From This Day Forward

By Addison Albright

Published by JMS Books LLC

Visit jms-books.com for more information.

Copyright 2016 Addison Albright

ISBN 9781634861960

Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

All rights reserved.

WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published in the United States of America.

* * * *

From This Day Forward

By Addison Albright

Christine Granger answered the door, exclaimed, “Henry!” and enveloped me in a huge mama-bear hug. Then she burst into tears. I patted her back, and as much as I appreciated the sentiment, I hoped the whole afternoon wouldn’t be a chain reaction of this behavior. But considering Christine was the wife of my old department chairman, and I’d seen her only a handful of times each year, that was probably an optimistic expectation.

Sam held Buddy—or I should say Aiden. The almost-six-year-old had decided he wanted to use his “real” name after all. Although his upbringing thus far had been decidedly primitive, he was intelligent and quickly picked up on what would be considered typical behavior back here in civilized society. Apparently, he wanted to assimilate.

With their blond heads side by side, I could almost image Sam to be Aiden’s biological father, but of course, neither of us was. I looked nothing like either of them, sporting dark brown hair and brown eyes. Their coloring similarities ended with their hair. Sam had eyes the color of worn denim, and Aiden’s were a warm hazel. Like me, Aiden was over-tanned, having spent the past five years stranded on a South Pacific island, while Sam had been living in Seattle, completely oblivious to our plight.

Anyway, my husband held Aiden, and flashed a smirk in my direction that was probably meant to appear sympathetic, but was closer to demonstrating his enjoyment of my discomfort.

Christine pulled back, sniffing. “Henry, I still can’t get over it. I’m so glad you’re alive.”

I smiled. “That makes two of us.”

She emitted a short tittering sputter but wasn’t otherwise sidetracked. “Bill was so torn up with guilt for sending you on that trip. And seeing Sam so miserable just ate away at him. He felt like he’d personally ruined two lives.”

Sam’s eyes widened. Apparently, he hadn’t picked up on that. No shocker there, because one of the things that made Bill a great department chairman was that he was good at keeping his personal feelings out of decisions that needed to be made—or at least good at masking them. Poor Christine must have taken the brunt of his moods.

Sam spoke up to reassure her. “Nobody ever blamed Bill. I certainly didn’t. He had no way of knowing what would happen to that plane.”

Of course Bill hadn’t known. Nobody had. Obviously, none of the passengers or crew would have gone on that ill-fated flight had they known a terrorist had planted bombs, and that all but four would perish when the pilot was forced to ditch the plane in the ocean. As one of the fortunate survivors—fortunate despite spending five years left for dead and fighting for survival on a tiny island—I wouldn’t have willfully chosen that path for my life. Although I had to admit to being a bit torn on that, since Sam and I wouldn’t be adopting Aiden now if Aiden and I, together with our fellow survivors, hadn’t gone through that ordeal.

Christine ushered us through the house and out into the surprisingly sunny—for Seattle—early summer afternoon. Immediately Bill and a number of the other Biology department professors made a beeline to where Sam, Aiden, and I stood.

I hoped my gamble with humor would help Bill release the burden of guilt Christine had mentioned. As a collateral benefit, maybe it would defuse any potential repeats of the mini-scene upstairs.

I smiled at Bill, lifted my arms to the side, palms up, as if to imply a “what the fuck?” attitude, and blustered, “‘Go to Fiji,’ he said. ‘It’ll be great there in June. The dry season will be in full swing. It’ll be like a working vacation. You deserve a nice research trip like this after that stint in Greenland.’ Seriously, Bill?”

Bill chortled. He shook his head and blinked as if trying to keep the tears glistening in his eyes from falling. “I authorized six weeks, dammit, Miller-Greene, not five years. That’s just taking advantage of my good nature. I hope you understand I had to replace your lazy ass. I doubt you even collected any data on your extended holiday.”

I cracked up and several of my former colleagues moved in to pat me on the back. “Well, to be fair, I had a decided lack of instrumentation, or even a damned pencil or paper for the records.”

“Okay, okay. I might see fit to let you take on that night class you inquired about, seeing as there was a slight travel and communications mishap. I guess I can’t put all the blame on you.”

“I, for one, am rather grateful to have you take that class,” interjected my old friend and colleague, Dr. Randall Peltier, “since it was scheduled to be mine. And you know how much I don’t love teaching night classes.” Then he pulled me to his hulking frame for a rib-snapping hug. “You might as well get the hug gauntlet over with, Henry. You know it’s unavoidable.”

I knew it was, so I got passed around. They introduced me to a younger woman—the marine biologist who’d replaced me—and a number of advanced grad students.

I introduced Aiden, who uncharacteristically scowled. Sam still held him and gave him a little bounce, but if that was meant to reassure the child, it didn’t work. He clenched his little fists, and tensed his facial muscles.

“Buddy…er, Aiden? What’s wrong?” I lightly touched the side of his face. “Are you scared? Is this too overwhelming? Do you want Sam…er, Dad to take you inside for a while?”

He screwed up his face even tighter and harrumphed in reply. No, he wasn’t scared. He was mad as hell.

“Want to tell me about it?” I asked.

He punched one of his clenched fists in Bill’s general direction and squinted his eyes at the poor man. “My papa is not a ‘lazy ass’!” he hollered, punctuating this with an additional harrumph for good measure.

Oh, my. Bill’s expression was an interesting mix of chagrin and merriment, but he was quick to offer reassurance. “I’m so sorry, Aiden. I thought you’d understand that I was joking around with your papa. He laughed, remember? He knew I was just teasing.”

Aiden bit his lip and turned to me. His eyes reflected embarrassment.

I reached out to take him from Sam, and gave him a cuddle. I spoke softly. “I appreciate you wanting to jump to my defense like that, even if it didn’t end up being needed. I love you so, so much, and I’m glad you love me back enough to get upset when you think someone’s being mean to me.”

“I didn’t know he was joking you,” whispered Aiden.

“I know. It’s okay. Everyone understands your experiences have been limited, so sometimes you’ll make mistakes. Mistakes are okay. We just need to learn from them, right?”

Limited, indeed. If anybody ever looks askance at his behavior and asks, “Was he raised in a barn, or something?” I can truthfully reply, “No, he was raised on an island by three naked men.”

Aiden nodded and the tension in his small body relaxed. He peeked at Bill, and Bill cautiously reached across to offer a handshake. Yet another practice Aiden had not encountered with us on the island, but, fortunately, it was an intuitive gesture, so Aiden warily extended his own hand. “Sorry I was so mad at you, ’cause I don’t think you’re really a mean man, right?”

“Right!” Bill gently squeezed Aiden’s hand.

