Ace had gone to so much effort to cheer me up and support me when I was going through a tough time adjusting to living on campus. I wanted to do the same for him.
And after the way Ace had confided in me, I felt more settled in our relationship. I wasn’t some kid brother; I was his partner, his support system. Maybe he’d told my brother all that before, maybe he hadn’t. But either way, he was telling me now. He was trusting me. And he was choosing me.
He’d come back here, dealt with people who wanted to tear him down instead of marvel at his accomplishments, and all because I’d asked him to be here with me.
I felt ashamed of all those times I resented him for staying away from home so long. It had never been about me. Even now, it wasn’t really about me. My needs, my wants. It was about him. The fact that I was part of his needs, his wants, still blew my mind.
But I didn’t doubt it anymore. I’d never doubt it again.
Ace Collins loved me.
Epilogue
Benji
You deserve all the coffee you want. I brewed a pot.
Your Secret Admirer
Smiling and rolling my eyes, I plucked the note from by bedside table and placed it in a keepsake box where I had dozens of other little “Secret Admirer” notes from Ace.
I was no slacker; he had plenty from me too. It was silly, but it was our way of showing love and appreciation for our relationship and never forgetting the fluttery excitement of falling in love.
The pillow beside me was indented but empty. Ace woke early to get to his office. I worked from home, our home, so I didn’t rise at 6:00 a.m. I would do a lot for love, but get up at the crack of dawn? Not one of them.
After I showered and dressed — I was meeting Tracy for lunch today — I poured a cup of caffeine, aka my personal crack, and inhaled it. Then I powered up my laptop and got to work.
Ace made good money as an engineer, and he’d told me that he wanted me to follow my muse wherever it led, mostly to webcomics and graphic novels I was developing. But I never wanted to put him in the position his parents had, feeling like a paycheck. I picked up freelance graphic and illustration work so that I could contribute to our expenses.
Over the last two years of college, I’d gradually built up a clientele and presence on a few key freelance job boards. And now, two years post-graduation, I brought in a respectable amount of money, even if it didn’t come close to Ace’s salary.
We split our costs fifty-fifty, which meant Ace was stockpiling money in savings, but that was okay. We didn’t need more than this cozy little one-bedroom cottage an hour between our college town and our hometown. We were close to family, but we’d established our own life apart from them.
Ace’s parents had accepted us as a couple, even though his mother always seemed more distant than my own, and we kept our visits short and not sweet, but not bitter, either. It was more than Ace had expected at one point. As stressful as it was, keeping the peace while also maintaining boundaries, I knew it was worth it for Ace to have some kind of relationship with them.
The McKenzies were a much larger part of our lives. We spent weekends with my parents over Thanksgiving or Christmas holidays. Jeremy had moved back home after his fellowship imploded when he and his supervisor were caught making out in the supply closet. He’d returned humbled and heartbroken but had found a job at a respectable firm and was doing much better.
I clocked a couple of hours on freelance work, then dove into an app I’d discovered that would let me digitally draw images and color them in. Time flew as I crafted a few panels I’d load up onto my Patreon account for a small loyal following, as well as some other sites on the web that charged for downloads.
This was not paying the bills, not even close, but I loved it.
When lunchtime rolled around, I headed out to the restaurant Tracy had suggested, a little deli called The Bread Basket. They made homemade bread and took sandwiches to a new level, no lie. These people were the real artists.
I walked in, scanning the assortment of mismatched tables and chairs spread out over the concrete of an old train station. Repurposing at its finest. And in the midst of it all stood Ace and my brother. Surprised, I walked over to them, greeting Ace with a quick kiss.
“What are you doing here?”
Ace shrugged. “Happy accident? Jeremy invited me to lunch.”
“Huh. All the way over here?”
Jeremy smiled nervously. “It’s not that long of a drive.”
“You can join us,” Ace added.
“Oh, I’m meeting Tracy, so…”
“Well, actually, Tracy is joining us,” Jeremy said.
I blinked. Glancing at Ace, I could tell he didn’t know what was up either. I was picturing all kinds of weird things. Ace popping the question to me, even though we’d talked and both agreed we didn’t need the formality of marriage to be committed to one another.
Besides, we had a house deed. Way more binding than a marriage certificate.
Or maybe Jeremy had some sort of intervention in mind? Maybe he’d cooked something up with Tracy, who’d changed majors and had gone into a graduate research program much more suited to her color-coded notes, to get us to move back home or … spend more time with family … or I don’t know what else. It didn’t make any sense.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Hey, guys,” Tracy piped up. She hugged me, smacked a kiss to Ace’s cheek, and then stepped up beside Jeremy. “We have some news.”
I looked between them, then noticed their laced hands.
“You’re kidding me.”
“What?” Jeremy said with a grin. “You think you’re the only brother who can fall in love with someone’s best friend?”
Ace laughed. “Wow, I’m happy for you guys.”
“Jeremy was always so competitive,” I joked. “Of course he had to get me back for taking his friend.”
“Hey, at least I didn’t hide it.”
“Psh. If you’re already in love, you definitely did hide it. How long has this been going on?!”
“A while,” Jeremy said vaguely.
Shaking my head, still trying to picture Jeremy and Tracy together, I had to admit it felt strange to be in his shoes. But it was so great seeing Jeremy happy again.
“But, seriously,” I repeated. “When? How? What? Where?”
Jeremy smirked. “Try not to have an aneurism.”
Oh, yeah, he was enjoying turning the tables on me. Tracy smiled faintly at him as if he was the cutest thing in the room. Gag.
“He picked me up that time my car broke down while you were out of town, remember?” she prompted. “You gave me his number, and we started texting.” She shrugged. “You know how it goes.”
“That was six months ago!” I turned to swat Jeremy’s arm. “You hypocrite. You were all worked up about me and Ace—”
“Not that worked up,” he muttered. “Besides, this just makes us even.”
“Oh my fucking God. I can’t even!”
Tracy and Ace looked at each other, and at the same time as if they’d rehearsed it, they said, “Brothers.”
Ace slung an arm around me, tucking me into his side as we followed Jeremy and Tracy to place an order. “Look at it this way. It’s not all bad. Maybe we can have couples vacations together. Maybe even a joint honeymoon.”