Why won’t everyone just go away? Why do they insist on telling him everything is okay when it obviously isn’t? Why do they keep trying to hug him? There is only one set of arms he wants around him right now and that’s not possible.
Closing his eyes, Aaron tries to remember the feel of Robert holding him. Has it really been almost a week since his husband had pulled him in tight just as they were walking out the door of their home, kissed him long and hard and made him promise they would return as soon as humanly possible? Aaron had laughed and rolled his eyes. Reminded Robert they had all the time in the world. They lived together and worked together, it wouldn’t kill him to spend some time out with family.
Aaron almost chokes on a sob. Why had he been so glib about it? After everything they had been through he should consider every moment they have together damn near a miracle. They had survived more in the last few years than most people in their entire lifetime. They had wanted each other, loved each other, resented each other, loved each other again, hated each other or at least tried, tolerated each other, liked each other and somehow became best friends. Then they found their way back to loving each other, when they definitely shouldn’t have been able to. It shouldn’t work but somehow they made it.
A hand on Aaron’s shoulder draws him out of his thoughts. He looks up into his little sister’s tear streaked face. He knows she’s hurting. That he should try to comfort her, but he doesn’t know how. He doesn’t know how to pretend with her. She’s too smart for that. He could try to tell her they’ll get through this, but she’d know his words are just an empty promise. That he’s just as lost as she is. Robert’s been her family just as much as his. How would they work without him?