inside, Gus.”

He scoots around to the door and holds it open. “Why don’t you come in here? It’s not so cold out of the wind.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“I’m not a kid either.”

“Just come inside. Your mom is going to be here soon and you need to shave the pubes from your face.”

He starts laughing and slams the little door, rattling the whole structure. “I don’t have pubes on my face!”

“You do,” I tease him, looking through the window. I laugh as I see his lanky body sitting on a tiny pink stool. “This is like that time that you hid out here and refused to come in when you were going back to Canada and we couldn’t find you anywhere in the house.” Gus had thrown such a fit that day, the only way he agreed to get on the plane, after crying the entire ride to the airport, was if me and Justin promised to fly into Toronto the next week for his first soccer game. That was one of the only times Gus had ever acted like his age.

“I’m not scared that you’ll make me go with her, Dad. That’s not why I’m out here.”

“Then why the fuck are you?” The wind picks up and blasts a chilling gust under my jacket, causing me to huddle closer to the house. “It’s too fucking cold.”

“Then come inside.”

“I can’t get my ass in there. I don’t know how you managed to get yourself in there.”

“It’s not that hard. Turn on your side when you come in, crawl to the corner and kick the door shut.”

“I’m not coming in there. If I didn’t go in there when you and Rel would beg me to play when you were ten, I’m not changing my mind now that you’re sixteen.”

“We pretended that you were the big bad wolf trying to blow the house down.”

“And you, Jenny and Rel were the three little piggies,” I say, remembering this game clearly.

“You could probably huff and puff and blow the house in now.” Gus pushes against the wall and the thing shakes around him.

“Get out of there before it falls in on you.”

“Fiiiine.” He comes out, his clothes covered in dirt, dust and cobwebs.

I start walking back up to the house and I hear Gus speaking softly behind me. “I wanted to be near her today and since you guys won’t let me go in her room…”

“She isn’t there, Gus.” I tell him, turning around to look at him and then back to the broken little house.

“Then where is she? I don’t see her anywhere around here.”

“You have pictures, videos that I made you.” I can’t face him and talk about her. Not right now. Not today. Three years isn’t enough time to ease, let alone erase the pain of seeing her disappear from my eyes forever.

“Why does Justin get to control it?” he asks angrily, running around to block my path to the porch steps.

“Arella was his daughter!” He has more rights to her memory than I do. Especially, because I’m the one that took her from him. Does Gus really want me to explain that to him?

“But she was your child too. And you’re both my fathers!” Gus runs up the stairs and disappears inside the house.

He’s right, from his child’s point of view, he’s right. But he just doesn’t understand everything. He never will and he’ll have to accept that just as I have had to. I walk inside and hear the doorbell ring the second I enter the warm house. Gus is waiting in the sunroom, wiping tears away from his cheeks while giving me a murderous glare.

“Do you want to go back to Canada?” I ask him, wondering if maybe all this is too much for him.

“No.” He grabs some tissue and starts blowing his nose.

“Do you want to go with your mother to Berlin?” His eyes fill with more tears and I don’t know if it’s because he wants to say yes and is afraid of what I’ll say, or if it’s because he thinks that I want him gone. “Before you answer me, just understand that I don’t want you to go, but if you want to, I’m sure we can make it happen. I’d understand.”

“Dad,” he whispers and puts his arms around me, hugging me tight. “Can’t I just miss her?” he asks. “Can’t I?”

I’m the world’s worst father in the world. “Of course you can.” I rub his back and try to comfort him even though I hear the doorbell ringing repeatedly, signaling Lindsay’s impatience. She can fucking wait. “You just have to understand that me and Justin deal with things differently than…”

“The general population?” he interrupts, pulling away from me. A half-smile tugs at his lips and he wipes the rest of his tears away.

I get a weird feeling that I’m looking at myself at his age, and it makes me want to weep too. “I’ll go get the door. Go upstairs and shave. I’ll tell your mom you’ll be down in a minute.”

“You’re not going to let her take me if she changes her mind, are you?”

I rub the back of his neck as we walk down the hall and tell him, “I don’t think she’d do that but if she tried, I’d do my best to make sure you stay here with me.”

