Page 129 of Carter

Carter rolls his eyes. “You’re so cheesy sometimes.”

“I think that’s why you love me though.”

“One of many reasons.”

He kisses me, and of course I kiss him back, holding on to him even when he tries to pull away. But he rests his forehead against mine, staying close, and I think this is one of my favorite things that he does.

“I’m glad I moved in with you. I love being here.”

“I’m glad you’re here too.”

“What I’m really glad about, though—” He sits up and looks around. “Is how you’ve let me decorate the place.”

“I told you that stuff doesn’t matter to me.”

He gestures to the stuff around us. The paintings on the walls, and the decorative tables with fake plants—or maybe they’re real. I’m not sure. The long drapes that he said go with the hardwood floor. It doesn’t mean anything.

“Yeah, but—”

“You are what matters to me, Carter. You’re what makes this place home for me.”

His smile forms slowly and he leans in for another kiss. “If you’re trying to get me into your bed with nice words, it’s working.”

“I could just carry you in there,” I say playfully.

He laughs. I love the sound. It’s easily my favorite sound in the world.

Carter was unsure about moving in at first, worried what people would think. Which was a little odd for him, because he never cared much about that before. Or maybe he did but it wassomething overlooked. Really, though, it only took a day for me to convince him of it. He was spending most of his time here.

The conversation about money came up, because he was worried about contributing. He was worried that his half would be more than what he’s paying right now. I was speechless because why the hell would I make him pay half for all this stuff? That’s not how this works. He should know me better than that.

The bills were a bigger argument, though not really an argument, I guess. A disagreement. Heated conversation. Finally, he agreed not to pay anything, as long as his money went toward the house. Wasn’t sure how he was going to do that when I said I wasn’t taking his money for anything. That’s not why I want him here.

But he figured it out. Of course he did. Which is where all the new furniture, paintings, decorations, curtains, rugs, and everything else came from. It’s all very Carter, and for that reason, I love it too.

“If we didn’t have group, I’d let you,” he says.

“As if you could stop me anyway.”

Chuckling, he gets up from me. “I’ll make it up to you when we get home. Promise.”

I glance at the clock on the wall—one of those cat ones with the moving tail and eyes. The thing is actually a little creepy. I didn’t realize how late it was, and we really don’t have time for anything other than getting ready and driving into the city for group.

I go with Carter at least once a week. Work keeps me late sometimes, which is why I committed to just once a week. It was hard at first, just showing up. I didn’t talk for two months, and then one day, I just did. I opened my mouth and it all came out. Everyone listened. They made supportive comments. Now I usually only talk when I give advice, but I go becauseCarter wants me there and it’s nice to have people around who understand you in ways other people don’t.

Neither of us are healed. You don’t heal from grief. You just learn to live with it in different ways. Both of us still have bad days. Carter still has nightmares sometimes. He always reaches for me, and I’m always there. It’s exactly where I want to be.

I follow Carter into the bedroom so we can change. Both of us worked today and are still in those clothes, but we prefer to go to group in comfortable clothes. The weather is warm now, so we both put on shorts and t-shirts, him with his slides and me in sneakers.

“Have you talked to Hollis?” Carter asks as we head out the front door.

We’re planning a get-together with my brothers for next summer. The plan is for them to come here for a week, since I have the space for everyone to stay. So far, Jericho is on board with his boyfriend Miles, plus Miles’ sister and nephew. Hollis is… hesitant. Not because he doesn’t want to come, but because he doesn’t like making future plans.

He’s so worried that he’ll fuck up which will then fuck up the plans.

I talk to him more these days. At least once a week. He’s doing great. Has been since he left treatment a few months ago. Jericho and I talk more often. It’s almost a daily thing, just checking in and chatting.

Having this sort of relationship with them doesn’t feel as weird as I thought it would. I can be their brother in ways other than protecting them. That’s not all a brother is, and Carter is slowly helping me realize that. Part of me hates moving away from Jericho now that we’ve grown closer, but I remind myself it’s because I’m here that we’re like this. Maybe one day, all of us will live closer again.