Aiden turned his attention to the far corner of the yard. “Are those your kids?”

Bill glanced over his shoulder at the group tossing around a few balls. “Mine are all grown up now, but those are the children of your dad’s coworkers. If it’s okay with your dad and papa, you’re welcome to go join them.”

Aiden peered up at me expectantly. “They’re playing catch. Devon showed me how to play that on the island, remember?”

I said, “Of course, go have fun,” and let him down. He was off like a shot, not a shy bone in his little body, running toward the pack of children.

Bill watched him run off. “Bet he keeps you on your toes.”

Sam replied, “That he does. Worth every minute, though.”

“I have no doubt.” Bill pulled me in for another hug, thumped me on the back a few times, then patted Sam on the shoulder. “You’ll have to excuse me now. I need to get back to the grill.”

The depth of feeling conveyed in the backward peek over his shoulder left me feeling guilty for the occasional grumbles I’d directed at the man when he’d made decisions for the department contrary to my wants.

“As I recall,” said Randall with a teasing tone, “you were never favorably disposed toward the idea of having children before this.”

I grinned widely. “I know. I was barely starting to come around to the idea before the crash, but it took me only a week of bonding with Aiden before I knew I’d miss him terribly when we were rescued. Of course, at that time, we were still expecting rescue to be imminent. I wasn’t thinking in terms of adopting him yet.”

Aiden had been approximately ten months old when the plane had gone down. He’d been thrust into my arms while I was escaping through a wing exit door as the plane quickly sank. He’d been orphaned, and we hadn’t even known his name.

“How’s that going—the adoption process?”

“Fine, I guess. First time and all, so I don’t know what to expect, but Sam had a lawyer on the case before I’d even made it to Hawaii.”

I smiled at my husband. Sam had really come through for me. He hadn’t even known at that time if we’d end up together—considering all we’d each gone through in the five years leading up to my rescue—but he hadn’t hesitated to jump in and initiate the custody paperwork.

“The birth family isn’t contesting, right? But they’ll get to visit with him?”

I wasn’t surprised that Randall knew so much about our personal business. I’d been forced to accept that the story of our rescue, and the five years on that island, had become the human interest story of the year. Nothing related to that drama—not even the facts Randall had just mentioned—were as private as they would otherwise have been.

Sam replied, “Yeah, that’s actually moving much faster than we’d expected.” We’d been back only a little more than two weeks, but it was such a high-profile case, everything was moving along swiftly. Space magically appeared on appointment calendars for attorneys, child psychologists, and physicians.

“Aiden, as you can see”—I gestured with my head toward the group of children, where he was in the thick of it, running and laughing—“isn’t exactly timid. We had a Skype appointment set up to meet his extended family just over a week ago. Once his initial fears about being taken away from me were eased, he started asking when he’d meet them in person.”

“So you’ve already done that? Met the fam’?”

I nodded. “Just a couple days after the Skype session. They called back the next day, all antsy to meet him, too, so we set it up.”

“That’s great,” said Randall. “You get along all right with them, then?”

Sam replied, “Yeah, they seem like good people.”

“Aiden’s bonded pretty well with his grandparents and really loved playing with his cousins.”

Aiden tore across the lawn toward us and ran up to Sam, panting. “Dad, what’s a ‘doofus’?”

Sam winced. “I’m afraid it’s an insult. Don’t worry about it. You’re not one.”

Damn it. I knew kids would be kids, and I knew Aiden was bound to be a target since he was completely unaware of the typical dynamic of children interacting with one another. I hated to see it, but on the overall scale of insults, at least “doofus” didn’t rate particularly high.

Randall squinted at the children in the distance. “It wasn’t Zachary who called you that, was it?”

Aiden shook his head. “That’s the kid with orange hair like yours, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” Randall grimaced a bit, probably at having his auburn hair described as “orange.” I stifled a snicker, apparently not particularly well, since Randall directed a mild side-eye smirk at me.

“No, nobody called me a doofus. Some girl called Zachary a doofus. He told me she was a doody-head, but he didn’t call her one, he just told me it.” Aiden turned back to Sam. “Also, what’s a doody-head?”

Was it wrong that I was relieved Aiden was directing these questions at Sam and not me? How do children somehow know which parent to go to for different issues? Sam handled it without losing any of his composure, as if it was the kind of question he was used to handling every day—although considering some of the students that went through the intro classes at the university, that might not be too far-fetched of a supposition.

“It’s essentially the same thing as doofus. Silly words kids say when they want to insult someone.”

“So it’s not nice, right?”

I said, “Right. You don’t want to call people names like that.”

“’Cause it’s mean?”

I nodded. “And you don’t want other kids to think you’re mean when you’re not.”

“That girl wasn’t mean most of the time, so I don’t think she’s really a mean girl. I know Zachary isn’t. He’s nice to me. Maybe he can come over to play sometime, and maybe sleep over like what I’m doing at Grandma Rosa and Grandpa Anton’s house tonight.”

I glanced at Randall. He nodded. I replied, “Sure, that’s fine.”

The smile on Aiden’s face was worth whatever work would be involved in making that happen. After spending the bulk of his life on a small island with only three grown men to keep him company; the boy was relishing his new experiences with children his own age.

Bill called out that the food on the charcoal grill was done, so everyone migrated to the serving tables, and I spent the next couple of hours fielding what felt like several hundred questions about our time on the island. Fellow survivor Devon had been making his way around the talk-show circuit and had given just enough information on a variety of stories to fuel my colleagues’ quest for knowledge.

I took a lot of good-natured ribbing since Devon had spilled the beans regarding a sea turtle’s nest we’d raided. Sea turtles are a protected species. Raiding their nests is—shall we say—frowned upon. Ironically, I’d been quite vocal in the past on that very subject. Karma, she’s a bitch.

* * * *

We left Bill’s picnic mid-afternoon to make the two-hour drive to Longview in time for a second picnic at Lake Sacajawea Park, where the bulk of Aiden’s extended birth family would be gathered to welcome him back into the fold.

“Are Grandma Ada and Grandpa Rolo going to be there, too?” asked Aiden. He was practically vibrating with excitement in the backseat as we neared our destination.

“They’ll be at the picnic,” I replied, “but they won’t spend the night with you. You’ll be sleeping at Grandma Rosa and Grandpa Anton’s house. Most of the people at the picnic won’t be part of the sleepover.”

“But some of the kids who are my cousins will sleep over with me, right?”

“Right.”

“And next time I visit them it’ll be to sleep over with Grandma Ada and Grandpa Rolo?

“Right.”

“And the picnic’s at a big, big park?”

“Really big, with grills, and picnic tables, and a playground.”

“Yay, ’cause I love playgrounds!”