 

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Saturday, December 17, 2016

“Hey, what are you doing with that?” I grab the book from Gus’ hands.

“I found it on the table in the living room. I thought I’d re-read it on the plane.”

“It was on the table because Justin is reading it,” I tell him. “Didn’t you notice that there’s a bookmark in it?”

Gus laughs and gives me a skeptical look. “Justin is reading that?”

“I read it to you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but…”

“Just leave it alone and go get your suitcase down here. And don’t think about making fun of him for reading this shit. I don’t think it’s so bad him reading a book about survival, do you?”

“No, you’re probably right. It’s not a bad idea at all.” Gus grins at me and runs upstairs.

I flip open the book and see that he’s only made it into Chapter 13. ‘In measured time, 47 days had passed since the crash. Forty-two days, he thought, since he had died and had been born as the new Brian.’ I read on to the next page and wonder if Justin has read these parts yet or if he stopped before he got to them. ‘He was not the same. The plane passing changed him; the disappointment cut him down and made him new. He was not the same and would never be again as he had been. That was one of the true things, the new things. And the other one was that he would not die, he would not let death in again.’

I place the book back on the table and walk over to the staircase. “Gus! Let’s go or you’re going to miss your flight and all the Hanukkah festivities!”

Gus slams his bedroom door and comes running down the hall to the stairs. “Hanukkah is already over,” he informs me as if I actually give a shit.

“Whatever.” I take his bag from him as he reaches the bottom step. “Justin’s in the pool house with Jake, go say goodbye.”

“You think I should interrupt his first session?” he asks wearily.

“What’s the real reason you don’t want to say goodbye to him?”

He bites his lip and looks at me with a nervous expression.

“Spit it out.”

“When I told him I was spending winter break with Ma he cried.”

“So?”

“I just… I told him goodbye last night.”

And Justin was a total mess afterward. He’s worried that Gus won’t want to come back once he sees how much easier it is living with Mel and Jenny compared to us. “Go say goodbye again. He’s not going to cry in front of Jake. Believe me.”

“All right,” he says, sighing, walking as slow as possible down the hall.

I busy myself by putting on my coat, sweater, gloves and hat and laugh at Gus as he comes toward me. “You are such saps.”

“Justin wasn’t crying,” he quips, going into the closet to grab his coat. “He was sad but he didn’t cry.”

“Well why are you crying then?” I ask, trying to not sound condescending but I think I still did.

“I think it’ll be the other way around.”

“And what way is that?” His teenage drama is really fucking confusing sometimes.

“You’ll realize that you want me to stay there.” He doesn’t look up at me, just starts buttoning his coat and biting his bottom lip.

“Gus, you have a job and you’re going to school here. Even if we wanted you to go back home, it wouldn’t be plausible. And we don’t. We want you here.”

He lifts his face and looks unconvinced. “This is my home now.”

So I used a poor choice of words in referring to Toronto as his home. “You’re right, this is your home, Gus, and it always has been and it will be until you don’t want it to be anymore.” I give him a hug before opening the door and ushering him outside. I hope that a scene like the one he made years ago doesn’t play out on the drive to the airport. I don’t think I’d let him go if it did.

 

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Saturday, December 31, 2016

“You still haven’t finished that book?” Brian asks, standing in the entrance to the living room.

“My hand gets tired if I hold onto it too long,” I explain to Brian, showing him that I’m holding it in my left hand. There’s no way I can attempt it with my right hand. Two sessions with Jake hasn’t made much of a difference because I’m so fucking far behind. Jake tries to be encouraging but I know that he’s worried that I might not get back the control I had three years ago.

“If you go get some oil; I’ll massage them for you,” he suggests, sitting down on the sofa beside me.

I look at the clock on the mantle and am shocked at the time. I was sure he would’ve left to go to Emmett’s party by now. “Don’t you have something better to do?”

“Like what?”

“Emmett and Drew’s New Year’s Eve Bash.” I grab the invitation from the side table and wave it around. “I thought you called and told him you’d be there.”

“I called to tell him that I wasn’t coming. You said you didn’t want to go and I wasn’t going to be gone tonight.” His eyes darken as they stare into mine and though the house is warm and the fireplace is roaring, chills race up and down my spine.

