My mind wandered as we drove through Centerville, headed north on 45, making excellent time. I could hear Chase's medals clanking in a box in the back seat as he wove his Audi effortlessly through traffic. The countryside was brown, the trees barren. The clouds were thick in the sky, and Texas had that familiar grey hue that so characterized December in the south.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked me. I turned from the window and faced him. To be honest, I hadn't been thinking about any one thing. I smiled.
"Nothing," I replied. "Just enjoying the view."
He gave me a flirtatious smile, a wink, and returned his eyes to the road. Our weekly road trips had become customary. Either he had a swim meet, and I played the supportive boyfriend of nine months, or I had a volleyball tournament and he tagged along and watched six guys jump up and down in skin tight shorts for two days straight. On the rare weekend we were both booked separately, we had to go it alone, and it was on those occasions that Coach Tye pulled me aside and told me to keep my focus in check.
"There's something on your mind, Monsieur," he said a minute of silence later. "What is it?"
"I'm just enjoying the road trip," I said. It was rare for him to force conversation through the silence, and I wondered why he was. We were the type who could sit together for hours, consumed in our own thoughts, content just being next to each other. "Why? What's on your mind?"
"Nothing, I just... have we finally run out of things to talk about?" he asked. I looked at him to assess if he was serious. He turned his head to me and smiled. I shook my head.
"Asshole."
"Okay, you wanna know what I was thinking about?"
"Yes," I said quickly.
"I was thinking that over spring break, you should come to California with me and meet my dad."
"Your dad? That's a big step."
"Not really. He already loves you. I've told him all there is to tell."
I slid my hand out of my pocket and onto his thigh, giving his firm leg a slight squeeze.
"I'm sure you haven't told him everything, Pal." Chase turned to me and smiled.
"You know the rule on touching in the car," he replied. We had had too many close calls in his Audi on the freeway that we'd instituted a no flirting policy.
Logically, I had to admit, meeting Chase's dad was the next step. He'd already met my brother and sisters. I was desperate for him to meet my folks, but there was a certain way I planned on easing them into the boy on boy thing that wouldn't absolutely break their small-town red state hearts.
But for whatever reason, I felt like meeting his father was a bigger deal. Chase did everything to gain his father's approval; he idolized the man. It was his biggest driving M.O. and bringing me home to meet him was definitely a test that would determine our entire future. If I passed, then...
Another minute of silence was followed by another question to break it.
"Coop." I turned to him. "I don't want to freak you out, okay, but I kind of want to ask you something."
"Okay," I replied, getting slightly freaked out.
"Do you ever think about getting married?"
And there it was. There was the reason he was bringing up his dad. There was the reason he was fishing for my thoughts. It would be a year for us in February, and there Chase was, wondering if the nine-month mark was the charm.
The truth was, I had thought about it. I'd thought about it a lot, mostly back when I thought he was still joining the U.S. Men's Olympic swim team. I'd thought about being able to grow old with a guy like Chase, and I very well could have. He had just enough easy-going go-with-the-flow to make him easy to live with, but enough initiative and assertiveness to rein me in when he needed to. And for that, we made a great team.
"Yeah, I do," I said. Then I took a pause. "Wait... to you? Oh, fuck no."
"Funny," he said with a chuckle. "No, I'm just asking. I was thinking... you know how some people have every detail of their weddings planned out? Are you one of those people?"
"No," I said as if he was ridiculous. "I don't even really think about it that often. Why, do you?"
"Not really. It's just on my mind right now, that's all."
I wanted to ask him why without sounding like I was adverse to the possibility of marrying him. I simply just wanted to know what had led him to this particular train of thought.
"If you did have to put a wedding on... what would it look like?"
"Oh, come on, Chase."
"Just humor me. I'm curious what Cooper Carpenter's dream wedding would be all about. I'm guessing the wine budget would be through the roof."
I laughed at him.
"Are you kidding? Open bar is the only way to go," I replied, getting a complete laugh for that one. "I mean, I don't know. I guess I would want to do something small but fun. Let's see..."
And then I really did start to think about it. I felt my brain picking through an infinite amount of detail as I described the perfect event, both to Chase and to myself.
"I would want to do it outside, of course. No church. Oh! Okay... Spencer's family has a house on this gorgeous island just south of Padre where we went for spring break last year. It's amazing; beautiful hills, breathtaking views, the bluest water ever."
