Page 39

Thirty-Seven

Isaac

T he plane lands early, and I briefly consider going to a hotel to sleep off the jet lag, but I decide to just go straight to his house. I couldn’t rest if I wanted to. Not being this close to him and having so much to work out together.

When I land, I switch my phone off Airplane Mode, and there’s one text from Jensen that chills me to the bone.

I’m sorry.

But when I call, it goes to voicemail. He must be sleeping.

I practically run to the taxi stand. It’s six o’clock in the morning, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll wake him up if I have to. We just have to talk this out and everything will be fine. I’ll probably be on a plane back to South Carolina by tomorrow morning.

I’ve never actually been to Jensen’s house, but I have the address, so I give it to the driver and wait anxiously in the back seat as he drives us there.

Jensen still doesn’t pick up.

The drive is agony. It’s only twenty minutes, but it feels like hours. I distantly recognize my song playing on the radio and how incredibly trivial it feels. It’s just a song. And I’m just a singer. Like either of those really fucking matters compared to love and the people in my life who make it worth living.

Would I really put my love for Jensen aside because of this one stupid fucking job?

When the cab driver pulls into a nice suburban neighborhood, I feel closer to Jensen. I sit upright in my seat and eagerly wait for him to stop in front of one of the houses. It’s a white brick two-story house where we stop, and I pay him so quickly, I’m tempted to just toss him my credit card and run.

When the transaction is done, I leap out of the car and dash up to the front door. I bang on it loudly and pull out my phone to call him again.

No answer on either.

“Jensen!” I shout, although drawing attention from neighbors probably isn’t a good idea either.

When a few moments pass without a response, I decide to try the knob. To my surprise, the handle turns and it opens. He leaves his door unlocked at night?

Pushing it open slowly, I call his name once more. But again, no answer.

When I step inside, I hear the crunch of something under my boot. My eyes cast downward in confusion. There’s water and glass on the floor.

Something isn’t right here.

My skin buzzes with panic as I scream his name. “Jensen!”

Barreling into his house, I notice the broken TV in the living room, and I worry for a moment that he was attacked or someone broke in. He’s nowhere to be seen downstairs, so I head for the stairs, calling his name with worry the entire time.

He has to be okay.

He’s just sleeping.

I run first for the door on the right, which appears to be a primary bedroom. The curtains are pulled closed, and the bed is unmade.

Then I run into the connected bathroom and stop in my tracks. He’s sitting on the floor, his back against the tub with his knees bent and his head hung between them. It reeks of vomit.

“Oh my god,” I shout as I launch myself toward him, putting myself between his legs and forcing his head up to look at me. He’s pale, like really pale. His face is sweat-soaked and his eyes dazed. It’s a sight I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life, burned into my memory like a scar.

“Jensen, what did you do? What’s wrong?” I cry in a panic.

His face contorts in anguish as he starts sobbing. “I…fucked up.”

“Baby, what are you talking about?” I ask as I look around him on the floor. My eyes stop on the orange pill bottle on the white tile floor. I breathe fast, the panic setting in.

“Did you take something? Did you…” My voice trails as I shuffle in my pockets for my phone.

Jensen continues to cry, his head hanging limply from his body. The next few minutes pass in a blur. With trembling fingers, I dial 911.

Jensen mumbles incoherently, and I can’t take my eyes off him as the lady on the line asks me so many questions I can’t answer. My entire body trembles and when he starts to daze out, I grab his shoulder and shake him violently.

I barely hear the woman on the phone, but when she says the ambulance is on the way, I drop my phone on the tile and hold his face. Tears are running down my face as I hold him close to me.

“I’m sorry,” he sobs against my shoulder. “I tried to…stop it…”

“It’s okay,” I cry. “Just stay with me. Please stay with me.”

“I can’t do this anymore,” he sobs. “It hurts too much, Isaac. It hurts. You have to let me go.”

“I’ll never let you go,” I say through quivering lips, stroking his face and looking into his lifeless eyes. “What did they do to you?”

He floats harrowingly in and out of lucidity as he stares forward without truly seeing me. It’s like his mind is already gone, and I shake with fear.

“I love you,” I whisper, trying to hold him to this moment.

Delicately, he repeats after me. “I love you.” There is no feeling in his voice. No heart. No Jensen.