I smiled, happy that Aiden was so cheerful and contented with such seemingly simple pleasures. Sam clasped my hand. I held on, savoring a simple pleasure of my own.

There was nothing quite like the experience of being stripped of everything you loved and enjoyed to put one’s life and what was truly important into perspective. Sam and Buddy—Aiden—were the only things that really mattered to me now. Everything else was just window dressing.

Rosa and Anton, Aiden’s paternal grandparents, broke away from the group and hurried toward the car as we pulled into a parking spot near the picnic grounds. Rolo and Ada weren’t too far behind. All wore wide grins as Aiden emerged from the car and hopped in place before skipping into his Grandma Rosa’s open arms.

“I got a new friend named Zachary. He has orange hair, but he’s not a doofus.” Aiden gave his grandmother a hug, then turned his head to me. “Right, Papa?”

“Right.” I gave him an encouraging grin.

“I’m sure he’s not, Buddy,” replied Rosa.

“Oh, I decided to be called ‘Aiden’ after all.” He accompanied his declaration with a sheepish grin.

She laughed and hugged him tighter. “I’m glad.”

While Aiden got passed around for hugs, Sam handed the small overnight bag to Rosa. “I think he’s got everything he might need in there.”

I said, “We’ll be close by, if anything comes up. Please don’t hesitate to call.”

“I won’t.” She winked. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure he’s happy and feels safe.”

I gave Aiden a final hug, and whispered, “I love you.”

He tightened his arms around my neck. “You’ll pick me up after lunch tomorrow, right?” he mumbled into my shoulder. “You and Dad?”

I pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You bet. We will always be here for you.”

His head came up from my shoulder, but his smile belied the battle between apprehension and anticipation evident in his eyes. He pecked my cheek and reached for Sam.

Sam held Aiden and murmured something in his ear. Aiden’s smile was genuine as Sam passed him to his Grandpa Anton.

Back in the car, I stared silently out the window as Sam pulled away from the park. It was foolish to feel so lost without Aiden—my little Buddy. It was going to be less than twenty-four hours, for goodness sake. Yet it would be the longest we’d been separated from each other in over five years.

Sam squeezed my thigh. “He’ll be fine. It’ll be good for him. It’ll help him prepare for going to school in the fall and being separated from you for a stretch of every day.”

I placed my hand over Sam’s. “I know. They all adore him, and he loves being around other kids.” I turned to Sam and smiled. “I feel a little guilty, actually.”

Sam glanced my way and quirked an eyebrow. “Guilty?”

I nodded. “You know how much he means to me, but I’m torn. I’m going to miss him and worry, even though I know it’s silly. But, at the same time, I’m looking forward to finally having some time completely alone with you at our little overnight hideaway.”

Sam’s grin—the one that always melted me, that I’d longed to see every day of my absence—appeared, and his cheeks pinked up. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. I wouldn’t trade having him in our daily lives for anything in the world, but we’re pretty lucky to have an arrangement like this, where we’ll have a break for a couple weekends every month.”

My breath expelled in relief. “I’m glad you said that. I couldn’t help thinking maybe I wasn’t such a great father after all, but if you feel the same way…”

Sam laughed. “When I was growing up, we’d all spend the night once each month with Mom’s sister and her family, then another weekend the cousins all came over to do the same with us. It never occurred to me before that it wasn’t being done for us kids, because we loved those sleepovers.

“Vacations were usually split, too. Something for the kids one week—often just camping, but occasionally something memorable like Disneyland—then the second week we’d be foisted on grandparents while they went somewhere on their own.”

“So it’s not unnatural to want a breather from ‘round-the-clock responsibility now and then.”

Sam turned the hand that rested on my thigh and grasped my hand. “I think it’ll be healthy for our relationship to occasionally have time alone together. We cherish our time with Aiden, but shouldn’t feel bad about wanting a little adult time, too.”

“What did you whisper to him to make him smile right before we left?”

“I just told him I loved him, and I loved you, and that I’d waited a long, long time to have a son, and I wasn’t ever giving him up.”

I gave his hand a squeeze and went back to gazing out the window, watching the trees go by as Sam guided the car down a winding road toward the cottage he’d rented for the night. I smiled when we turned into the drive, and I saw the little house. It was a peaceful setting, wooded, with landscaping including goat’s beard, yarrow, and pops of color from tiger lilies and red columbine.

“This will be nice,” I said. An understatement. It was the perfect place for Sam and I to finally be utterly alone, to be able to put aside all the worries that came with life in the real world and simply enjoy each other’s company.

Sam got out of the car to punch the code he’d been given into the keypad attached to the garage. We’d been assured the code was changed after each guest’s stay ended. That seemed as good a way as any for the owner of a secluded vacation rental cottage to handle things. Apparently a key to the door leading into the house could be found hidden inside the garage, as well.

We pulled in, found the key right where we’d been told, and entered the house. The listing had described the cottage as “picturesque, charming, tranquil, and quaint.” They hadn’t lied. Inside, the decorating was what I’d heard called “French country,” with blues and creams being the primary colors used alongside natural rustic wooden furniture.

I dropped our overnight bag inside the doorway to the bedroom. Sam placed the picnic basket and cooler containing our supper and breakfast on the small table, then opened the large window to let in fresh air and the calming sounds of the babbling brook that passed behind the small home.

Then he turned to me and opened his arms. I crossed the room, and he swept me into his embrace.

Unrestricted intimacy had been difficult in the few weeks since I’d been back in civilization. For the first week or so, Aiden hadn’t been comfortable sleeping in his own room and had shared our bed. Obviously there’d been no sex at all during that stretch of time.

But Aiden had been sleeping mostly on his own this past week. He’d joined us in the middle of the night a few times, but all in all, I considered his progress to be pretty good, considering he’d previously spent his whole life sleeping on a sand platform “bed” next to me and two other men.

So, sex had been limited to quiet encounters with the door firmly locked after double-checking to verify Aiden was fast asleep, at least for the moment. While neither of us was an outright “screamer,” noises would certainly escape if we weren’t pointedly censoring ourselves.

I didn’t consider the noise-self-suppression to be particularly detrimental to my enjoyment of our encounters, but our concerns about the racket the bed made once it got to rockin’ did have an unfortunate effect on the level of passion we injected into our lovemaking. Needless to say, we were looking into replacing it with a sturdier, solid bed frame.

Tonight we would have no inhibitions.

I burrowed my face into Sam’s neck and enjoyed the warmth and strength of his arms. We rocked together for a few moments, then I pulled away from his neck and angled up my face. He took the hint, and his mouth covered mine, softly teasing, his lips caressing, then adding firm pressure as his tongue skimmed my lips and tenderly pushed past. I reveled in the intoxicating mix of sensations—the salty taste of Sam’s skin, the coarse caress of unshaven skin brushing my cheek, and his natural fragrance. Forgotten for five long years, I was now hyper-aware of his intoxicating musk.

