Page 9 of Capturing Perfection

“That must have been scary. How did the police react?"

"Clay came. I guess they called him? He's a detective in Southie. I never asked how he found out. The cops were okay. Nobody hassled me or got aggressive. The shop owner was pissed as hell."

"I'm glad to hear the situation didn't escalate. PTSD is common in survivors of trauma, but symptoms vary, and everyone struggles to get a handle on their disorder in different ways. So when you say you don't feel normal, I would advise that ‘normal’ is a relative term. Has your best friend been supportive as you’ve transitioned back to being a civilian?”

“We live together.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

Had Clay been supportive? The man had dropped everything with a phone call from one of Logan’s platoon members, driven to Georgia to pick him up and brought him home with nothing more demanding than a hug. Clay had let Logan infiltrate his home. He’d financially supported Logan for three months without question, with hardly more than a handful of stunted conversations between them. Clay was the best of them. The stronger one. The one who’d had the guts to be honest about his sexuality all those years ago. While Logan had freaked out, run away and joined the frickin’ Army rather than admit to having the same desires. It wasn’t Clay’s fault that Logan had these feelings, and yet, Logan’s actions for the past months had inadvertently been punishing Clay. All Clay had wanted was for him to be healthy and happy. All Logan wanted was Clay.

Matt waved his hand to get Logan's attention.“Are you living with Clay because you want to or because you need to?”

This was one of the hardest questions Logan had ever been asked. Was he ready to talk about the complexities of his and Clay’s relationship? He’d only known this man for forty-five minutes. Could Logan trust him with one of his deepest secrets? He took a deep breath and reminded himself this was why he was here. Well, one of the reasons.

“I live with Clay because I want toandI need to.”

He looked up at Matt, then back down at the screen. Nothing appeared, and Matt just watched him. The silence stretched. Unable to look the man in the eyes, he turned to gaze at the wall of books. He cataloged the different colors of the spines in his mind.

After several seconds, he opened his mouth and closed it several times. Up to that point he hadn't watched the screen when he talked, but now Logan looked down and watched thewords appear on the screen, needing the separation from Matt's too knowing gaze and validation that what he was about to say was accurate.“Clay and I have always been inseparable. Well, we were until I messed up sixteen years ago. We were twenty when Clay came out to me. I panicked. Finished my exams for the semester, moved out of our apartment and enlisted in the Army in the space of one day. I had to get as far away from him as I couldas fastas I could.”

“Why? Do you not approve of his lifestyle?”

He shook his head vehemently. “That’s not it. Clay being gay doesn’t matter to me. No, that’s not right. It does matter. It matters too much.”

Matt waited until Logan met his gaze. He spoke very distinctly and very slowly. “Why does it matter too much, Logan?”

"Because I’m gay, too, and I’m in love with the man I turned my back on when he needed me most."

Chapter Five

Clay shut down his computer in his office and bolted from the station when the clock signaled the end of his shift. He prayed no one would call him with some fresh case that night. Today was Logan’s first session with the psychiatrist. Clay didn’t know who Logan had picked. He wanted that decision to be Logan’s and Logan’s alone. Logan had been right. This part of his recovery had to be done for and by himself. Clay would provide whatever support Logan needed, but he would try not to interrogate him about the therapy.

He was sure today would be especially hard for Logan, since it marked the first time he would open the metaphorical can of worms. Clay wanted to have dinner waiting and give Logan an evening where he didn’t have to think. Clay would take care of him, and if Logan wanted to talk, great, but he wouldn’t push.

He pulled up the food ordering app that supported local restaurants and selected his and Logan's favorite menu items.With a few taps, he placed the dinner order. Clay's pickup time wasn't for another thirty minutes.

"Damn, should have put the order in sooner."

"Are you talking to yourself again, Phillips?"

Clay looked across the desk at his partner. "Maybe. It's not really a problem unless I hear a voice talk back, right?"

"Hell, I'd probably still keep you on as a partner. Maybe with two of you, we'd close more cases."

Tim Grant made it his life's mission to take as many offenders off the street as possible. He'd been on the force for over a decade. For six years he served as a training officer, mentoring the next generation of cops, then two years ago took the detective exam. Clay considered himself fortunate to have been assigned a partner with legendary street skills and investigative intuition.

"How are things going at home?"

After Logan's flashback incident, Clay had spent a fair bit of time talking to Tim about Logan's struggles. The man had lost his brother to mental health struggles after service, so he could listen with an empathic ear and counsel from a place of understanding. Clay hadn't told Tim everything about his and Logan's past, but he'd given enough high-level details that his partner knew the basics.

Clay wiggled his hand back and forth. "Better? I think. Logan has his first appointment with the psychiatrist today. I was just putting in our dinner order, so when I get home we can just decompress and not have to worry about making dinner or doing dishes."

"That's good. Have you given any more thought to talking to someone yourself?"

Clay shrugged. "I'm fine."

Tim raised his eyebrow.

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