“I’ll go get that oil.” I stand up and try not to limp into the hall because I know he’s watching me. Once I reach the bathroom, I look at my reflection in the mirror and see how ugly and terrified I look. I don’t know how Brian could want anything to do with me when I look like a troll on death’s door. Even if I’m getting stronger inside I haven’t found a way to render the projection.

 

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While he’s gone I slip the skinny paperback book from the waistband of my jeans, place it on the coffee table and grab The Hatchet, curious to see how much further he has to go before he’s finished with it. He’s on page 157, so he’s almost through. ‘Come on, he thought, baring his teeth in the darkness—come on. Is that the best you can do—is that all you can hit me with—a moose and a tornado? Well, he thought, holding his ribs and smiling, then spitting mosquitoes out of his mouth. Well, that won't get the job done. That was the difference now. He had changed, and he was tough.’

“You’d better not tell me what happens,” Justin warns me, smiling a little as he walks back into the room, carrying the bottle of oil.

“I won’t.” I put the book back on the table as he enters and place it right beside the new one I bought him.

“What’s that?” he asks, seeing the new novel.

I pick it up and hand it to him as he sits beside me. “It’s called, Brian’s Winter.”

“This is the sequel?” he asks, bouncing in excitement.

“No, it’s a part of a series.”

“I didn’t know there was a series.”

“Neither did I until Gus told me on the way to the airport. He said he always wanted to read them but forgot to.”

“How many books are there?” He turns to face me and his body is so close to me, I want to reach out to touch his smile, but I refrain.

“There’s five. But the actual sequel to this is called The River.”

“So what is this?”

“The author wrote The River first, but after some reflection and some fans asking him to, they wanted to know what would happen if the story didn’t end where it does in The Hatchet and if Brian was stuck where he is for longer. So if you don’t read like the last two pages of The Hatchet it will pick up with Brian’s Winter, but in The River it will allude to the ending a little bit in The Hatchet. There are two other books after that.”

“Why would people want to read more about Brian going mad with loneliness and trying to survive in the winter? It seems pretty harsh,” Justin says, obviously attached to the character.

“I guess the author and readers figured that it’d be interesting to see just how much Brian could go through and survive. I might even read it when you’re done and I think Gus wants to as well.”

The clock on the mantle strikes midnight and Justin smiles at me through all twelve dings. “Thank you, Brian. I…” he puts his hand on my arm and I feel him shaking. “I’m glad you remembered today.”

“I remembered it last year too.”

His eyes cloud over and he looks away from me. “I don’t remember last year or the year before.”

I won’t tell him that the year before I remember watching him sleep fitfully from around 11:00 to well past midnight, wanting to do nothing more than hold him and tell him he was safe. I won’t remind him that last year he spent the whole night sitting where we are now, alone, doing god knows what because I wasn’t here with him. I won’t remind him of our fight that morning when I tried to get him to come out with me for breakfast at Debbie’s house, and how when he refused, I refused to go home and I spent the night at Michael and Ben’s house.

I take the book out of his hands and place it on the table. I pull him against my chest and relax against the arm of the sofa before positioning him between my spread legs. I cover his hands with mine, squeeze them and hear him stutter my name but I won’t say anything at all. I don’t need to. The memory we share of this occasion, burned into our minds speaks for the both of us.

 

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Sunday, December 31, 2006

59…58…57

“A missile launch seems appropriate,” Brian yells over the music and chanting.

53…52…

“We’re not in matching Vera Wangs,” I answer back, standing on my tiptoes so I can speak into his ear. “But I still made you walk down an aisle.” I point to the tiny aisle of glitter that leads to the center of the dance floor.

51…

He looks over to where I’ve pointed and laughs. “That was the only way to get onto the dance floor.”

47…

I grab the ring out of the pocket of my jeans, still swaying my hips against his and ask, “Marry me, Brian?”

44…

His left hand slides between our bodies, we’re pressed so close together that our bodies shield everyone’s view from what we’re actually doing. Not that they’d believe their eyes if they did see us. But this moment is about Brian and me and this way, our family and friends can say that they were there for it.