A lovely, barely perceptible tremor stirred beneath my hands as they progressed up Sam’s back, applying pressure, gently kneading. His hands cupped my face, and I hooked my arms to grip his shoulders from behind. Muscles flexed beneath my palms.

I moaned, sliding my tongue alongside Sam’s, then brought my hands to the front to work on the buttons of his shirt. My fingers teased and drew circles through his chest hairs as I worked my way down.

Sam’s hands dropped to the hemline of my pullover, and he slowly lifted it. He trailed his fingertips along my torso and lingered to trace around my nipples. I raised my arms, and he pulled the shirt over my head and tossed it aside. I placed my hands flat on his chest and tracked them outward to his shoulders, and took his shirt with me as I leisurely proceeded down his biceps. I paused to press the tightened muscles, then allowed the shirt to drop past his forearms to the floor.

My breath caught as I savored the moment. It was going to take far more than a week’s worth of intimate encounters to make up for five years without Sam…five years without sex…and most of all, five years without the feeling of love, security, and calm contentment elicited by the mere act of sleeping in my husband’s arms.

Sam grinned and took my hand to lead me to the bedroom. The room was bright and sunny, with two windows, and a gorgeous iron-framed bed. I moved to pull down the covers as Sam reached into the outside pocket of our suitcase for some supplies and tossed them onto the sheets. The bed squeaked raucously when I sat to remove my shoes and socks. There wasn’t going to be anything quiet about the test those springs were about to be put through.

I stood to unbuckle my belt and push down my summer shorts and lightweight briefs. Sam’s gaze fell well short of meeting my eyes when I straightened up. I stepped over to him and knelt to help him out of his sandals. His shorts and boxer briefs landed lightly on my hands.

I looked up and smiled. He raised his eyebrows inquiringly and perhaps a little hopefully before I trailed my fingers up his legs, and he stepped out of the fabric pooled around his ankles.

My tongue drew a line up his thigh. His legs quaked. “Please,” he whispered.

He didn’t specify what he was asking for, but I remembered what he liked. His legs separated, giving me room to nuzzle underneath his sac. His shiver tickled my nose. I lightly suckled at his perineum and the underside of his balls before moving up to give his swelling cock a good lick-down to get it—and my hand—nice and slick. Mission accomplished, I wrapped my hand around his cock and got busy again down under.

He whimpered. This was what drove Sam wild…licking, sucking, pressing with my tongue, delicate nipping, feathery tongue tickles…it didn’t matter so much what, it was the area that was his key erogenous zone. He’d never told me this…I’d figured it out. Sam generally topped, but he didn’t have a particularly dominant personality, and he didn’t like giving direction in bed. That wasn’t a problem for me. I preferred to bottom, but I topped from the bottom most of the time.

I knew it was wrong of me to wonder if Nash—Sam’s fiancé at the time of my “resurrection”—had figured out how sensitive Sam was in this area, and how much he loved to be nuzzled here. Perversely, I hoped he hadn’t, but at the same time felt guilty for that wish. I wanted this to be our special thing. Something Sam treasured me, and only me, for doing this for him.

Sam gently massaged the sides of my head. His moans grew louder, then his hands clutched my head and pulled me back.

“Gotta stop,” he panted. “If you wanna…”

He trailed off, but I knew, and I wanted. “Yes,” I replied.

I lay back on the bed, legs spread to make room for Sam. He crawled over me and leaned down to burrow, suck, and nip the side of my neck, below my ear.

“I’d forgotten how fucking good that was. You’re amazing,” he whispered.

Yes! Fuck it, I wasn’t going to feel bad about it, either. It was over now, so I was glad Nash had never figured out Sam’s particular kink.

I sighed as a smile split my face. I groaned, free to make as much noise as I wanted, and stretched to open and give him maximum access, and then began rutting up against him. The nape of my neck was my most sensitive zone—well, other than the obvious, ultimate target.

Sam sat up and leaned back. He picked up the lube and got me ready. His tenderness in handling me relaxed my whole body, and I melted into the soft bedding.

When he came back down to claim my mouth, I was so ready for him. I brought up my legs, inviting him home. We moaned into each other’s mouths as Sam filled me, then discarded all recent inclinations toward noise control as we rocked the bed with wild abandon.

* * * *

When I awoke, my legs were warmer than the rest of my body due to a sunbeam spreading across the bottom half of the double bed we’d shared. Sam no longer lay beside me, and I heard the soft thunk of a coffee mug landing on the table from the other room.

I closed my eyes again and pulled Sam’s pillow to my chest, breathing in the lingering scent. Last night had been perfect. Relaxed, uninhibited, and wanton, followed by a restful picnic supper by the creek, and the most peaceful night of sleep I’d had in a long, long, time. I rolled out of bed and hurried through my morning necessaries, then walked out to join him.

Sam’s face was tight as he glanced back and forth between his iPad, lying on the table, and his iPhone, which he held in his hands, furiously texting away.

Fuck, I was so tired of all the bullshit that came with being a pseudo-celebrity. It seemed as if nothing was our private business anymore. I assumed whatever Sam was dealing with was related to that—it usually was these days.

LGBTQI+ people regularly adopted children now, and individual cases didn’t become news unless there was something of particular interest—such as blatant discrimination—happening, and often the persons involved in the case wanted to make the situation public. I knew that none of the principals involved in our own custody case—Sam and I, Aiden’s grandparents, our respective legal representatives—were talking directly to the media, but of course information would be shared with extended family, and some friends. Ultimately there wasn’t much the media didn’t find out.

And so the homophobes all weighed in with their hateful opinions throughout the blogosphere. The pro-equality folks all blogged and wrote articles defending us. I was thoroughly sick of it all. Christ, our case wasn’t even contested. Everyone involved was cooperating and satisfied with the arrangement.

I walked to the coffee maker and poured myself a cup. I sat opposite Sam. “What is it now, and who are you texting?”

“Rob.” Ah. Our attorney for the custody case. As opposed to Carolyn, the attorney who was working to make me and Aiden legal citizens again, back from the long-ago-declared-dead.

“About?”

“Just a sec.”

I sipped my coffee, then reached for the Cheerios and the small milk carton we’d brought, and poured myself a bowl. I’d finished my last spoonful before Sam was done with his back and forth text-fest with Rob.

He placed the phone on the table, leaned back, and expelled a deep breath. “Okay. Basically this amounts to nothing.”

“More bigots making noise?”