Then he starts to cry again and my heart shatters. It breaks into a million shards of glass and leaves me as nothing but a hollow shell. He looks like he’s in agony, so much pain. I wish I could take it from him.

“Do you think God is mad at me?” he cries and if I had anything left in my chest, it would kill me to hear him say that, but I’ve shut off all of my feelings. It’s like my mind is protecting me from feeling the gravity of this moment. Letting the fear in would mean accepting what Jensen has done. It means grasping the severity of the damage they’ve caused. It would mean knowing just how bad he’s been hurting and never seeing the signs. Instead, I just hold him and whisper how much I love him.

I hold him until the ambulance comes. I keep him awake until the paramedics drag me away and tend to him.

I feel nothing. My face is tear-soaked and my heart is numb.

They usher me out of his room entirely. And everything happens in slow motion. I hear him retching and crying. I sob alone downstairs on his couch because none of this is fair. Nothing.

I’m alone, and I’m so fucking tired of being alone. So I pull out my phone and I call my brother.

Luke picks up on the first ring, probably alarmed by my calling so early in the morning. And in an emotional rush, I tell him everything. I manage to hold it all together until they bring Jensen downstairs on a stretcher. His eyes are closed and he has an oxygen mask on his face.

I just want to hold him. I want to tell him how much I love him and for no one to give us a hard time about that. Aren’t we allowed that much? In this day and age, I thought we were finally free, but we’re still not. It’s all an illusion.

“Where are you taking him?” I cry, and the paramedic gives me the directions.

Then they’re gone and I’m sitting alone in Jensen’s house, waiting for my brother.

“I’m coming, Isaac. Don’t move. I’m coming!” Luke shouts into the phone. I hear his car door slam in the background.

When he pulls up a few moments later, every ounce of composure I once had is gone. I break down as soon as his arms go around me. I don’t just cry; I wail. My voice is cracked and deafening as I scream into my brother’s shoulder. I cry for Jensen and for me. I cry in pain and anger. I let everything I’ve stowed away in the past eleven years come flooding out.

I don’t feel any better when it’s over because I won’t feel an ounce of relief until I know he’s okay. So, after shutting the door to his house, I rush out to the car with my brother. He drives me to the hospital in silence.

There’s not a single thought in my head. Not a song lyric. Not a memory.

When it feels truly quiet in my mind, I close my eyes. And I pray.

They won’t let me back to see him because, of course, I’m not his husband or his brother. They act like being his boyfriend means nothing. So Luke and I are stuck in the waiting room. I’ve had about two hours of sleep all night and I am wired and restless.

The hours tick by. I keep asking for an update, but they can’t provide one. If they could at least just tell me he’s going to be okay, then I could at least go home and try to relax.

No, I couldn’t. Who am I kidding?

Since the moment I met Jensen, there has been an invisible string between us, and the distance always felt like torture. Now, it’s unbearable.

Luke gets us coffee as he sits down next to me and whispers, “Don’t be mad at me.”

I turn my head in confusion. “What?”

“I made some calls.”

“To who? Local news stations. You told them where to find me, didn’t you?”

He rolls his eyes. “No. You’ll see.”

Five minutes later, Caleb strolls through the door. He looks panicked until his eyes meet mine. Then he’s running toward me, pulling me into a tight bear hug.

“Holy shit, Isaac. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m fine,” I say, but it’s a lie. Probably the most popular lie out of all of them.

“What can I get you? Are you hungry? Need some sleep?”

“What, are you gonna sleep for me? I wish you could.”

He doesn’t laugh at my joke. “I’m here for whatever you need.” He takes the seat opposite Luke, and we continue to wait together. No one says anything, and I realize how much I missed this.

Having brothers. Knowing they’ll be there for me whenever I need it. No matter how mad we get or how hard times are. When I call, they come.

It feels instantly more comfortable with them on either side of me. It certainly doesn’t solve any of my problems when it comes to Jensen, but it reminds me that no matter what happens, I won’t be alone.

Part of me wonders if I should feel bad for running away from this all those years ago, but if I’ve learned anything this year, it’s that I won’t regret a single decision I’ve made. It brought me success in my career. It brought me a person I love more than anyone.

I just need him to come out of this alive. The rest we can deal with. He needs time. He needs counseling or treatment. We’ll get it all. We can handle anything that life throws at us together.

