Page 80 of Shades of Henry
But for another, this, Lance trusting him with the pain, the uncertainty, the purging—this was the thing Henry had never been given with Mal. This was a part of Lance’s heart that nobody else would get to see—or even, as far as Henry could tell—would appreciate. Henry would stand up on their table and shout, “I’m gay, motherfuckers!” if it would help Lance not hurt himself.
If it would help the two of them be okay.
Lance’s breathing finally grew even, and he let go, grabbing some more napkins to clean up his face—and Henry’s. After a quiet moment, he turned back to their food and snagged another mushroom.
“I’ll make the appointments tonight online,” he said. “One for me, one for Randy. See if we can start a trend.”
Henry kissed his cheek. “Good.”
They ate then, side by side, enjoying the quiet and the coolness of the falling evening.
Lance took a final bite of vegetable and breathed out. “I love you too,” he said. “I love you a lot.”
“Wasn’t too soon?” Henry asked quietly.
“Apparently not.” Lance closed his eyes as though just appreciating the evening. “Apparently it was exactly the right time.”
“That’s a first.”
Lance laughed a little. “Maybe it’s the start of something awesome. We can only wait and see.”
They didn’t have sex that night, which should have been a terrible disappointment. But what happened instead was quieter and more magical.
When everyone had gone to bed, they ended up on the couch, talking quietly.
They made plans.
An apartment, when Henry could help with the rent. Some furniture. A PI’s license for Henry, a fellowship for Lance after this year of residency. A house in a couple of years. Did they want kids? Maybe. Lance liked them. Would Lance want to meet David and Henry’s oldest brother if he came to town? Of course. Would Lance introduce Henry to his sister the next time they had lunch? He was dying to. What would Henry do if he didn’t like PI work? A law degree? Possibly—possibly not. So many things to do, so many places to go. Vacations neither of them had ever taken, but wanted to take together.
Henry sat back against the corner of the couch, his arms around Lance’s shoulders, thinking about the future in a way he never had before.
That sense he’d had when he’d arrived in Sacramento, that his entire life was over? That feeling was a bad memory.
The letdown at the end of the case had faded, and what was left was a building thrill of what his life could become.
Somehow, in the past few months, the future had gone from a wasteland of loneliness to an exciting, living thing, something that he could change, something that he’d already changed. Yeah, he had a past—and Malachi still loomed large, a shadow Henry might never truly escape, only learn to live with. There was a reckoning there, and Henry knew it. But even that felt less awful, less full of shame, less covered in guilt and remorse.
Henry had so much more to do now.
The future wasexciting.
He had control over his future in a way he never had before.
And it all started with the man in his arms.
Hungry
“SO, DR.Galahad Luna—”
“People call me Lance.” Lance gave the psychiatrist—Dr. Stevenson—a brief, professional smile.
“It says here you’re a resident at UC Davis. What are you doing here at Kaiser?”
Lance grimaced. “You’re actually on my health insurance from my other job, and since I was taking a friend here from that job anyway….” He held out his hands so Stevenson could make the obvious connection.
“What’s your other jo—oh.”
Stevenson’s balding head came up from the file he was scanning, and he looked at Lance again in mild surprise. “John Carey Industries. Wow. Okay, so, eating disorder. Is thatallwe’ve got going? Just making sure.”