“Yeah.” Sam closed his eyes for a moment and ran his hands through his hair. “I hate having to tell you about this, but it’s something you’ll have to know.”

That sounded ominous. “Just get it over with.”

“Here’s the thing. He’s nobody with any official standing. Just a self-important bigot pushing his agenda. But it was more…accusatory than usual, stating that the fact the four of you had slept in the nude together was evidence that you’d been…uh…sexually interfering with Aiden. Says he has some kind of ‘proof,’ and he’s got an attorney—from one of those right-wing outfits that are more fundraising fronts than legit legal representatives—to fight for custody himself.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I sat ramrod straight and slammed my spoon on the table.

“He’s got no chance in hell of succeeding—Rob was clear on that. It’s just unsworn, unverified statements, and he doesn’t even have any legal standing, for Christ’s sake.”

“Still, that’s libel, or slander or…defamation. Fuck, I don’t know, but it’s one of them!”

Sam put up a hand and nodded. “Libel—maybe. Rob’s on it. He’s got one of the partners who specializes more in that kind of thing looking into it, to shut this asshat down.”

“This is bullshit. Proven bullshit. First of all, everybody knows the nudity wasn’t by choice. Our clothes lasted only a couple years. What were we supposed to do, traumatize Aiden by separating him from us at night? Hell, we didn’t have the resources for that even if we’d wanted to. No, we handled it the best way we could, by treating nudity like it was no big deal…nothing to be ashamed of. Second, Aiden has been thoroughly checked over by a pediatrician.”

Sam again held up a hand. He knew all this, but I had to let off steam.

“Third, he’s been interviewed, privately by a child psychologist, as part of the custody process. There’s no doubt that non-leading questions meant to discover if there’d been anything like that going on were asked.”

So, no, the asshole on the Internet had no fucking proof, because all the proof was on the other side. Fucker.

Sam’s eyes conveyed his concern. “I know, Love,” he whispered.

I settled back in my chair and took a deep breath. I had to stop letting the homophobes get to me like that.

“What’s the difference, anyway?” I asked.

“Between…oh. Ah, they’re both forms of defamation. Libel is written, and slander is oral.”

“Maybe a lawsuit is in order for this one. Not just a warning. They’re not going to stop if there aren’t consequences.”

Sam nodded. “He crossed a line. Rob’s thinking the same thing. He’ll see what his colleague advises.”

“You know what? Let’s not let this crap ruin our weekend. Let the lawyers deal with it. God knows we pay them enough to do the worrying for us.”

“Thank you.” Sam sighed and stood. “I know it’s hard to ignore such a personal attack.”

I got up and moved into Sam’s arms. I rested my head on his shoulder and the tension drained from my body as we slowly shifted side to side. Poor Sam probably needed it more than I. Sure, much of the hate was targeted at me specifically, but Sam had taken it upon himself to be a buffer between me and the world. I loved him so much for it.

“I’ve never been very good with words,” he said, “and I really want to do this right. Timing kinda sucks now after that crap, but…well, I want it to be said here, before we leave.”

I tightened my hold around Sam’s waist, then traced my hands up his back to grip his shoulders from behind. “You always say the perfect thing. I don’t know why you don’t think you’re good with words.”

I felt Sam’s smile against the side of my face. “I love you.”

Case in point. I patted his back. “Come on, let’s walk out by the creek. Maybe the change of scene will help.”

* * * *

The mid-summer sun peeked through the surrounding trees and warmed my skin. The ceaseless burbling of the water over the rocks as it slowly made its way toward the ocean was soothing, but some tension remained in Sam’s bearing.

“Dad told me about something,” he said. “I hope you won’t think he betrayed your trust. He said you didn’t specify that you didn’t want it passed on, but still…”

“It’s fine. I can’t think of anything I’ve said to your dad that I wouldn’t want you to know.”

Some of the stiffness left Sam’s body. “He thought I should know, and I’m glad he told me, so I can make it right.”

I glanced up, and he looked me in the eye.

“Dad mentioned that I’d let it slip to you that I’m the one that proposed to Nash. He said you thought it meant something that you’d been the one to ask me to marry you, and you thought maybe I’d been wavering since I didn’t reply immediately.”

Oh. I’d proposed to him many years ago, but I remembered the moment as if it had happened just yesterday.

“I wasn’t wavering. Not for myself, anyway. The way you’d blurted it out, I’d wondered for a moment whether you’d talked yourself into a corner saying something you weren’t ready to say. I didn’t want to trap you.”

“I meant it. I just hadn’t meant to let it slip out like that.”

It’d been awkward. We’d been talking about everyday stuff, and I’d announced, “We should just get married already.” It had hung there in the air, with Sam staring at me before finally asking, “Was that…a proposal?” It had gone downhill from there.

“I know. I could see it in your eyes…how scared you looked that I might not say ‘yes.’ And I want you to know that I would’ve asked you. I’d been trying to work up the nerve.”

“Thank you for telling me.” When I’d learned that Sam had been the one to propose to his former fiancé, I’d misguidedly been concerned, thinking perhaps he’d be happier with the man he’d grown to love in my absence rather than with me. That, and hearing how Sam had had difficulty making his decision before seeing me again in person, had given me pause.

Sam’s hands cupped my face, and he lightly kissed me. Then he dropped to one knee and took my hands in his.

Holy shit. My heart melted as he looked up at me. The wind rustled through the trees, and the sounds of chirping birds became unnaturally loud as the blood drained from my face.

“Henry, I love you so very much. I fell in love with you almost as soon as we started dating. I’ve never stopped loving you, and I never will. Please, will you marry me…again? Renew our vows?”

My knees felt shaky, and a tear slipped down my cheek. “Yes. A million times yes.”

Sam’s grin reappeared, and he stood up to kiss away my tears.

* * * *

My spirits soared as we pulled into the driveway. I’d missed my little buddy.

Of course, Sam’s proposal contributed to my jubilant mood. I hadn’t actually doubted that he still loved me; nonetheless, his romantic gesture strengthened my self-confidence and warmed my heart.

Sam rang the doorbell, and we both stood grinning ear to ear in anticipation of seeing Aiden again and hearing his unique spin on the events of his time away from us.

Anton answered the door. I was surprised when Aiden wasn’t right there. My grin faded at the sight of Anton. His expression was dour as he ushered us inside, then through to the sitting room where Rosa waited.

“Is everything all right?” I asked. “Aiden’s okay?”

Rosa nodded. “Yes. Well, it looks like he’s starting a cold.”

“Ah.” I relaxed a bit. That wasn’t so bad. “Not unexpected. He’s been around quite a few people these past couple weeks and has no immunities built up since we had no exposure to viruses on the island.”