"You sound like an ad out of a travel magazine."
"Shut up," I said, on a roll and not wanting to break my train of thought. "We find an open grassy hill on the island, or on the mainland, either one. And we put up a huge white tent."
"Two guys getting married in a pitched tent? Are you ready for the jokes?"
"You're a dick. You're the one who asked; would you let me finish, please?"
"Okay. A tent overlooking the water... great."
"And I'm talking like a big tent. White linen, Christmas lights. Huge ass tent." I pulled the image from my memory of the Kappa formal Devon had dragged me to earlier in the fall. "A million and half white orchids. And I want the whole thing decorated in sort of a Greek motif, with hanging flowers, and statuettes."
Chase turned his head to me.
"Seriously?"
"What? You asked. I'm on a roll here."
"Okay. So white orchids. I won't ask why specifically, but, okay... I guess we have florals picked out. Color scheme?"
"Yeah. I'm thinking white, and the color your car is with little accents of dark purple or royal blue or something." We'd gotten into a heated debate one night about the color of Chase's car. I personally loved it, and called it a champagne color. He said it was metallic beige, which I didn't even think was a real color.
I knew how gay I sounded, but he was fishing, so I was providing the ideas. It wasn't like I had seriously put thought into it, but as the image came into my mind, crystal clear, I described it to him how I saw it.
"I think only half the tent should be open at first. Like where all the cocktail tables and the champagne fountain are. And that half of the tent will overlook the water, and tables can spill out onto the grass outside. We'll start with cocktails an hour before sunset. All of our friends and family walking around, enjoying the view, drinking and eating Greek appetizers."
"Who's paying for all of this?"
"Will you please let me finish? Jesus," I said. Now that I was into it, I was into it, and I didn't give a rat's ass who was potentially footing the bill. "On the far end of the grassy knoll, right before the hill drops steeply to the water, I want there to be a willow tree."
"In Mexico?"
"You can put lights up on a willow tree, right?" I asked, not expecting an answer. "Anyway, just as the sun is going down, my brother will announce that we're ready to begin. Everyone will come over to the willow with their champagne flutes and stand around it. We'll have our close friends dressed in light linen suits, and the girls can wear little flowing cocktail dresses, I guess."
"Who's in the wedding party?" Chase interrupted. He saw my face. "Sorry."
"I guess Spencer and Sebastian for me, Devon, and whichever one of my sisters is still single by then. And you can have Billy, I guess."
"I'd probably put Billy and Matt on my side."
"Okay. I mean, it'll be a pretty casual thing, so maybe we don't even do an official wedding party. We can just tell those people to wear a certain thing, like matching bowties, and they can stand close to us. Anyway, you and me come out and stand there under the lights facing each other. We say some quick vows. Oh... we get Allison Krauss to sing `Down to the River'."
"You're unreal."
"If she's not available, my sister can sing it. She has a pretty voice and if she starts practicing now, it'll be good."
"Okay." He chuckled.
"So after that, they open up the rest of the tent. There's a huge dance floor, a buffet on one side and another bar on the other. Along the back wall, there's a huge stage. And this crazy, intense, party begins in celebration of our union. At that point, we can invite locals and tourists from South Padre to party with us. Oh, and I want the Black Eyed Peas for the reception. Non-negotiable."
"The Black Eyed Peas?"
"Yep. I want them to be the band at the wedding."
"So, you're planning a million dollar affair here?"
"Who said I was a cheap catch, buddy?" I looked over at him and smiled. "Why are you asking me this?"
"No reason," he answered quickly.
"Are you sure?" He looked over at me and shrugged. He knew full well why he was asking, and so did I. Anyone with half a brain would have known. It wasn't to fill the champagne colored car with conversation.
Part of me spent the rest of the trip freaking out. As much as an abstract wedding to Chase in the abstract future was fun to think about, knowing that he had some sort of future plan mapped out was a little disconcerting. Sensing my hesitation after the wedding conversation, Chase broke the no car contact rule and placed his right hand on my left thigh. It was that ability to ease me, even back then, that made me certain he was the guy I'd spend the rest of my life with.
And thinking back on that memory now, if I had said yes to him a few weeks later when he asked me, my life would have turned out so differently.
"Have you talked to Bass?"
"No."
"Have you told Kyle?"
"Come on," I said, tilting my head and bringing the cup of scotch to my lips. The liquid burned on its way down, like lukewarm Drano, only it didn't dissolve the lump of regret lodged in my throat.
