Clouds and Rain

be home, and yes, the ulterior motive was that he hoped Gable would get better soon so they could start the rest of their lives.
    The head nurse at the ward where Gable had stayed had warned Flynn about this sort of behavior, though. It wasn‟t bad enough that Flynn felt guilty as hell for being part of the decision to sign the agreement for the operation; it was also just a matter of time before Gable would hold it against him, and maybe that time had come. Had he expected it to be easier? Had he underestimated the wall Gable had built around himself all those years? A wall that had only been reinforced by his injury and by what Grant had done to him? Flynn didn‟t know what to think. His resolve to stay was faltering. He couldn‟t leave yet, though. He‟d never forgive himself if he left Gable to fend for himself in the state he was in.
    Flynn just couldn‟t figure out the push and pull. One moment, Gable was loving and needy. They cuddled and were kind to each other, even if it didn‟t go further than that. They still hadn‟t really kissed since the night of their argument, at least not like lovers did, on the mouth. They‟d exchange the sort of kiss a parent gives a child—on the cheek, the temple, the hair—but it was always more caring than passionate. Flynn missed their lovers‟ kisses, but he was patient, hoping that one day when Gable felt stronger, they‟d kiss again. Right now, the tenderness they shared felt like enough.

    101

    Zahra Owens

    But what he couldn‟t understand was how Gable would always turn on him afterward. At the hospital, Gable would pretend to sleep, shutting himself off from Flynn, but he‟d never shouted at Flynn before.
    Feeling himself calm down a bit, Flynn sat down on the top step of the porch, where he used to sit before he and Gable had become intimate. He looked behind, toward the chair and footstool where Gable would always be then, but it was empty now. During the long days when Gable was struggling for his life in the hospital, Flynn would come back home in the middle of the night and sit on the porch for a few minutes, telling himself he‟d made the right decision. Seeing the empty chair always made his eyes well up. He couldn‟t lose another lover, that had been his motivation, and even now the thought of Gable dying, despite the fact he was well on the way to a complete recovery, gripped Flynn‟s heart. Splitting up was one thing, but he couldn‟t stand the thought that Gable could have died.
    What Flynn really wanted to do was walk back into the house, pick Gable up off the floor, and tell him exactly how much he loved him, but if he‟d learned one thing, it was that Gable felt stifled by the love he showed him. Calley had made it clear to him; Gable didn‟t know what it was like to be loved so much and he couldn‟t deal with it, so Flynn was going to have to continue doing what he was doing now.
    Showing Gable he loved him instead of telling him. Keeping his distance when he really wanted to be around Gable twenty-four-seven and the only way he knew how to do that was to take care of him, of his house and his ranch, and to cook and clean for him and make sure he had everything he needed. Christ, he sounded like a housewife. Was that what he was?
    Flynn got up quickly when he heard the floorboards creak, and he saw Gable appear on his crutches in the doorway. “Do you need anything?” Flynn asked. It wasn‟t until he saw Gable raise his eyebrows that he wiped his hand over his face and saw it come back quite wet. Flynn sniffed. “Sorry. Was thinking too much.”
    “Food‟s getting cold and that‟s a shame,” Gable replied. “It smelled really good when you were cooking it.” 102

    Clouds and Rain

    Flynn nodded and walked past Gable into the kitchen. He was sure he could salvage some of it so they‟d at least have a decent meal.
    Gable was slow to follow him, but Flynn tried hard not to help. It wasn‟t easy, but he managed to prevent himself from pulling Gable‟s chair back or keeping Bridget from running in front of him, and he barely looked at him.
    They ate in silence, only broken once by Gable, when he leaned back and pushed his plate further up the table. “That was a great meal, Flynn. I don‟t think food ever tasted this good.” Flynn nodded, silently acknowledging the compliment, and got up from the table to do the dishes. Bridget, as usual quite ladylike, sat next to him in the hope that some of the dinner scraps would make