I rest my head on Luke’s shoulder and drift off when the automatic doors open again. The bright light from outside shines through, so I almost don’t recognize the tall figure who rushes in.

But as he comes closer to me, my eyes focus until I’m staring at Adam. I freeze in place, as does he. He looks so much older than I remember. He has a dark beard. Longer hair. Weathered features.

Before I can even register what I’m doing, I launch out of my chair and cover the last few steps between us. Neither of us says a word as we collide. My arms wrap around him as he holds me, and the dam breaks again.

I cry silently into his shoulder, shuddering without a sound.

“I’m so sorry this is happening to you,” he mumbles next to my head.

“I’m sorry I left,” I cry. Because I am. Right now, realizing how much I missed my older brother, how much I needed him, I am sorry. I wish it hadn’t happened this way.

“Don’t be sorry. You did what you had to. I’m not mad at you.”

“Thank you for being here,” I reply with a hiccuping sob.

“I’ll always be there. No matter what. You just have to call.”

There’s nothing left to say, so we just hold each other for a little longer. Maybe it’s my exhaustion or what I’ve been through today, but my emotions feel wrung out and beat up.

When I pull away from the embrace and finally look at my brother, it feels like I’ve never left. He’s the same guy he always was, just a little older.

He ruffles my hair with a sad smile, and I try to paste a smirk on my face, but I don’t have one.

What I do have are my three brothers here on the worst day of my life.

I fall asleep on Luke’s shoulder for a while, but then I wake up after about an hour to the sound of Jensen’s name being spoken somewhere in the lobby. I peel my eyes open and watch as an older couple rush into the hospital with terror on their faces.

I lift my head and watch them as they wait for the nurse behind the counter to give them an update on their son. I can tell by the height of the man and the woman’s eyes that those are Jensen’s parents.

I rise from the chair and slowly approach them. There are a lot of things I’d like to say to these people. How could you put your kid in conversion trauma for ten years? How could you do that to your own child? That is why he is here. That is why he is in so much pain. What monsters would do that to their own flesh and blood?

But I see the fear on their faces. So, I don’t attack them—yet.

“Hi,” I say from behind them. The mother turns with a yelp. I can tell by the red lines around her eyes that she’s been crying. Then I watch as her gaze focuses on my face and she recognizes me.

“I’m…Isaac. I’m…”

“I know who you are,” the mother snaps while staring at me. She looks like she wants to say more, but her lip quivers and she turns away instead.

I look up at the man, but he doesn’t turn away from me. Instead, he gives me an expression of remorse.

“They won’t give me an update or let me back there with him.”

The man nods his head before resting a comforting hand on my shoulder. “We’ll get some answers.”

Jensen’s mother won’t turn back toward me. When the nurse comes out, we all look at her with eager hope.

“He’s stable, but he’s not in a room yet. You two can come back to see him briefly.”

My mouth opens to ask, but his dad beats me to it. “What about him?” he asks, pointing at me.

“Who are you?” she asks like I haven’t been sitting here in this waiting room for hours. If I wasn’t so exhausted and desperate, I’d be furious.

“I’m his boyfriend,” I say with my shoulders back.

She gives me an expression of pity. “I’m sorry. Family only.”

Every bone in my body freezes. Jensen’s mother scurries off with the nurse while his dad hangs back with me.

Suddenly, I feel my brother at my side. “This is bullshit,” Adam argues. “He was the one who found him. He’s the reason he’s still alive and you won’t let him back there because he’s not family?”

“Richard, come on,” the woman says to her husband, who is still looking at me with pity in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’ll see if I can pull some strings. You deserve to come back there, too.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, appreciating the compassion. “Just tell him…I’m here.”

“I will.”

Meanwhile, Adam slams a fist on the counter in outrage to get someone’s attention.

“This isn’t right. Family, my ass. That’s just a cover for their small-minded bigotry. I’ll have that nurse reported.”

I glance sideways at him and feel a smirk growing on my face. “Sit down, Karen. We can wait. They have to let us back there, eventually.”

“How can you just sit there while they discriminate against you?” he argues.

“Because getting kicked out of here isn’t going to get me back to see Jensen any sooner.”

He looks unsatisfied as he drops into a chair across from me. As the four of us carry on a casual conversation, I can’t get the look on Jensen’s mother’s face out of my head. I know that look very well. And I know the damage it can do.