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“I don’t want to read it.”

But yeah. He would read it. When he was ready.

He felt Beau move closer, felt Beau’s arm come around his shoulders, and Archie leaned into that silent offer of comfort and support.

The minutes ticked by.

“Are you falling asleep?” Beau asked gently.

Archie moved his head no.

Another minute or two. Beau said, still careful, “I guess the good news is, there isn’t any reason you couldn’t leave Twinkleton now.”

Archie opened his eyes, drew back to study Beau’s face. “You don’t think so?”

Beau’s half-smile was rueful. “You’re pretty noncommittal, every time I try to bring up the possibility.”

“The possibility of?”

Beau said succinctly, “Us.”

Archie was silent. It wasn’t great timing. He was feeling emotionally wrung out, hollow. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to be what Beau wanted, needed. He wasn’t sure of anything. What was the point to any of this? Was there a point?

Beau said gruffly, “I’ve never seen you cry before.”

Archie had cried before. He had cried the afternoon Beau had told him it was over. Cried in John’s arms. The first and only time. John had promised that everything would be okay, eventually, and then they’d gone out on the boat. Archie’s tears had washed away in the salty spray, dried in the windswept sunlight.

He looked at Beau, realized how tired Beau was. How much discipline it was taking for Beau to keep his feelings in check. Beau’s work day had started with a second homicide, followed by a suicide. He was fatigued and stressed and worried about a lot of things, but he had come after Archie, made sure he was the one who broke the news, made sure that Archie was all right.

Archie gazed into Beau’s eyes and saw the concern, the kindness. He could see that Beau loved him.

And he loved Beau. Still loved him after all these years and all that hurt. Would probably always love him.

What was life if not these fragile connections? Those hopeful tendrils stretching upward, outward toward the warmth and sustenance of closeness and belonging. Not always strong enough to endure a lifetime, but real while they lasted.

Everything while they lasted.

He wiped the heel of his hand against the corner of his eyes a final time. He said, “What time do you have to be back at the station?”

Beau considered, shrugged. “I can wait.” His blue gaze was steady, serious. “I’ll wait as long as you need.”

Archie said slowly, “Would you like to go sailing?”