On a Roll by Beth Bolden (best historical biographies TXT) 📕

thought about why Gabriel would have a new name for his truck and hold on to it and not use it—when it was the one thing standing in their way.

But he’d done it because it was the one thing that held them together, when otherwise they might have drifted apart.

It was impossible to forget what Gabriel had said. He’d told Sean that he’d loved him, and he’d said I think I might have loved you for a long time. Long before I even knew what this was.

Maybe Gabriel wasn’t alone.

Maybe he’d had these . . . Sean guessed they were feelings, because why else would he feel like his heart was beating out of his chest when they even looked at each other? Why else would he feel like he’d die if he didn’t get his hands on him right away? And it was the only explanation for why he’d stood there, pained and shocked, when Gabriel had told him he loved him.

If they weren’t feelings, there was no fucking way he’d still feel that same sick feeling days later. A week later.

He’d come to terms with the fact that it wasn’t going to go away.

But he hadn’t come to terms with the fact that he could have fallen in love again.

Five minutes later, he was still staring into the ocean, wishing that his brain, so cooperative only a few minutes earlier, would allow him to accept this.

Except, he realized, watching the crash of the waves, it wasn’t his brain at all, was it? It was his heart.

That was when he heard it—the sound of steps, the crush of the moss and the twigs breaking under their weight.

He knew he wasn’t the only person who came here. Later, long after he’d said yes to Milo’s proposal, he’d joked about how he’d been terrified not that Sean would reject him—but that someone would interrupt them.

Turning, Sean saw the last person he’d expected to find.

Not Milo, but another pair of kind dark eyes that were intensely familiar.

“Sean!” Lacy exclaimed with surprise. “I’d heard you were in town—Tara stopped and told me the other day, but I hadn’t realized you’d . . .” She took a deep breath as she walked closer to him, her hands shoved deep in her bright pink parka’s pockets. “I hadn’t realized you’d come here. But of course you would.”

Maybe Milo wasn’t looking over this place, but someone else was. Someone who was still living and breathing and was more than capable of offering any judgment that Sean deserved.

The very first thing he had to do was apologize.

He hadn’t known she was here, at the beach house, but of course he could’ve called her and let her know. She’d have come for him, to see him again. After all, it was the first time he’d been back in Oregon since he’d left.

They emailed sometimes. The occasional text message or phone call. He kept in touch, because the man he’d loved had loved her, and because, over time, he’d discovered that he loved her too.

That particular realization had not hit until the aftermath of Milo’s death.

It seemed he was doomed to make these mistakes over and over again. Clueless until confronted, like a two-by-four to the side of the head, about what was actually true.

“I’m so sorry,” he said in a rush, walking up to meet her, to wrap her up in a long hug. “I should’ve told you I was coming.”

She tugged him down towards the log.

“It’s fine, Sean,” she said reassuringly. “Please don’t worry about it. Though, honestly, hearing you were around, it made me think about Milo. And every time I do, I come here.”

He was fairly certain that she couldn’t know that this was the log he and Milo had been sitting on when he proposed. But he sat down anyway, because it wasn’t like he hadn’t already tried sitting on it, desperately trying to bring her son back to life.

And worst of all, not even because he still mourned him as desperately as he had after his death, but because he wanted Milo’s permission to love someone else.

“I’m surprised you took the time away from your truck during such a busy season,” Lacy said, still gripping his hand. It was cold, and hers was warm, but it was more than that.

“I . . .” It should have been harder to decide to confess everything he’d been hiding. But the truth was, he’d come here looking for answers, and maybe Milo hadn’t magically appeared, and there hadn’t been any signs, but maybe this was what he’d been waiting for. “I came because I needed to,” he admitted.

Lacy’s eyes softened further. He could see more lines around them, and on her forehead, than she’d had at their wedding, than she’d had when they’d first met, so many years earlier. Losing your only son would probably cause more than a few extra wrinkles.

“I’m sorry you aren’t doing better,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I thought you were . . .”

“I was,” Sean said with a resigned sigh. “I really was. But . . . I don’t know how else to tell you this, but I think I’m . . . I think I’m moving on.”

Tears appeared in the corner of Lacy’s eyes, her gaze still undeniably sympathetic. “Darling,” she said, “did you think that you wouldn’t?”

He’d known that he would, someday. He’d been a young man on the day Milo died. Nobody would ever fault him for eventually finding someone else to love, even himself. But he hadn’t expected that it would be so soon. Or that it would feel so effortless.

So different.

Because that was his issue, wasn’t it? He felt totally different about Gabriel than he’d felt about Milo.

Maybe, like Shaw said, love was different. But what if what he shared with Gabriel was stronger or sexier or better than it had been with Milo?

He wasn’t sure how he could ever forgive himself for that.

“I . . . I didn’t expect to now. I didn’t expect