The Air He Breathes

I shrugged. “Not running. Just moving on. Things come and go; you should know that better than anyone.”

He brushed his fingers against his gray beard. “But that’s not what you’re doing. You’re not moving on, you’re running again.”

“You don’t understand. Her husband—”

“Is not her.”

“Mr. Henson…”

“My former love adored magic. He spent our whole life together trying to get me to support his dream of opening a tarot shop in this town. He believed in the power of energy, in the healing power of crystals. He believed magic had a way to make life more livable. I thought he was insane. I worked a nine to five job and hardly paid any attention to him. I called his dreams of owning his own shop ridiculous. We were already two gay men—life was already hard enough for us. The last thing we needed to be was two gay men who believed in magic.

“And then one day, he left. At first it seemed so out of nowhere, but as time went on, I realized it had been all my own doing. I hadn’t valued him when I’d had him, so when I lost him, it hit me hard. After he left, I felt so alone; I realized he had probably always felt that way. No one should feel alone when they are in love. I quit my job and tried to make his dream of magic come to life. I studied the power of crystals and the healing herbs. I worked hard to understand his dreams, and by the time I did, it was too late. He had moved on to someone who loved him in the moment.

“Don’t turn away from Liz because of something she didn’t have anything to do with. Don’t walk away from a chance at happiness because of an accident. Because at the end of the day, it’s not about the tarot cards, or the crystals, or the special teas. That’s not where the magic lives. The magic is in the tiny moments. The small touches, the gentle smiles, the quiet laughs. The magic is about living for today and allowing yourself to breathe and be happy. My dear boy, to love is the magic.”

I chewed on my bottom lip, taking in all of his words, all of his thoughts. I wanted to believe him, and I thought a big part of me truly did understand his words. But another part of me, buried deep inside my soul, felt the guilt. Jamie deserved more. For me to even consider loving someone else after such a short period of time was selfish. “I don’t know how to do it. I don’t truly know how to truly love Lizzie seeing how I never said goodbye to my past.”

“You’re going back to say goodbye?”

“I think I’m going back to learn to breathe again.”

Mr. Henson frowned, but said he understood. “If you ever need a place to rest your head and a friend to call on, I’ll be here.”

“Good,” I said, pulling him into a hug. “And if you ever sell your shop to some asshole, I’ll be back here to fight it tooth and nail.”

He snickered. “Deal.”

I opened the front door, listening to the bell rang overhead for the last time. “You’ll watch after them? Emma and Lizzie?”

“I’ll make sure their tea and cocoa is never too hot.”

After we said goodbye, I headed out of the shop, jumped into my car, and started driving with Zeus. We drove for hours. I wasn’t certain where I was going, or if I even had a place to go, but mindless driving made sense to me right then.

I pulled up to the house after three in the morning, and their porch light was still on. As a kid, I’d stayed out past curfew way too often and had made life a living hell for them. Despite that, Mom always kept the porch light on to let me know that they were still waiting for me to arrive back home.

“What do you say, boy? You say we go in?” I asked Zeus, who was curled up in the passenger seat of the car, wagging his tail. “Okay. Let’s go in.”

Once I stood on the porch, I knocked a total of five times before I heard the door unlock. Dad and Mom stood there in their pajamas staring at me, almost as if they were seeing a ghost. I cleared my throat. “Look, I know I’ve been a shit son this past year. I know I disappeared and didn’t say a word. I know I’ve been lost and wandering around in my mind trying to find my way. I know I said some terrible things before I left, blaming you for what happened. But I…” My hand brushed over my mouth before I stuffed my hands into my jeans pockets. I started kicking around the invisible rocks on the ground. “I was just wondering if I could stay here for a while. Because, I’m still lost. I’m still wandering. But I don’t think I can do it alone anymore. I just need…um…I just need my mom and dad for a while, if that’s okay.”

They stepped onto the porch, wrapping their arms around me.

Home.

They welcomed me home.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Elizabeth

“What do you mean he left?” I asked Mr. Henson. My hands gripped the railing of the countertop in his shop as he stood making me a cup of tea on Friday afternoon. I’d just dropped Emma off at her grandparents’ house for their sleepover, and seeing how I hadn’t seen or heard from Tristan in a few days, I was at my breaking point. I needed to talk to him, or at least know that he was okay.

“He left two days ago. I’m sorry, Liz.” Mr. Henson’s bubbly personality was gone, which scared me.

“When will he be back?”

Silence.

My hands landed against my hips and I tapped my shoe against the wooden floor. “Well, where did he go?”

“I don’t know, Liz.”

I chuckled, nerves and worry building inside of me. “He won’t answer my calls.” My jaw shook as tears formed in my eyes. My shoulders rose and fell. “He won’t answer my calls.”