"Just asking."
"I came straight here," I told Spencer. It was very much like the old days. I did something stupid. I came to Spencer, told him the story, and he reminded me just how stupid it was.
"Why is telling Kyle a big deal?" I looked to Spencer's left and was reminded that Troy was still there. I had sent Spencer the SOS when I left Morgan's hotel room, and luckily, by the time I made it back downtown, the two of them were done doing what they were doing, clothed, and sipping on aged scotch.
"Because he wouldn't understand," I told Troy. We'd taken turns catching him up to everything, starting with Chase's return and ending with the events of the last two hours.
"Quite frankly, Cooper, I don't understand either. Why put yourself in that situation?"
"Yours isn't to understand, Spence. Yours is to tell me what to do now," I said, my voice tired and barely registering. After what had happened, there were no more questions. There was no more room for understanding. That ship had sailed. The only thing left was to make a decision. The decision. The only decision that really mattered.
"Should I tell him, or not?" I asked.
"Okay, tell me one more time how it all went down," Spencer said. I'd asked the question twice already and both times Spencer demanded more clarification.
"I went in, I blackmailed him, and he said I didn't have enough on him to force him out. He called my bluff. And so he said that if I let him sleep with Chase for one night, he'd get out of town."
"Like that Demi Moore movie," Troy said. Spencer and I both raised an eyebrow. "Indecent Proposal. I beat off to that movie when I was a kid."
There was an awkward silence.
"Okay," I said, continuing on, brushing Troy aside. "Anyway, I said absolutely no way, no how, it wasn't happening. And he said he'd continue to get in the way unless I gave him what he wanted. So I offered him something else instead."
"You."
"Yeah," I said. It made me feel worse saying out loud, if that was even possible. I took another drink of scotch, and Spencer refilled my glass as if on cue. "He agreed and we started making out. He was under me on the bed and I was grinding him, and... you get the picture."
"Yeah, we do. And we also just ate, so please, skip that part," Spencer nodded, pouring more liquor into his own glass.
"So after about a minute, I couldn't do it anymore. I felt down there on myself and realized I wasn't getting anywhere. I sat up, I looked at him, and I just... I had to get out of there."
"And that's never happened to you before?"
"It's happened one time on my honeymoon with Devon, but that was after we'd done it six times in one day. And it was in Cabo. It was really hot, and I had just taken a shit. Today, everything should have worked. Cylinders should have fired, but they just didn't."
"I think that's what you need to figure out before you can decide if you should tell him or not," Spencer said.
"I don't follow," Troy replied. I was glad he said it, because neither did I.
"I'm saying if your body physically rejected the idea of sleeping with Morgan, then what's the point of bringing it up? A kiss is a kiss. I could kiss you right now, and it wouldn't be an issue, right?"
"I hope you wouldn't kiss him while I'm standing right here," Troy said.
"But the difference is, I might have done it if I could have," I said. Part of me wanted to think that I wouldn't have gone through with it, that I would have stopped myself at some point and realized it was stupid to bargain my body with a terrorist. But then there was a part of me that knew myself. Going through with it would have been in character for me. I had no way of knowing if it was my conscious or my subconscious that saved me, but either way, I felt guilty about it.
"Focus on the fact that you didn't," Spencer replied. "And thank your body for doing what it knew was right."
"I don't know," Troy said before I could respond. He didn't continue the thought for a few seconds, leaving Spence and I looking at him awkwardly. "I mean, I would want you... or the guy I was with... to come clean about something like this. If I loved him as much as you say this guy loves you, then you two can get through this, right?"
There was a second of reflection. Maybe Troy was right. Maybe Chase would hear the whole story and not think it was a big deal. Maybe he'd admire my willingness to do whatever it took to be with him. Maybe...
"What the fuck do you know?" Spencer replied harshly. "You're forty-four and in the closet. Coming clean isn't exactly your strong suit."
I hadn't expected that outburst, even from Spencer. It was clear that his frustration had finally boiled over. I saw the look on Troy's face change just in time to catch the arm swing through the air and make direct contact with my friend's face.
"Shit!" I shouted. I was around the bar in a second, face-to-face with a man who outweighed me by at least thirty pounds and had muscle padded in more places than I'd ever thought to work out at the gym.
