Page 114 of Emmett

Do we need a sixth dog? Absolutely not. Is it likely that we’ll return home with only one more dog? Also absolutely not. This house has gone from empty, just myself and a large catalog of staff with whom I had no connection, to a home always filled with people that we love and animals that needed somewhere to go.

I had lived a life that my grandfather would have been ashamed of, and I would have been happy to continue to live that way until a boy just as broken as I was walked into my life and gave me something to come back to.

The changes that I’ve made have been small; saying thank you to my staff and giving them bonuses for the holidays. Bi-annual charity galas alongside Fowler and his team. I’ve used the fire that my grandfather encouraged me to stoke to burn away the masks that I had built to protect myself. The images of my incarceration no longer circulate, and I donated my grandparents’ house to a non-profit last fall which aims to help queer youth avoid homelessness. That house was my safety net when I would have had nowhere else to go, and now it’s the safety net of anyone else who needs it.

I look to my fiancé and the smile spread wide across his face as he stands in my office, throwing me a wink, and my chest warms. If hurting him was the worst thing that I’ve ever done, marrying him will be the single greatest.

His hands slide over my hips as he presses his lips to mine, and I feel that smile still. “Come on,” he tells me, “we’re gonna be late.”

I take his hand, following his lead as he steps out of the room.

I’d follow him anywhere. I’ll follow him always.