This time the tears spill before I can stop them.
I wipe them roughly with my sleeve, but more follow.
My protective arms are decades too late, and I know there’s no way to erase it.
But still I wrap myself around him, as if by some miracle my love could ever be fierce enough to undo everything that’s ever hurt him.
“This hug is for Mark,” I whisper. “Andthisis for you.”
My lips are salt-streaked from heartache.
I kiss him as though he’s the only man in the world.
Because for me, he is.
His body crumples and I catch him, the dam bursting at last.
He’s carried this secret for so damn long, living each day as though he’s being hunted, haunted.
In his mind, the monster looms close.
In his mind, he’s still that little boy.
Fear has become a cage, a life of endless shadows.
We’ve never cried together before.
It feels surprisingly intimate.
I’ll kneel on this gravel for hours if I have to.
Neither of us are willing to let go.
“I’m so damn proud of you.”
“Proud of me?”
“You got away from that asshole. You followed those power lines to the beach. Little Mark would be so happy to know that.”
His head rests against my shoulder, eyes reflecting the glow of the flames.
My hand strokes up and down his back until his breath calms.
I'll never let anyone hurt you again,I vow silently.Ever.
We let the tears flow without shame.
His voice is muffled against my shirt.
“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to tell you all this.”
“And I’m so glad you did,” I say. “I know it took guts.”
“I was scared to say anything. Thought you might be angry that I lied.”
“Because you changed your identity to protect yourself?”
“Because I told you I was from Longreach and that Beth was my only family.”