Regardless of my reservation, I had to do it. It was guy code. It was the only option. Knowing that this chiseled sports caster would have me in a body cast in T-minus forty-five seconds, I squared off, planted my feet, formed my hand into a fist, and raised an arm.
I hit him across the face, catching him slightly off balance, as his torso was still facing Spencer, who had managed to pull himself upright while leaning on the bar.
"What the fuck?" Troy breathed, probably upset at the mosquito that had stung him across the cheek.
"Get the fuck out!" Spencer yelled, holding onto to his own chin.
"Spence, I'm..." the guy stammered.
"Out!" my friend hissed. Troy looked genuinely sorry for hitting Spencer, but I knew my friend and his zero tolerance policy. To be honest, I was surprised the two had lasted that long to begin with.
My mind was still racing about what had happened when Troy left the kitchen, grabbed his coat, and let himself out. As soon as the door clicked shut, Spencer fell onto one of his bar stools. I ran for a steak in the freezer and tossed it to him. I took out a handful of ice and wrapped it in a paper towel for my hand.
By the time I handed the pack of meat to Spencer, I realized that we weren't just dealing with a punch in the jaw here. I looked at my friend and saw a slight contusion just below his lip.
"Holy shit," I said.
"Wha?" he asked. He looked up at me with huge eyes. "Wha?"
"Don't say anything," I said. I grabbed mine and Spencer's coat, and his keys off the hook by the door. "Just... follow me."
"Where are we... ouch... where are we going?" I handed him the makeshift ice pack and he held it up to his chin. My hand would have to suffer through.
"Are you going to tell me where we're going?" Spencer asked, ignoring my two attempts to tell him not to say anything. I turned around to lock Spencer's door when I heard it.
"There you are!" Kyle exclaimed coming up the stairs. I looked at him, turning the key. Spencer and I must have looked like a fucking sight standing there, bloody knuckle to bloody face.
"Yeah," I replied, confused as to why Kyle looked like he was staring directly at a ghost.
"Where the fuck have you been?"
"I was at the Hilton and then I came here. Why?"
"We've been trying to find you for like an hour," he said. "What happened to him?"
Snapping back to reality, I corralled both Spencer and Kyle towards the landing, where we headed straight for Spencer's car.
I explained what had happened between Spencer and Troy, as we piled into the car.
"Shit, I forgot my phone," I said. I hopped out of the driver's seat and ran two cars down to where my car was parked. I reached in, pulled out my phone, and went back to where Spencer and Kyle were waiting.
"Can someone tell me where we're going?" Spencer lisped.
"Here," I handed my phone to Kyle. "We're going to the hospital, idiot. That asshole cut your chin and it looks pretty bad."
"Are you serious?" he asked. He pulled down the visor mirror as I pulled out of the parking lot and sped down Bryan St. towards the freeway. "Fucker!"
Spencer punched the glove box hard enough I thought his airbag might deploy.
"Um, Coop," Kyle cleared his throat. "Where has your phone been?"
"In the car," I replied. "Why?"
"We've been trying to reach you for an hour," Kyle said calmly.
"I was at Spencer's," I said.
"Evidently," Kyle said. "It would have been nice had you told someone that. Or, I don't know. Answered one of your fourteen missed calls!"
I reached back and took my phone from Kyle. Why the hell had they been trying to reach me so badly? Why the fuck was there a manhunt going on for me? I sped onto I-35 northbound towards the medical district, the same road I had taken in the opposite direction an hour prior.
"What was so important that you had to get ahold of me? And who is we?"
"Me and Chase," Kyle replied. I stopped at the mention of his name. I still hadn't decided what to do, but hearing Kyle say that Chase was looking for me like a madman made worst case scenario flash through my mind.
"Why are you and Chase looking for me? Why are you and Chase doing anything together?"
"Don't get mad," Kyle began.
"Exit here," Spencer said. I crossed three lanes in half a sentence in order to exit at Medical District Dr. The logo for Cook's Children where both my kids had been born came into view. The general ER at Baylor was two lights down.
"I'm listening," I said to Kyle as I rolled onto a red light.
"I called Chase a while ago and told him that you might possibly be going after Morgan."
"Oh shit," Spencer breathed.
"You did what?"
"I was worried about you, and for good reason," Kyle explained.
"That wasn't your place," I said.
"I wasn't sure what you were going to do."
"I didn't do anything!" I said defensively, punching the gas, lurching us forward. I realized that there was no need to snap at Kyle, seeing as to how he didn't know about my near miss. "I didn't do anything," I resaid in a calmer tone.