Rosa smiled. “That explains why he’s so confused about it. I told him it was a cold. He said it should be called a hot.”

“He’s got a fever?” I asked.

“Just a slight one and a sore throat from the drainage. I gave him some children’s acetaminophen…and popsicles.”

“Poor little guy. I hope he got to enjoy the picnic before the symptoms started.”

“Yes,” said Anton. “He woke up with it this morning.”

Anton and Rosa shared an uneasy glance, their faces tight and drawn. Anton cleared his throat and gestured toward the sofa. “Please sit down.”

Sam and I shared an apprehensive look of our own. Sam’s eyebrows raised slightly, and his leg bounced, telecasting his stress. We sat, as directed. Rosa was already seated in an armchair, and Anton remained standing.

Rosa spoke. “I imagine you two are aware of the…uh…blogs and articles being written about you…well…about all of us, really.”

I tensed. So it was about the accusations in this morning’s article.

Sam replied, “Hard to miss. Yes, we try to keep an eye on it, so we know what’s being said and can get a handle on it through our attorneys, if needed.”

How Sam managed to keep such a calm tone was a mystery to me. His leg stopped bouncing, and the hand he placed on my knee, applying light pressure, told me he knew how agitated my own emotions were.

Anton said, “We’re a little concerned.”

“You don’t seriously believe that fool, do you?” I fought to keep my volume under control, and Sam’s hand kept my body seated. Without it, I would’ve jumped up.

Anton and Rosa’s attorney had all of Aiden’s medical and psychological reports. Even if they hadn’t actually seen the reports themselves, they had to know the gist of the content. Hell, Devon and Garrett—our island-mates—had each been deposed for the record, and I knew damned well there wouldn’t be anything negative in their reports about me or how I’d handled Aiden.

Anton put up a hand. “No, no. Not at all. That’s not what I meant.”

Rosa said, “We’re worried about how all this will affect Aiden. Kids can be cruel. Will this drama fade away and be forgotten? Will it follow you—and him—around for years to come? Even if this particular person is shut down, the damage is done. The rumors will fly forever. Other kids will whisper about him. He’ll be hurt.”

“Look,” said Sam, “we can’t control other people’s behavior, only our own. Our attorney is looking into whether or not it’ll be a good case for a libel suit, and he’s assured us the man has no chance at all of succeeding if he is indeed attempting to fight for custody.”

Anton replied, “Yes, we’re not worried about that. But it won’t have any effect on what kids will say. As long as he’s living with you two, this will stay alive in the media. The anti-gay people will jump on every little thing either of you says or does and put their own spin on it. The kids will hear it, and they’ll taunt Aiden. Your adoption case isn’t just a general run-of-the-mill same-sex adoption. It’s continually in the news, and there are specific—albeit false—accusations. We all know that once mud is flung, some will stick in many people’s minds.”

Would Aiden be mercilessly picked on? Certainly, if he was living with either of his birth parents’ families it would be forgotten a whole lot sooner. The flames wouldn’t constantly be fanned the way they were now. Was I being selfish, holding on to him?

Wasn’t it essentially the same as what I’d gone through with Sam? I’d been willing to deal with the heartbreak of losing my husband, if I’d thought he’d be happier with Nash. Shouldn’t I be willing to do the same for Aiden?

A tear broke loose and trickled down my cheek. It would kill me to lose Aiden. I’d raised him for five of his almost six years of life. We’d been through so much together. I shuddered.

Sam moved his hand from its spot on my leg and brought his arms around my shoulders to pull me to his chest. “It’s going to be all right,” he whispered. Then in a normal speaking voice he added, “The only argument against same-sex couples adopting that has any bite to it is that the kid might be subjected to bullying because of it. But, it’s a circular argument, and the way to handle it is to work to counter the people spreading misinformation and ignorant lies, not to let them win.”

“Generally speaking,” said Rosa, “I agree with that. But as Anton said, nothing about this case flies under the radar. We don’t want to hurt you. We like and respect you both, and we know you both love Aiden and want what’s best for him, same as we do.”

“What’s best for him is to not be torn away from the only father he has any memory of having.” Sam used the tone of voice I’d heard him use on students. I’d always thought of it as his “Sorry, but I don’t offer extra credit” tone. Firm and suffering no argument.

But, what if Sam was wrong? Of course it would be heartless to just tear Aiden away. It was only fair that he be given the opportunity to make an informed decision. The child psychologist working with Aiden would factor all that in, wouldn’t she?

If we lost Aiden due to rumors flying around me, Sam would be crushed every bit as much as I. “I just told him I loved him, and I loved you, and that I’d waited a long, long time to have a son, and I wasn’t ever giving him up.”

Hell, the rumors went beyond just me, this time. This jerk had incorporated Devon and Garrett into his accusations. Had they seen it? I was going to have to give them a call. Hell, they might want to join me in the libel suit, if things got that far. Garrett was highly respected and Devon had become immensely popular, so that would likely strengthen the case.

I leaned back from Sam and took a deep breath. “The mental health professionals have already weighed in with their preliminary evaluation. Aiden will continue to have regular appointments with Dr. Cooper indefinitely…as long as he benefits from her support, he’ll have her.”

Rosa said, “Things have changed since that early report. Aiden has met his extended family. He’s comfortable with us.”

I replied, “Dr. Cooper knows all this. It’ll all be factored into her final assessment. And we’re doing everything we can to minimize his exposure to potential hate-talk. We’ve applied to Montessori schools for him—not only is it the best learning method to complement how he’s been raised so far, but the atmosphere and clients generally have a progressive bent.”

Sam added, “Part of the reason he’s relaxed with you now is because he no longer considers you a threat, trying to take him away from Henry.”

Anton sat in the remaining armchair. “Please don’t think that’s what we’re trying to do. We don’t plan to go back on our agreement. We’re not going to fight you for custody. We simply want all the information out there, and we want to make sure Aiden knows what he might be in for. What we told you in our first conversation still stands. Every one of us—grandparents, aunts, uncles—we’ve all said we’d be happy to have him live with us. That hasn’t changed.”

I nodded. “I agree that Aiden should make a fully informed decision, but we need to let Dr. Cooper handle it.”

Sam stiffened at my words, but after a pause, he nodded in agreement.

Anton and Rosa shared a glance, and Rosa said, “We’ll talk to our attorney and make sure our concerns are passed on to Dr. Cooper.”

Sam straightened, but the muted sound of little feet running across the carpeted floor stopped him from verbalizing whatever he’d been about to say.

Aiden skidded around the coffee table and leapt into my arms. He wrapped his hot little body around me and cried into my neck. “Papa, I missed you and Dad so so SO much. I had a scary dream where I was so hot and looked and looked for you but couldn’t find you, and I couldn’t find Dad, and I was scared-er and scared-er ’cause I just wanted to go home and find my Papa.”

