Page 62 of Resilience on Canvas

His eyes snapped to meet Henry’s, and Henry’s cheeks turned pink. How could Henry keep this from him?!

Robert’s wave of nausea began to recede, and his hurt left fury in its wake.

“Movin’?” Robert rasped out, the swell of upset nearly strangling the word in his throat.

Subtly, Henry shook his head, his eyes pleading with Robert not to press him right now. With a huff, Robert relented, falling back against the sofa cushion, though he couldn’t wipe the scowl from his face. His eyes found the floor, and his breathing changed, his inhales coming in fast and shallow as his eyes filled with tears. California! Holy hell.

Robert could feel Henry’s father’s eyes on him, scrutinizing his reaction. But he couldn’t bring himself to care. Let Mr. Charles Sherwood see him and Henry for what they were. The Sherwoodswould be in California soon. And Robert would be left here to rot in this hellhole. He’d be left behind to suffocate from one of them black blizzards. Or maybe even from the sweet nothings he wouldn’t never say to Henry now, the words that would sit heavy in his chest and press on his mutilated lungs until they stopped working. Good God, Henry was leaving him behind in Oklahoma.

Robert’s face burned as he recalled his conversation with Clara.Me and Henry.Why had he let himself think such things?

Clara and Henry’s mother walked out of the room, urging the children to follow.

Once they had gone, Robert let himself finally look up to meet Henry’s eyes, which were wide and sad and pleading. Robert could have sworn he saw regret in them, but that was probably wishful thinking. Because Henry had to have known that his family was leaving. But the son of a bitch had kept it a secret. He had held hands with Robert in a manner that Robert thought had promised forever. But it hadn’t even promised honesty.

Henry’s father looked back and forth between the two of them, his head swiveling from Henry to Robert and back a few times, and then his eyes widened the slightest bit, his eyebrows rising up in tandem. Robert wondered then whether the man was realizing that the reason Henry hadn’t wanted to marry Clara might not have been whatever excuse he’d provided to his folks, but something else instead.

“Henry,” his father said, his tone stern. “I need to speak with you.”

“Uhm, yeah, sure,” Henry said, rubbing the back of his neck.

When a pang of sympathy struck Robert in the chest, he scowled and tore his eyes away, fixing them on the coffee table while Henry and his father stepped out into the hall.

Robert heard every word of the conversation that followed.

“What’s this thing with Robert?”

“What thing with Robert?”

“Why are you and Robert looking at each other like that?”

“He’s my friend. I never told him that we were leavin’, that’s all.”There was a pause.“Or, uhm, that you and mom were leavin’, I mean.”

“Excuse me?!”

“I, uhm, I thought I might stay here. With Robert. You know, to help him and his family?”

Robert’s stomach fluttered. Henry wanted to stay in Guymon?

Quietly, Henry added,“Or maybe we could bring them with us?”

Robert’s breath caught, his stomach fluttering once more. Henry wanted to take him to California?

“Is that why you think you need that money?”

“Yes?”

Robert’s lips curled into a small smile, both because Henry speaking like that—with his voice hitching up—would never not be endearing and because, Jesus Christ, Henry wasn’t leaving him behind.

“Henry...”His father let out a long, exasperated sigh.“What is this? You’ve only been friends with Robert for a few weeks.”

“Yeah, I know, but he’s... important to me. Or, uhm, I mean our friendship is important to me.”

Seconds ticked by, each of them more damning than the last.

“Jesus Christ,”his father finally said.“If it’s not one thing with you, it’s another.”

“Sorry,”Henry whispered.“I’m sorry.”

---