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“We’re…we’re getting there, aren’t we?” he asks, and I have to chuckle because I remember when he spoke those same words to me weeks ago.
“Yeah,” I mumble against his puffy lips, nipping at his jaw as I descend to his neck. “We are.”
We’re going to get there. We’re going to move past this. We’re going to be together—out loud and free—and this long painful journey will have been worth it.
“We have the rest of our lives to,” he adds, resting his cheek against my pec. “I really fucking love you, Noah Scott.”
“And I really fucking love you, Jarred Walker.”
With my entire angry, bitter, vulnerable, sometimes sweet, heart.
EPILOGUE
One Year Later
I still love the first day of camp.
As I look around at all the bubbly campers, I smile with pride. It took work to get this many people to sign up. We had to promote the crap out of this place, even diving into social media which Noah had to painstakingly talk me through. It’s still not as many campers as I used to get but that’s okay. I have a different mission now, and I’ll be happy to simply spread it to as many people as I can. Kids of all ages—seven to seventeen—all tumble in. I’m surprised to see that some of these campers are returners. It seems that some parents could forgive and understand the fucked-up situation that happened last year.
What’s even more surprising is that most of my counselors are also returners. It makes my chest beam with respect and admiration for them. Kendall and Patrick are here, having been loyal and steadfast in this journey to a new beginning. I’ve given them more responsibilities at camp, making sure they know just how much I appreciate everything they’ve done to help me.
My twins stand by the entrance, happily chatting away with some campers. My heart swells at seeing them here. Even though Jenny signed the divorce papers a few months ago, the twins still spend as much time as they can with me.
Not surprisingly in the least, all of the counselors let out a breath of relief at the fact that Bryce wasn’t coming back. Apparently, I had been blind all these years to what a monster that kid really is. We pressed charges against him for what he did, but they got dismissed, giving him only community service for his crime. Although Noah still swears he’ll kill him if he ever sees him again, I’ve taken a more righteous path. I’ve forgiven him just like God would want.
God.
I feel him every day. His warmth, his love, his guidance. It’s comforting now, not stifling, to believe in a God that believes inme.
“You nervous?”
I smile as I turn to my incredible boyfriend. Noah’s wearing his new Camp Acceptance polo, clipboard in hand as he surveys the campers. He wanted to be a part of this process as much as I wanted him to be. I’m grateful for the fact that this past year, he’d drive up with me sometimes during the weekend to help me get everything set up. UNC has been great to him, providing him with a combination of loans and scholarships to get him through the rest of college.
"I'm excited," I say, rubbing his back tenderly as he fusses with the list in his hand. I lean down and whisper in his ear. “I think I should get a congratulatory treat later for getting all this done.”
He scoffs but leans into my touch. “I thinkIdeserve a treat. You know how much shit you put me in charge of? How did you manage to do this on your own?”
“You have Father Matteo to help you,” I chuckle, gesturing at our resident priest. He’s not going to be leading mass but, instead, he’s going to be in charge of the multi-spiritual center we converted the chapel into. “You’re just too stubborn to ask for help.”
He scoffs. “As if I need the help.” His eyes widen as he circles something on the list. “Fuck, maybe I do. I forgot all about welcome packets! Fuck!”
“It’ll be okay, baby,” I say with ease, not stressing in the slightest. “Why don’t you go see to that before you stress out even more.”
“Right,” he says with a curt nod of his head. Absentmindedly, and just like our routine, he leans up on his toes to press a quick kiss to my lips. Just like that. In public where I happily accept.“My old-ass boyfriend is so wise.”
I playfully knock my shoulder into his. “Go, you little shit.”
He laughs and kisses me once again before rushing to Kendall who also seems panicked about the welcome packets. I take a moment to bask in it all.
Noah and I are okay. We’ve made it work. I’ve come a long way from where I was a year ago—alone and scared—not embracing who I truly am. Now, Noah and I are happily together, not hiding, not coated in shame, no longer secrets whispered in the dusk. We’rereal.
I pat at the little box in my pocket, chuckling to myself as I picture the look on his face when I show it to him tonight at a dinner I planned by the lake.
What Noah doesn’t know is that by the end of this night, he’ll no longer refer to me as his boyfriend, but his fiancé.