41…

He grabs my ring from the pocket of his pants and we dance with our hands trapped between our chests.

39…

“Are you two ready?”

37…

Brian and I both look to our left and Reverend Tom, not looking anything like a reverend mind you, is dancing beside us.

34…

“We’re ready,” Brian and I answer in unison.

32…

“As a representative of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania I, Reverend Tom Butterfield, bless you and urge you both to now speak your vows of marriage to one another.” Reverend Tom speaks loud enough for Brian and me to hear. He smiles at us, probably thinking of how crazy it is that he’s ‘secretly’ marrying Brian and I in the middle of Babylon on New Year’s Eve. When we decided that this was what we wanted, he was the only reverend we could imagine that would actually officiate for us.

29…

“I, Justin Matthew Taylor, take you, Brian Aiden Kinney, to be my beloved, to have and to hold you, to honor you, to treasure you, to be at your side in sorrow and in joy, in the good times, and in the bad, and to love and cherish you always. I promise you this from my heart, for all the days of my life.” I feel completely amazed that I was able to speak all of that without stuttering because my whole body started shaking the second I began to speak.

19…

“Put it on me,” Brian urges, grinning seductively, “slip it on my finger.”

I do as he asks and try to contain my excitement as the ring slides onto his beautiful finger. The lights bouncing around us make it glimmer and I can’t wait until we actually show it off.

17…

“I, Brian Aiden Kinney, take you, Justin Mathew Taylor, to be my beloved, to have and to hold you, to honor you, to treasure you, to be at your side in sorrow and in joy, in the good times, and in the bad, and to love and cherish you always. I promise you this from my heart, for all the days of my life.”

7…

He squeezes my hand a little as he slips the ring on my finger. My heart beats so fast as I stare up at him. And the crowd around us is going crazy for an entirely different reason than I am.

5…

“I declare you both wedded,” Tom tells us, patting our backs. “Justin, Brian, kiss your beloved.”

2…

The crowd around us roars at the very moment Brian and I kiss. Even though our eyes remain open as we kiss, everything around us becomes background static. I’m sharing a kiss with Brian Kinney, my husband, and that’s all that matters to me. We kiss for a long time, barely dancing as we let our moment sink in.

“Hey, you two!” Debbie breaks us apart by literally pulling Brian away from me.

I’m so happy, I can’t even be mad about it. “Hey, Debbie.”

Debbie looks back and forth between Brian and me with a worried expression. “I saw your mother’s reverend over here talking to you, Brian. Is everything okay?”

Brian grabs me around the waist and places his hands over mine over my hard cock. “Things are wonderful,” he tells her, nuzzling against my ear.

I nod at Debbie and smile. “Things are great.”

“Happy New Year, Sweetie,” my mother interrupts, pulling Tucker behind her.

“Happy New Year, Mom,” I say, pecking her cheek. “Tucker.”

Tucker laughs, “Happy New Year to you too, son.”

Brian snickers, “Your son-in-law is older than you, Tuck!”

“What?” Debbie and my mother gasp as I just laugh at Tucker’s confused look.

“Brian, Justin…” Emmett dances over to us and kisses both of our cheeks. “Happy New Year!”

“What’s going on?” Debbie asks, looking from me and up to Brian’s face.

“Have you set a date to be married?” Mom asks me.

“Oh yay!” Emmett yells. “I can’t wait to get started on planning the wedding again.”

“Did I hear you say you’re getting married?” Michael asks, stopping dancing and grabbing Ben to bolt toward us.

“Did we say that?” I ask Brian, tilting my face to kiss his jaw.

“I don’t know, did we say that?” he asks teasingly kissing my forehead gently while he pulls my hands back and behind my back so no one can see them.

“Is there some kind of problem, Brian?” Ted yells, sparing us all from watching him and Blake make out any longer. “Do you want me to talk to…”

“No, no problem,” Brian interrupts him.

“Brian and Justin are getting married,” Debbie fills Ted in on what she thinks is going on.

“Did you propose on the dance floor?” Emmett asks, jumping up and down.

“That’s so romantic,” Ben adds, licking the sweat from Michael’s cheek and making me want to puke.