"Mhmm," Spencer said.
"Do you want to make it to the hospital?" I clenched my teeth at him.
"Wait, what happened?" Kyle asked.
"Nothing," I said quickly.
"Cooper almost traded sex in order to get Morgan to skip town, but he couldn't get it up, so his plan... well... it flopped."
"Cooper--"
"It seemed like a good idea at the time," I said, turning left and into the Baylor ER drop off. We continued our conversation as we hustled into the emergency room.
"Really? Because to me, it seems like the worst idea possible," Kyle said.
"You go sign in," I said to Spencer. He walked towards the admitting station and took a seat in one of the windows. The ER wasn't full at that time of evening on a Sunday. There was one really old guy waiting in the corner, a kid holding his stomach, and a boy about Mike's age with what looked like his mother holding onto his arm which was wrapped in a t-shirt.
"So what happened?" Kyle asked me when we finally got settled down.
"Nothing. I went over to reason with him. He made me a deal, I couldn't do it, so I left. I went to Spencer's to see if I should even tell Chase about it or not."
"Shit," Kyle said. "That's why he freaked out. You need to call him."
"Why?"
"I told him you went to the Anatole and he booked it over. A few minutes later, he was knocking on my door saying he couldn't find you and that you weren't answering your phone."
"Shit," I said. I looked down and began dialing.
"Evidently Morgan wasn't there when he showed up, and neither were you."
"Hey babe," I said as soon as Chase answered the phone. I could tell he was more relieved than anything to hear my voice.
"You're okay," he sighed. "Where are you?"
"The hospital," I answered.
"What? What's wrong? Why are you at the hospital?"
"No, no, no... we're here for Spencer. He got hit and his face is bleeding, and... it's a long story," I replied. Just as I was about to explain it, Spencer motioned us and we followed him out of the waiting area and into the ER. There was much more action going on this side of the door than where we had just come. I wasn't sure how he'd managed to skip the line, but I'm sure a sizable donation from Spencer Davis to Baylor Medical wasn't far off.
"So you aren't hurt?" Chase said, his voice growing agitated over the phone. Somewhere in the background, I could hear Kyle saying to someone over the phone that they'd found me.
"No, why would I be hurt?"
"Hold on," Chase said. I heard his car roar to life. "Which hospital are you at? I'm on my way."
I told him, and a minute later, he hung up.
"Bass is on his way," Kyle said.
"Chase is on his way," I replied. Spencer shot me a look, and I returned it with an even shrug.
"I should call Devon and tell her we found you," Kyle said. He left the room just as a nurse was getting Spencer situated into a bed.
I took the brief lull to assess what had just happened. I left the hotel, not sure what Morgan was planning to do, but quite positive that I didn't care. I was ready to join Chase on the side of indifference. He couldn't affect us if we didn't let him. I left the hotel sure that it was best to simply let the guy be.
But somewhere on my way to Spencer's, Kyle called Chase and told him I planned on paying Morgan a visit? I wasn't sure what made him do that, but I wasn't surprised that Chase freaked out. He knew what Morgan was capable of, and evidently I didn't have a clue. Regardless, when Chase showed up at the Anatole and neither Morgan nor I were there, I'm sure his mind immediately latched on to the worst case scenario.
I imagined him flipping out, maybe breaking a thing or two. If he thought that Morgan had taken me off somewhere, then I felt like even more of an idiot for going there in the first place. I didn't see him as some deranged killer. Every time I'd seen the guy, he looked like a shadow of a man. Pathetic. I wasn't afraid of him physically, but apparently Chase had a different view of the guy.
"The man hunt is off," Kyle said returning. We listened to a nurse explain that they had used a local anesthetic on Spencer and that a resident was on his way to give Spencer a couple stitches. The cut wasn't as bad as I'd thought, but in order to avoid a bad scar, it was best that we had come in.
Kyle rattled off a few questions for the nurse, including things I never would have thought to ask.
"What hour of his rotation is the resident on? What prior experience does he have with facial stitches? What will he do to minimize scarring?"
I thought my friend was being thorough, if not slightly over the top. After the interrogation, the two of them hung around Spencer's relaxed body and waited.
Five minutes later, Sebastian came howling into the room.
"You're alive," he said. I wasn't sure if he was talking to me or Spencer, but we both nodded and smiled at him. "You really gave your little boyfriend a scare."
