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“Now,” Cameron says while taking a step back. “Go back home, because I’m busy.”
I join in, loving the way they express their love and the way they laugh, when he winks like Mel did just a few seconds ago. I hope Cameron’s serious, because I really need him in my arms. I really need to reconnect and to make a promise not to leave him ever again, not only with words, but also with my body. Then one day, when I’m better, and settled in my life and can take care of him, I’ll go down on one knee and ask him to make me the happiest man on earth.
He steps in to hug them again, and then in that cocky way I so love in him, he says to his sisters, “Let me show you to the door.”
When I snicker, he turns around, and the wicked smile he sends my way has my cock rising to half-mast and pushing against my trousers.
We still need to talk, but after that he’s mine to love and care for.
When he comes back, he doesn’t stop until our chests are pressed together. Then he goes up on his tiptoes, and I place my hands on his lower back to keep him close.
He pulls my head towards him, his mouth taking mine in a hot kiss, and I’m more than happy to follow his lead as I want him as close as possible.
“I love you, G.”
I could cry at hearing him call me by my old nickname. This tells me more than everything else that he has truly forgiven me.
“I love you too, Cammy. More than anything.” I can’t say more because his lips are on mine again and all my brain cells are going south.
“Let’s go to bed,” he says after he pulls back, and I’m ready to follow.
I’ll follow him anywhere he takes me.
Epilogue
Three months later
Cameron
I’m sitting on a chair in my sister’s garden, watching my boyfriend . . .
Fuck, I can’t get enough of hearing or saying that word. It makes my world right. My body vibrates and my heart is full. If I wasn’t in a place full of people, I would scream and giggle like a five-year-old enjoying his new toy.
Then there are those times when I think of him waiting for me at home. And those times at work, where I can’t get my mind out of the gutter, and I spend most of my time replaying the naughty things we do at night in my head.
A loud giggle has me turning around to witness Gael jumping, as bunnies do, trying to be everywhere at once. He does giant wobbly jumps while trying to catch my niece, Bea, and her friends. He looks ridiculous in his white Easter bunny costume, with pink cheeks and huge ears. I especially love the big pink bow he has tied around one of the ears, but he doesn’t seem to mind. And the kids seem to be enjoying the egg hunt with a giant bunny following them around and trying to grab them before they can get hold of the eggs.
I can’t take my eyes off them—off him—and notice how much Gael has changed in such a short period of time. Three months ago he was broken, scared, and alone. Today, he’s strong, courageous, and happy.
I still can’t believe we’re here together. For years, I thought I’d lost everything. For years I thought no one could unbreak my heart and make me whole again. Of course, I wasn’t counting on him coming back and giving it back to me—whole. But he did.
Now I know what it’s like to live with his loss, I’m not taking him for granted, and I’m not letting him go. We both know we need to work on our relationship, on ourselves, and on overcoming the past, which is still creating fear in both of us. While we have lots of fond memories, we also have lots of pain we need to work through so it won’t prevent us from being together forever. Because that’s what I want. Gael and I, forever.
I watch him pick up the kids and make them fly, and then gently place them back with their feet on the ground. I laugh when they ask him to go again and again, and he doesn’t refuse once.
“Kids? Time to eat.” John, my sister’s husband, calls them and I watch as they all try to take Gael’s hand to be accompanied to the table.
I shouldn’t be dreaming of him with a baby in his arms.
Those arms are now as strong as they were when we were younger. The broken man I found on the street is no longer there. His body has recovered, and it’s full of energy and passion for life and for me. And I’m making the most of it.
I wish I could say his mind has recovered as well as his body, but I can’t. He still wakes up at night sometimes with nightmares, and he clings to me as if I’m the only anchor that can keep him grounded to the life we have.
I suggested to him that he should see someone to help him navigate his past and the trauma he went through. I’m glad he followed my advice and now, once a week, is seeing Angie, his therapist. I met her, because Gael wanted me there the first time, but now he goes alone and then tells me everything. He doesn’t have to, and he knows that, but I’m happy he wants to share that part of his life with me.
He doesn’t go out much, but he’s planning to go back to school in September. I couldn’t be more fucking proud of him. He’s going to be a wonderful social worker. His need to help those going through what he did made his choice easy. He’s like a sponge trying to learn everything at once, and he’s always got his nose deep in some books or the Internet. It’s as if he wants to catch up as quickly as possible.
We spend our days trying to make up for the time we spent separated, and I love every single indoor or outdoor date Gael comes up with. He has lots of fantasies that he wants to fulfil, and I’m always ready to make him happy. From making love in front of a fire made of candles, to a gourmet dinner prepared by his own hands. I love them all and I can’t wait for the next one.
