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By now he suspects that perhaps Harris had lied to him all those years ago, about what had happened at the funeral. Even that fucking note, that Rian had read so many times, seems absolutely fake right now. Rian has torn it to bits, a long time ago, but the hollow words of the last message Ty had supposedly left for him, never leave his mind.
“Rian, please don’t call me. I can’t give you what you want. I need space. I just can’t do this with you. I’m sorry. Tayida.”
Rian keeps sketching as his mind feverishly tries to solve this mystery.
Why is Harris going through all this trouble?
Why does he even want Rian?
Why can’t he just leave with his son and never look back?
Being Bran’s dad has given Rian faith that he isn’t destined to be alone. That love isn’t out of reach. That second chances aren’t impossible.
Rian looks about his workstation. Still very much unsettled, he can recognize the desperation in his erratic thoughts.
He snorts a laugh at a particularly ridiculous one.
Call Monica.
Of course, he won’t call his aunt Monica to ask for help. He already knows she would most likely betray him and Bran, expecting a payout from Harris. Rian imagines she might even stall by telling him that he simply must be kinder to his husband – he is an important man, with a very demanding job. Rian must lower his expectations and know his place.
Rian genuinely wonders if the way he looks gives people the confidence to openly assume to know what kind of man he is, fully expecting him to be submissive and subdued. Was it his long hair? Or the fact that he loves his son unapologetically and never holds back his affection for Bran?
He is no longer the waif of a gangly tall boy he was when they finally broke free from their nightmare home in Alabama. His six-foot-two frame carries a good one hundred and eighty pounds of lean muscles. Rian maintains his physique with a vigorous daily swimming routine. He goes for weekly runs in the park with Bran, pushing him in his jogger stroller. They often do a few laps and spend the rest of the day mainly playing on the grass and enjoying the sun.
He sighs and tries to bring his thoughts back to his work.His hands are clean, and he lays them on the creamy white sheet of thick paper, feeling strangely sad as if the sensation of the sticky charcoal no longer staining his fingers was the last lingering impression of Ty's skin.
Such a hopeless fool.
Rian takes a deep breath. He will only work on his storyboard today, making sure he has the rough details outlined before he gets back to it tomorrow. Hopefully, he can tackle this project with the productive energy it needs. He doesn’t want to disappoint his readers or his son.
Anyone in his position, living the way he does, would have completely given up on trying to create and write. He is well aware, that because he continues working with the same level of passion and productivity, people will be less likely to believe something terrible could be happening in his home. Perhaps he would be accused of exaggerating his dire circumstances, should he decide to speak up.
Maintaining some semblance of normalcy is what keeps him mentally afloat. Keeping busy with work commitments, the charities for veterans and LGBTQA+ aid organizations he is active in, and raising his son, give him plenty of reasons to suppress the memories of the violence he is subjected to. He endures and moves on.
Rian continues writing books with vigor because his son will read them one day soon. Rian wants him to know he created them for him. Bran inspires and motivates him. His son is the source of his strength, the reason he wakes up every day and powers through sadness and desperation.
He looks up at the baby monitor. Bran is still napping, his arms stretched out above his head, happy and relaxed, smiling in his sleep. Rian grins at the sight of his little firecracker.
Somehow, Bran has successfully managed to protect Rian’s soul. The physical pain he endures at the hands of his husband, washes over him after just one look into Bran’s fiercely gorgeous chocolate-brown eyes.
It’s like Harris can’t do real damage anymore. Perhaps his husband senses this barely perceptible shift in Rian and that is why he has been so brazen lately, trying to bring Rian’s fear back around.
But these past few months, Ri is simply tolerating him, and Harris knows it.
Something stirs in him. A dangerous thought worms its way into his mind.
It is only a matter of time.
For what? Something is about to tip over. The feeling of foreboding is too strong to be ignored.
* * *
Error,email not delivered. Incorrect email address.
Saved to drafts.
Dear Ty,