"Me?" I asked.
"Yeah. And what the fuck happened to you?" he asked, turning to Spencer. He took a seat in the second visitor chair next to Kyle while I stood on the opposite side of the bed.
"Troy hit him in the face," I explained.
"Why?"
"Spencer made a crack about the guy still being in the closet, and the guy punched him, I guess."
"Has he been like that before?" Kyle asked. His face betrayed a reasonable amount of concern. It was easy for us to all calm down knowing that Spence was about to get treated.
"If you're asking if he's hit me before, the answer is obviously no," Spencer replied out of one side of his mouth. "I had no clue he had a violent streak."
"It's those former athletes," Sebastian said matter-of-factly, as if he'd read the information in the Times or the Journal. "When they stop taking those steroids, the rage doesn't go away."
The door to the room slid open silently and a cute medical personnel wearing blue scrubs walked in holding a tablet.
"Okay, we have patient Spencer Davis, age 40, in for repair to a skin contusion on the left side of his chin. I suppose you're Spencer," he said, turning to Kyle and smiling. "Kidding. How's the patient doing?"
"I can barely feel my face," he said.
"Perfect," the doctor replied. "That way you won't feel the four needle punctures I'm about to make. I hate to clear out the peanut gallery here, but I'm going to have ask your three fine looking brothers to wait in the lobby."
"We aren't..." I started to say, before realizing that visitation was probably family only in that particular ER room.
"We'll get out of your way doctor," Kyle said in a voice that could only be described as affected.
"Someone will come and fetch you fellows when the procedure is over. It'll take about fifteen minutes, tops, once the anesthetic fully kicks in." I watched Kyle and the doctor exchange another look as we all filed out of the room.
"It would be so nice to know what all of this was about," Sebastian said as we walked. We followed the sterile corridor out to the lobby. As soon as we turned in, I saw Chase, standing at the nurse's station saying that he needed to get in and see Spencer Davis.
"I'm sorry sir, he's headed into surgery, and it's family-only beyond that point..."
"Hey," I said weakly. He looked at me for a second, a sigh of relief clearly painted across his face.
"Hey," he said. He walked over and gave me a big hug. "I thought something had happened to you."
"I'm okay," I said, not caring a single bit that everyone in the lobby was staring.
"Why did you go over there by yourself? What the hell is the matter with you? What were you thinking?"
"Chase," I said, breaking the embrace. I looked him in the eye. "I kissed Morgan. And I almost slept with him, but I didn't go through with it."
He didn't say anything, and so I continued.
"He wanted me to give you up for a night in exchange for his leaving, but I couldn't so, I offered to do it myself. And... um... I started to, but I couldn't and I only did it because I really did think that he would--"
"Shut up, Cooper," he said. "Just... shut up. He's gone."
"What?"
"When you weren't at the hotel, I asked if he was still staying there and they said that he had checked out. He took the shuttle to DFW Airport. He's gone."
There was only one reason why someone went to DFW Airport when Lovefield was less than ten minutes away. It was the international airport. The implication in what Chase had said was unmistakable.
"I'm so sorry, babe."
"I don't care. I don't care what happened or didn't happen. I just... it's over. He's gone."
Chase leaned down and kissed me. I could feel the release of tension in his lips as he breathed into me. It was like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders and I was the only person in the entire world he could see.
"I love you," I said. I followed Chase to the row of seats occupied by Sebastian and Kyle. We sat down and Chase instinctively took my hand.
"Ouch," I said, pulling away. I had forgotten that my knuckles were still throbbing from the punch to the bull.
"What's wrong?" Chase's face was filled with concern.
"Nothing, I just... nothing," I leaned into him and gently put my hand on his leg. It was the position I wanted to spend the rest of my life, and for the first time in a long time, it felt like that was actually going to happen.
They say that most people get their forever relationships. That there is that one person who we're meant to spend the rest of our lives with. I had once been afraid that I had screwed that up, not once but twice. Part of me feared that I'd never have the chance to experience that forever relationship again.
However, sitting there in the lobby of that hospital with Chase at my side and three of my closest friends not far from me, I realized that we don't get only one of those lifelong loves; I was lucky enough to have four. And it was when I realized that those four guys were my forever that I was able to sit back, sink into Chase with my head in his nook and my hand on his thigh, and begin to enjoy the rest of forever.