Page 60 of Beneath the Indigo Sky

Jayce sighs as sadness and hurt envelop him. “I wish I could say the same thing, but I’m not all that surprised. I’m stunned that anyone resorted to actual violence, but I never expected to be accepted, not really. I figured a handful of people might learn to be okay with us, but I’ve known since I was a kid that I’m different enough that most people in a town like this would never treat me the same if they knew.”

My hand is still nestled between Jayce’s, and I squeeze his fingers tightly. “We have each other now. That’s enough, right?” I glance over at Ken. “All of us.”

Ken squeezes my shin as Jayce brings our hands to his lips and kisses my knuckles.

“Ya, beautiful. It is.”

The next few weeks feel like moments out of time, and everything blends together in a haze. It’s almost as if we’ve stepped outside of our reality and are simply existing as we wait for some sense of normalcy to return. Jayce puts up a sign saying that the shop is closed for an indefinite period of time, and he stays home to help care for me. I don’t actually need all that much help after the first few days, but I like having him around. While neither of us wants to dwell on what happened any more than necessary; we both feel the need to be close to one another most of the time. My ribs hurt every time I move, but it doesn’t take long for me to learn to accomplish basic tasks without twisting my torso too much, and like Ken, I’ve lucked out in the sense that it’s my non-dominant wrist that’s broken. While I’m perfectly content to have the man I love washing me with lingering, sensual touches while whispered words of adoration fall across my skin every time I shower, I’m grateful that I don’t have to experience the embarrassment of needing him to help with other…daily activities.

Jayce is cautious when he touches me, which is something my ribs appreciate, but there are times it feels like more than that. There are moments when it feels like hesitation and fear force him to hold back. When we curl up together at night, he clings to me as if he’s afraid I’ll be gone when he wakes up. But when our kisses become desperate and our hands stray across bare skin, he seems to temper the fire that I know burns through his veins in the same way it courses through mine. I want him to let go. I want him to touch and taste and overwhelm my senses until there is nothing but him. When we talk, he tells me that he’s fine, that he’s simply waiting for me to recover, but something has shifted between us, and it feels like a part of his soul has slipped back into darkness.

While Ken declines Jayce’s offer to stay in the guest room, he comes by for a few hours every night, and we have dinner as a family. We laugh and joke and try to keep the mood loving and light, but there is a shadow that hovers around the edge of our existence. Everything is the same, but at the same time, everything has changed. The calm, comfortable bubble that we’d woven around us at home and at Jayce’s shop no longer feels safe. There is a dim, grey film that seems to cover the world no matter how hard we try to scrub it away.

“I don’t want to reopen the shop.” Jayce’s voice is calm and quiet, but his words echo loudly around his small kitchen as our little family sits together at the dinner table.

I’m too stunned to speak, but after a long, silent moment, Ken recovers. “What would you do if you didn’t have the shop?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but even though it was only two people who attacked Namid, that was three weeks ago, and Shelly is the only person who’s called or come by to see how we’re doing. I don’t want to do work for anyone who can so easily ignore something like that happening in their own town.”

“You just want to give it all up? Everything you and Jordyn worked for?” I can’t believe it’s something we’re even talking about.

“I’ve been thinking a lot, and it’s not just that I don’t want to reopen the shop - I don’t want to stay in this town. I want a life with you, a real life. I want what we had in Seattle.” Jayce’s eyes flash with a ferocity I’ve never seen before.

He glances over at Ken as he continues. “You too, Ken. I think we should move, all of us, as a family.”

He reaches across the table and curls his trembling fingers around my hand. “We’ve all lost too much here. We don’t need to lose anything else.”

He leans closer, raising our hands and pressing a kiss to my palm. “I almost lost you, Namid. They almost took you from me. I won’t let them. I won’t let anything happen to you again. We could move to Seattle. We could have a new start, a new life. We could build a life together.”

“What about everything else: your house, Ken’s business? We can’t just…leave.” I’m struggling to process everything that’s happened, everything that he’s saying, but deep down, I’m excited by the idea.

“Yes, we can. Those things don’t matter. All that matters is that we’re safe and happy. All that matters is us. You’re my whole life, Namid.”

He feels so eager, so hopeful, and a shiver runs through me as his warm breath ghosts across my skin and his emotions wrap me in their embrace.

Can I say yes? Can I really let them give up their lives here?

Ken’s voice is hesitantly thoughtful when he finally speaks, breaking our long silence, and I can feel it as his emotions shift. He’s still concerned for me, still scared and upset over what happened, but excitement and hope are slowly starting to build in his soul as well.

“I think that’s a really good idea. I’m tired of loss, tired of death. I watch the two of you together, and I realize that I miss Kat. I mean, I always miss her, but I realize that it’s not just her that I miss. I miss having a partner. She was the great love of my life, and I don’t know that I’ll be lucky enough to find that type of love again, the type you two have for each other, but Seattle is a big city. Who knows, there might be someone out there for an old man like me.”

My gaze darts back and forth between them. They’re waiting for me to say yes. They want me to say yes.

I take a deep breath as my lips twitch into a smile. “Okay. Let’s build a new life.”

Epilogue

Namid

My life is different from anything I’ve ever imagined.

The past two years have been a whirlwind. Less than a month after I was attacked, Jayce, Ken, and I started to make plans to move away from our small town. Jayce reached out to Max at the gallery, and she connected us with a realtor. It had taken three months for me to fully recover, for Ken to find a buyer for the business, and for us to find the perfect home. When we saw the listing for six acres of land on the peninsula, half cleared for structures with a yard and a small pasture and half still covered with dense forest, we knew instantly. The main home is a three-bedroom, ranch-style house that we’ve furnished and repainted together. There are also two large shops, a shed, a chicken coup, and a small two-bedroom cabin scattered across the cleared acreage. Ken always paid me a salary, and he never charged me rent on the cabin, so with my small savings account and the sale of Ken’s and Jayce’s homes, the three of us had been able to buy the property outright without touching the money Jordyn had put away.

Our land is surrounded by a national forest, and there is a small, secluded strip of beach with fine grey sand and smooth dark rocks less than a mile away. Jayce and I walk there often, spending our time hand in hand, arguing over who can find the most interesting shell or rock or stick. Our home smells like the salt that rides across the ocean breeze and fir trees and grass and damp earth. The singing of birds and the chattering of squirrels and the shifting of pine boughs in the wind are the constant quiet background soundtrack as we go about our days.

We can’t see the Aurora from here, but the stars are bright and brilliant on crisp, clear nights. Jayce and I built a small deck in the middle of the property, and on warm nights, we curl up together under piles of blankets and sleep under the stars. I don’t often miss the swirling teal and gold and magenta skies that I’ve always known; with Jayce at my side, they ripple across my skin endlessly.

There are several small towns in a thirty-mile radius - seaside enclaves with tiny main street shops and bakeries that tourists flock to during the summer months. We’ve gotten to know the owners of small bookshops and bakeries and bars by name, and we walk along sidewalks and piers and park trails with interlaced fingers without a second thought. People smile at us as we pass by.

---