The way they’re leaning together, it’s impossible to tell which of them has trouble balancing; who’s the steadying presence, and who needs help.
Lawson’s legs work fine, but they both do need steadying, even if it’s not of the same sort.
Tommy thought, at first, that their rings, and their vows, and their hands laced together in front of a hospital chapel altar would banish all doubts, all guilt. That each of them would be sure of the other’s commitment and love and willingness to stay and stick out the rough spots. Seven months, but most especially the past few weeks, have taught him that’s not the case. The rings, vows, and interlaced hands were a big and vital step toward the rest of their lives…but they’ve both been in recovery that whole time: from heartache, for one, and from almost dying, in Tommy’s case; in Lawson’s case, he supposes it’s a recovery from whatever future he envisioned when he thought Tommy wouldn’t pull through.
There’s not a cure for recovery. Only the slow, day in and day out work of nonlinear progress. And love. Love carries more than its fair share of weight.
“Do you wanna go in?” Tommy asks, and realizes Lawson is studying their reflection, too, expression heartbreakingly tender.
“Yeah.” His voice is a little uneven, but Tommy doesn’t comment on it; strokes his arm, instead. “Yeah, let’s go in.”
It's here! The College Town follow-up novella, A Cure for Recovery, went live for Kindle yesterday, and is now available across the board this morning.
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