I hugged him to me and murmured, “I’m here, Buddy.” I spoke into Aiden’s ear and rocked him gently, but my eyes locked with Rosa’s. “I will always be here for you.”

He sniffled, leaned back, and sneezed in my face. I blinked, but didn’t flinch. He didn’t know any better. Rosa handed me a tissue, and I petted the side of Aiden’s face and kissed his forehead. “I love you more than anything in the world.”

“More than Dad?”

Oops. “Tied with Dad.”

Aiden’s smile appeared through his tears. “I love you and Dad the most in the whole world, too. Always, always, no matter what mean people will say. I only want to live with you and Dad, forever and ever.”

He pursed his lips and harrumphed in the general direction of his grandparents. Had he been listening to our conversation?

Their eyes widened, but Rosa smiled ruefully. “I believe you, Aiden. We love you, too, and we want you to be the happiest little boy you can be.”

Anton and Rosa shared a glance, and a nod, and I knew they accepted—as I was also now confident—that Aiden was a strong-willed little boy who knew his own mind. He’d be able to handle the bullies he was bound to encounter, and he’d come out the other side unscathed. There was no doubt in my mind, when the question was put to him regarding with whom he wanted to live, what his answer would be. Barring any evidence of mistreatment—which didn’t exist—and considering Aiden’s age, the courts would base their decision on what the boy wanted. We’d already been told that.

Aiden turned to Sam. “Is this really a cold and not a hot? That’s so silly.”

Sam nodded. “It’s a misnomer, because people used to think you caught them by being exposed to cold weather. But that’s not true. You catch them by being exposed to another sick person.” I knew what Aiden’s next question would be before he uttered it.

“What’s a ‘misnomer’?”

“It’s when the word for something doesn’t make sense. Do you remember when you told me about the starfish you’d seen when you lived on the island? ‘Starfish’ is a misnomer. They aren’t fish, they’re invertebrates.” Seriously, Sam had to know that simple answer would lead to another question. I suspected he enjoyed fueling Aiden’s curiosity. With endless patience, Sam gave Aiden his full attention, which, come to think of it, was probably why Aiden went to him with his endless questions.

I passed Aiden to Sam, and while they continued their quiet repartee, I turned to Anton and Rosa. “Sam and I decided to renew our marriage vows. I hope you’ll join us for the ceremony and celebration.”

I wanted to make sure they knew there were no hard feelings. I understood their concerns, and there was no malice in their intentions. We were going to be dealing with one another for years to come, so it was important, for Aiden’s sake, that we find a way to all get along.

Rosa put her hand up to her heart and grinned. She looked relieved…and happy. “We’d be honored.”

Anton nodded. “Of course.”

* * * *

I clasped Sam’s hand with a ferocity that had him quirking a concerned eyebrow in my direction.

“Sorry.” I loosened my grip.

The guests wandering calmly through the orderly rows of folding chairs and floral displays in Sam’s parents’ backyard belied the organized chaos that had gone into the setup. It was a beautiful late-summer day, and the party tent canopies we’d rented, due to the likelihood of Seattle rain, were superfluous.

Life, like this sunny day, was fabulous. Aiden continued to thrive, and the adoption process proceeded without hitches. Our libel case had been settled out-of-court. Once the man had seen the wisdom of dropping his attempted claim on Aiden—he’d had no chance of winning, and would’ve been saddled with our attorney fees if he’d continued it—there’d been no point in pursuing maximum damages. He’d never have been able to pay it anyway. Garrett and Devon had agreed that we’d just needed to make the point to dissuade further challenges.

Sam looked handsome in his formal clothes. We sported the same tuxedos we’d worn on our original wedding day. Rather than renting, we’d purchased basic black tuxes in a standard style that we’d be able to use again for other formal occasions. Most of my clothing had been donated when Sam had thought I’d died, but our wedding gear was among the items of sentimental value Sam had stored away in the attic. They’d needed a trip to the cleaners, as well as adjustments—out a bit for Sam, and in a bit for me—but the end result was more than satisfactory.

Aiden fidgeted beside me. He held the long rainbow-patterned cloth ribbon he’d use to bind Sam and my hands together. It was no longer neatly folded, but was wadded between his palms.

Sam’s mother announced it was time, and everyone headed for the rows of chairs facing a lone microphone stand. It wasn’t a legal ceremony—we were already married—so we didn’t need a true certified officiant. What we had instead were special people from our lives who would make statements, then we’d prepared something to say to each other.

Sam’s large family was all represented. His parents, brother, sister, their spouses, and children. His aunts, uncles, and cousins. My family was missing. They’d been missing from my life since I’d come out of the closet, long ago. They’d batted away the olive branch I’d extended prior to our original wedding and had shown that their sentiments were unchanged after my rescue.

Bill, Randall, our other colleagues and their families were all here to support us. Aiden and I were especially thrilled that Garrett and Devon had readily accepted their personal invitations.

Summer was coming to an end, and Sam would soon be back teaching full-time at the university, and I’d be teaching a single night class. Aiden had been accepted at a top-notch Montessori school and looked forward to starting his formal education.

With everyone seated, Sam’s brother Simon approached the microphone, nodded to someone at the back, and Israel Kamakawiwo’ole’s fabulous version of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”—our cue to walk down the center aisle together—began. I looked up, and Sam touched my cheek with his free hand and lightly kissed me.

We separated to put Aiden between us. We each placed a hand on Aiden’s upper back, then walked slowly down the grassy lane toward Simon and stood beside him. Sam and I positioned ourselves side by side, with Aiden in front of us. When the song ended, Simon began his speech.

“This is Sam and Henry’s day, but it’s also an acknowledgement of love and respect to each of you, who through your interactions with my brother and his husband, have helped to make them the loving, caring people they are today. Each one of you is a vital page in the story of their lives, and they thank you for your contributions. Some of you were a part of their lives when they first met and fell in love. Some are recent additions. All of you are valued.

“When my brother first met Henry Miller, for more than ten months Sam admired him from afar, never suspecting that Henry was doing the same. Once they finally admitted their mutual attraction, the relationship progressed quickly, and the change we—Sam’s family—saw in Sam’s demeanor was nothing short of a miraculous transformation from a serious, studious, fairly shy man who occasionally dated and loved spending time with his family, to an enthusiastic and ecstatically happy, and more confident man.

“I’ll be honest. In the early days of the relationship, we were a little worried that it might not last, and that Sam would suffer a significant letdown. However, as we got to know Henry, and saw that he clearly felt the same way about Sam, our fears faded. Life was perfect for years. Until suddenly…it wasn’t.”