“So now that they’re all here, I guess we should tell them,” Brian declares, pushing his clothed erection into my hands that are still behind my back.

“Tell us, Brian!” Michael pleads, “Ben and I have to get home soon.”

“So do Tucker and I,” Mom says, smiling deviously at me.

“Ahh! That’s sick!” I yell in answer, making other dancers turn their attention toward me.

“Tucker’s hot,” Emmett says conversely.

“Shut up!” I demand.

My mother yells, “Oh, Justin. Don’t you think we can all see you’re giving Brian a hand job behind your back? If you can do that in front of all of us then surely I can…”

I try not to think about how fucked up it is that my mother can so openly talk about my sex life. I twine my hands with Brian’s and bring them out in the open, dropping our right hands to cover my crotch and waving our left hands. “Brian and I just got married!” I announce.

Brian squeezes my dick with his right hand before dropping both of ours and moving to the side of me and snapping his fingers at everyone who looks completely stunned. “See?”

“You got married and didn’t invite us?” Mom asks, her eyes filling with tears.

“You were invited, Mother Taylor,” Brian assures her, pulling me close to him again. “You were all here.”

“The reverend,” Debbie gasps, “he was marrying you.”

“Yes,” I answer, grinning widely. “He married us just before the stroke of midnight.”

“Congratulations,” Michael says, extracting himself from Ben and throwing his arms around us.

“I just can’t believe you wouldn’t want us to know you were getting married,” my mother says angrily.

“It was about us,” I tell her. “We wanted it to go off without a hitch and this was what was best for me and Brian. The marriage is about me and Brian.”

Her expression slowly turns into a smile and she hugs and kisses both Brian and me. “Congratulations.”

“So you guys got married in the middle of the dance floor!” Emmett squeals.

“That’s even more romantic than just proposing,” Ben adds.

“I’m surprised you think so,” Brian snorts.

“I can’t believe we didn’t notice,” Blake comments. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Brian replies for us, “but it probably had something to do with you having your tongue down my employee’s throat for the last ten minutes.”

Ted blushes, “As if you both haven’t ever made out on the dance floor.”

“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it,” Brian defends.

Debbie steps up to both of us and puts her hands on our cheeks. “You two…” she says so softly we can barely hear her. “Whatever way you did it, I’m glad you did.” She then proceeds to hug Brian and me until we can’t breathe. “I’ve just... I’m so happy. I have to go find Carl. He left right after the countdown to use the restroom and I’m afraid he’s gotten lost.”

“Good luck.” Brian laughs and yells as she walks off. “If he’s going to be turned, it would be here.”

“Come on,” I say, turning my attention to Brian. “I’m ready to go home.”

“Me too,” Brian says, kissing my lips quickly. He looks at the rest of our friends who are still standing around us looking stunned. “We’re going to be unreachable for two weeks. If it really is an emergency then you can call the office, talk to Cynthia, and tell her to contact me. Otherwise…” Brian pauses and picks me up, locking his lips with mine as he spins us around for a moment.

I feel dizzy when my feet touch the vibrating ground once again, and if it weren’t for his arm holding me around my waist I’d probably fall over.

“We’ll see you in a couple weeks. I’m going to go do what you guys never thought would happen,” Brian continues mysteriously.

“What’s that?” Tucker is brave enough to ask, but I see my mother wincing.

“I’m going to go fuck my husband, the only man I’m ever going to fuck again!”

He. Did. Not. Just. Yell. That.

Holy shit! He did yell that, cause our family aren’t the only ones who are staring at us, everyone dancing anywhere close to us has stopped moving and they’re all staring at Brian and me. Holy fuck!

I can’t breathe.

“Come on, Sunshine,” Brian says, grabbing my hand and leading me through the crowd. “We need to go home and consummate our marriage.”

I’m in a fucking stupor as I follow him out to the coat check. I can hardly put my fucking jacket on, which amuses him completely. Somehow, I manage to follow him outside into the cool night air and catch his hand to walk beside him. I take in deep breaths and I’m just getting myself to calm down when the light from the post where we met shines down upon us.

Brian looks at me and smiles a private sexy smirk that leaves me breathless and speechless once again.

TBC in Tenebrosity Chapter 8
 

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