When Mateo wrapped his arms around Tristan, he realized Tristan wasn’t just slack against him anymore...they were holding each other up. His eyes stung. His gut ached. Bile rose in his throat. And fuck if his heart wasn’t somehow matching Tristan’s beat.

Tristan didn’t move, kept his face in Mateo’s neck, breathing heavily, and despite everything, he realized he loved this man, too. That he wanted him with the same fierce need that he felt for Josiah. “You survived.” Mateo ran his hand through Tristan’s hair. Held his waist tightly with his other. “You survived, and you protected what was yours the best way you knew how.”

Then he lifted Tristan’s head and took his mouth. Slowly he eased into the kiss, letting his tongue try and soothe them. Pulling back, he let Tristan take over. Wondered if Tristan knew how each stroke of his tongue calmed Mateo.

When they ended the kiss, Tristan dropped his forehead to Mateo’s. “He’s the light to our dark.” And that was true. Josiah softened both their rough edges.

“He makes me want to shine, too.”

Tristan nodded as though he agreed with Mateo.

“I want you to come with us tomorrow. It wouldn’t be the same without you, just like...Just like we wouldn’t be the same without you. I’d be honored to have you there.”

Nothing in this world was completely black or white. Wrong or right. Or if it was, what mattered was whose eyes it was being seen from. He realized then they all saw things differently, and what mattered was how the people involved felt about it. He understood Tristan’s choice, but hated his own. Tristan somehow understood Mateo’s, but couldn’t stomach his own. Maybe they just needed to believe for each other.

“Yeah... I’d be honored to go.”

Chapter Twenty

Tristan

Josiah grabbed Tristan’s arm as they walked down the hall toward his mom’s apartment. Stupidly, it frustrated him that the touch soothed him. Josiah pulled Tristan’s fingers away from the wrist that he hadn’t realized he held, looking for the pulse point. Mateo lingered behind them, as though giving them a minute.

“It’s going to be okay,” Josiah whispered. He leaned against the wall, pulling Tristan so he boxed Josiah in. “I know you’ve never let anyone in like this, and I know it scares the hell out of you, but it’s just us. Everyone here tonight loves you.”

This is where he should say it back, but instead he leaned forward, resting his forehead against Josiah’s. “I know, but it’s not just that. It’s hard having other people see her like this. Having to bring the world to her because she will never venture into it.” And yes, the guilt that came along with that.

Before Josiah could reply, Tristan kissed him, pressing him tightly against the wall because this was so much easier than words. Because this was the only way he fully knew how to express himself.

When he pulled away, Josiah sucked in a deep breath as though Tristan had stolen it from him. Reaching for Mateo, Tristan wrapped his hand around the back of his neck. Mateo nodded, showing Tristan he knew what was in that simple touch. Thank you and let’s do this.

They finished the short walk to her apartment door and Tristan let them inside. His mom stood in the kitchen, wearing a dress he’d never seen, covered by an apron. She looked so damn normal. Looking at her now, there were no traces of the shadows she always had in her eyes. Of the sadness that showed in everything she did. Looking at her, you’d think she went out shopping for that new dress rather than having Isabel do it for her. How he wished that were true.

But then a truth she tried to hide did show in her eyes: shock. She hadn’t thought he would really come. That added another layer of guilt to those Tristan already carried.

“It’s so good to finally meet you.” Josiah broke the heavy silence in the room, stepping toward his mom.

He held out his hand, but Tristan’s mom pulled Josiah into a hug instead. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut as she embraced Josiah. His mom and the first man he’d ever loved. Fear climbed his spine, only settling with the feel of Mateo’s hand as he touched his lower back.

“I never thought...” she started to say but then didn’t finish, just held Josiah another moment before adding, “It’s so good to meet you, Josiah.” She placed her hand at the back of Josiah’s head the way she used to do with Tristan when he was a kid.

When they finally separated, Tristan put a hand on Mateo’s back and eased him forward. “This is Mateo.”

The corner of her eyes wrinkled and Tristan added, “Remember, I told you about him.” As much as he could, at least. They’d decided not to tell her who Mateo was to them. Well, Mateo had decided, and Josiah and Tristan finally accepted it. He didn’t like it, but he had to admit that it was probably for the best. How could he expect her to understand it when he hardly did?