Sam’s arm lay against mine, our hands clasped together. A tremor rippled through him when Simon said those words. I wanted to take him in my arms, but settled for bringing his hand to my lips for a soft caress.

“Sam was utterly devastated when Henry disappeared. I won’t dwell on this dark time…I’ll simply say that it took Sam a long, long while to pull himself out of the depression he’d sunk into, just to get back to his old pre-Henry self. He’d moved beyond that in recent years, but once again there was a noticeable positive change in him when Henry came back into his life.

“I know I speak for my entire family when I say ‘Henry, we are so glad to have you back, and for goodness sake…don’t ever do that to us again!’”

My eyes widened at the strength of emphasis Simon put on his closing words.

“I’ll certainly try not to.” I’d long been known for speaking before I think, so I supposed it was only fitting that my re-wedding not be an exception. A titter of laughter rippled through the audience.

Simon stepped away and sat down. Garrett approached and introduced himself. I’d gotten used to our casual, no privacy—and ultimately nude—relationship on the island. It was strange seeing him once again, looking very much like the well-turned-out, dignified businessman I’d first noticed on the plane.

“We’d been on the island a week before Henry told us about Sam, but by the time we were rescued, I felt like I knew this man—whom I’d never met—almost as well as I knew my own family.

“We didn’t talk about our lives in the outside world a whole lot—we found it too painful to do so—but, over the course of five years, the knowledge built up, and it was obvious Henry loved and missed his husband terribly. More telling than his narratives, though, were the times he’d suddenly sit up in the middle of the night and whimper Sam’s name. He’d pause for a moment, then lay back down. I was never sure if he actually woke up and remembered those incidents or not.”

Not. I cocked an eyebrow at him, wondering if he was pulling my leg, but he hitched his head toward Devon, sitting in the audience. Devon executed an exaggerated nod while wearing his trademark smirk.

I grinned and mouthed, “Sorry.”

Devon rolled his eyes and smiled. I was pretty sure he knew I wasn’t really sorry.

Garrett continued, “Eventually, Henry shared his concerns with us. His conflicted emotions…fear that Sam would remarry, while at the same time actually wanting Sam to be happy out here in the world, even if that was the cost.

“I’ll never forget the look of sheer joy on Henry’s face when he finally learned that Sam had not remarried and was working to help him with Buddy’s custody paperwork.”

Garrett turned to Sam and me. “I wish you both, and Buddy—Aiden—all the happiness you each so richly deserve.”

Polite applause accompanied Garrett as he walked to his seat. Sam gave me a light peck, and the three of us stepped up to the microphone. Sam and I turned to face each other and held hands. Aiden grasped an end of the cloth ribbon and let the rest drop. He carefully wrapped the ribbon around and over our clasped hands. His pattern veered from the orderly method we’d practiced, and he bit his lip and glanced up at me, nervously.

I winked and whispered, “You’re doing great.”

He expelled a relieved breath and finished his task. I nodded to him, and he smiled, then turned and ran to sit next to Devon.

We’d agreed that Sam would speak first. “Henry, I like to think that I fell in love with you instantly, but I suppose if I’m honest, I’d have to say I fell in lust with you instantly.”

I laughed…at Sam’s blush and sheepish grin as much as at his words.

“I already admired you in many ways, but love itself came more as a slow burn once we started dating and sharing our personal thoughts…ourselves…with each other. We’ve been through a lot together, and we’ve been through a lot separately. We can’t erase the bad things that have happened in our past, but we can learn from them. I’m a stronger person, now, than I was when we first met. There’s no doubt you’re a survivor. Now I know that I’m one, too.”

Sam brought my hands to his lips and kissed the tops of each.

“Before I met you, I’d never been one to believe that there’s only one person out there who is some kind of perfect match for each of us. Even after falling head over heels in love with you, the logical side of me still questioned that philosophy, but if ever there was a challenge to that viewpoint, it’s shown in how I feel about you. My love for you is more intense than ever. My life goal, and the vow I make now, is to be the best husband to you, and the best father to Aiden, that I can be.”

That was my cue. It was my turn to make my vow to Sam. I smiled widely as I gazed into my husband’s eyes, and figuratively threw my prepared speech over my shoulder. “I love you so much, Sam. You’re right…we can learn from the past, and this is what I’ve learned: When I was on that plane, plummeting toward the ocean, I thought that was it…our goodbyes at the airport were going to be the last memory you’d have of me. While I was thankful that would be a perfectly sweet memory, I was still full of remorse for things I wished I’d handled differently in our life together, and things I’d left unsaid…that I wished I had one more chance to say, so you’d know how I really felt.

“My vow to you is that from this day forward, I will live each day in such a way that I will have no regrets. I won’t evade uncomfortable discussions, and I will be perfectly open and honest about everything. I trust you with my heart, and I trust you with my true self.”

I hoped that wasn’t inappropriately morbid, but it was from the heart. Truly the worst thing about knowing I was about to die had been the regrets. The apologies I’d wanted to make to Sam and the truths I’d wanted him to know. I’d pushed that memory to the back of my mind and it wasn’t until Sam had mentioned learning from our past actions that it had come flooding back, and I’d known it was what I had to say.

Sam’s eyes filled with unshed tears as a recording of George Harrison singing “Here Comes the Sun” began playing. He leaned down to whisper, “Same,” in my ear. His warm lips teased mine with a feathery kiss, and we turned to walk back down the aisle, our bound hands gripped between us.

It was short, it was simple, and it was just what we’d wanted. Sincere from-the-heart words shared between us, in front of our loved ones, and followed by good food, conversation, and casual fun.

Guests milled around, offering congratulations and migrating to the buffet tables. Aiden came running, zigzagging around friends and relatives before skidding to a breathless stop in front of Sam.

“Dad, Papa! Guess what? Devon says a doody-head isn’t the same thing as a doofus at all. Wanna know what he says it is?”

Sam turned to me with raised eyebrows. “Do I want to know?”

Devon wore a devious grin as he waved at us from the table he was sharing with Garrett, Anton, and Rosa.

I groaned. “Probably not, but I’m pretty sure resistance is futile.”

THE END

ABOUT ADDISON ALBRIGHT

Addison Albright lives in the middle of the USA with three peculiar cats. Her stories are gay (sometimes erotic) romance, and tend to be sweet man-love in contemporary settings. Her education includes a BS in Education with a major in Mathematics and a minor in Chemistry. Addison loves spending time with her family, reading, popcorn, boating, french fries, "open window weather," cats, math, and anything chocolate. She loves to read pretty much anything and everything, anytime and anywhere. For more information, visit addison-albright.blogspot.com.

ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC

JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!