Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 2

they noticed a flaw I had overlooked, something that changed it from perfect to unacceptable? I had no idea what they were suddenly conferring about behind the walls, but my heart was fluttering impatiently in my throat, as though trying to warn me of something just over the horizon.
    A strange glow at the doorway caught my eye. Like something out of a dream, I saw their faces first, lit yellow and strangely shadowed. Then my eyes traveled down to see the candles, a half-dozen of them at least, brightly lit and wavering as they were carried forward. Bryan and Marcus were bringing in a cake. My brain went numb and stuttering. It wasn't my birthday, it wasn't anything. Had I missed one of theirs? But Marcus was a November baby, and Bryan was born on Christmas Day—
    And then I saw the writing. In bright blue script on a bed of chocolate frosting:
    ~Thank You
    and
    Welcome Home~
    Now my heart was drumming, sinking back down into my chest, and my ribs ached. These two. These two dumbasses. What was I supposed to do with this? With them? They were killing me, day by day, kindness by small kindness. And now, including me on their welcome-home cake, like I was coming home too, when they both knew I was just about to leave forever?
    "Make a wish," Bryan said.
    I shook my head. "You're the ones who should make a wish."
    "We have," Marcus said. "Now it's your turn."
    I stared at him. The candle flames were reflecting in his eyes, a dozen bright pinpricks, and he looked like something made of heat and light. A star in his own right. "I'll make a deal with you." God, my voice was shaking and I couldn't stop it. "I'll blow out half the candles, you two do the rest. I'll take the thank you, you take the welcome home."
    It was an okay recovery, I thought. Fair. Even-minded, gracious without being overbearing.
    And then Marcus had to go and say, "It's your home, too."
    I stepped back. The candles flickered dangerously in the air stirred by my movement. Marcus frowned, brows lowering over his glittering eyes.
    "It's a place I've been living," I told him. "It's not my house and it's sure as hell not my home."
    The smiles faded from Marcus' and Bryan's faces in near-perfect unison. They were even synchronized in their disappointment. A pang of longing, verging on anger, dropped deep into my gut.
    "But that's what we're telling you," Bryan said. "You can stay here. Unless you have another job lined up, another place already?"
    I shook my head. He knew I didn't. I'd been looking, but only half-heartedly. I didn't want to accept that I'd have to leave this place.
    But I did. I had to. "I can't."
    "You can." Marcus set down the cake and walked over, putting a warm hand on my arm. "Stay. We'd love to have you."
    "I can't," I said again, wrenching myself away. My arm throbbed where he'd touched it. How could he do this to me? Didn't he know that every time he looked into my eyes like that all I wanted to do was to grab him by the shoulders, pull his body to mine? And then cross the room to where Bryan was standing, shell-shocked, and do the same to him? "Stop asking me, because I can't."
    "Why not?" Bryan came forward, his voice aching with the plea. "Tony, what's going on that's making you act like this?"
    I might as well just say it, I thought to myself. Better to force it, to bring the finality down like a hammer and erase all this kindness that was crushing me slowly with the weight of false hopes.
    "It's you," I said. Or heard myself say, because I was suddenly looking down at myself, watching this nightmare unfold. "Both of you. I watch you guys, I watch how much you love each other, and I want that. The way you talk. The way you... you touch. I want it, and I can't have it. That's why I have to leave."
    Silence. Bryan's eyes had widened. Marcus had clenched a fist.
    "Good," I said. My brow was tightening in a dour scowl. "Bet it'll be a lot easier to let me move out now."
    "Tony," Bryan said softly. "You can have it."
    I glared at him. "You don't get what I'm saying. I'm not saying I want something like what you two have. I'm saying I want what you two have." I swallowed hard. "I want you . Both of you. And I can't have you, so just let me move the hell out and be miserable somewhere else so you two can go on with your—"
    The last word was muffled against the force of Bryan's mouth.
    I drew back, automatically, dizzied. "What the hell—"
    There it was again, his lips, touching mine, a kiss I'd dreamed of, fantasized about, and