Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 3

still been working themselves up for an actual beating. Mike had been the only one not holding back. At least nothing was broken.
    Except maybe Ethan.
    Jude figured he must be in shock. He'd spoken maybe a dozen words all day, and had barely looked at him. It'd probably taken a lot out of him to face down the same situation he'd burdened himself with years of guilt over. But he'd done it, and Jude was grateful beyond words.
    He wanted to help, to bring a smile back to Ethan's face. He just didn't know how.
    Ethan, who'd fallen asleep soon after Jude took over driving, woke as they exited the highway. "We'll be at my place in about ten minutes," Jude told him. "Then we can finally get some real rest."
    "Sure." Ethan straightened in the seat, and turned away to stare out the side window.
    Jude frowned. "Did you want to talk about anything?"
    "No."
    He almost pushed the issue, but thought maybe they should both sleep first. "Okay," he said. "We can talk in the morning."
    Ethan didn't so much as nod in response.
    A strained silence hung over them until Jude pulled into his driveway and parked next to Ethan's car. He cut the engine and waited, hoping Ethan would say something. When he didn't, Jude said, "I don't know about you, but I need a shower. You want to go first?"
    Ethan closed his eyes. "Jude...I'm going home."
    "Now? It's midnight, man. You've got a forty-five minute drive."
    "I know."
    "Come on. Don't be stubborn." He forced himself to stay calm. This was about more than shock. "You can crash on the couch. Leave first thing in the morning, if you want."
    "I can't. I have to go." Without looking at him, Ethan reached out and opened the passenger door.
    Jude grabbed his wrist. "Ethan. Don't do this."
    For a moment Ethan sat there, rigid and unblinking. A muscle twitched along his jaw. Then he pulled his hand away and turned blank features to Jude. "I have to."
    "That's it, then?" Fury surged through him, and he let it drive away the pain. He'd known he would lose Ethan. But he hadn't wanted it to end like this. "So long, thanks for the fuck. Right?"
    Ethan flinched like he'd been slapped. "I guess so," he said, almost too soft to hear. He stayed in place for another instant, looking on the verge of saying something else. Instead, he slid silently out of the truck and closed the door—with a gentle click that felt more final than the hardest slam.
    If Ethan had gutted him with a dull knife, it wouldn't have hurt as much as that small sound of surrender.
    CHAPTER 6
    Two miserable weeks. To Ethan, they'd felt like years. Jude hadn't contacted him at all since the aborted trip, not even a text or an email. And as usual, he'd been too afraid to do anything himself.
    For the first few days, he'd hoped they would still be friends. But as time passed and hope faded, he decided that maybe it was better they weren't. It was painful enough living with the knowledge of what he couldn't have. Being around Jude would only hurt more.
    That had been why he left Jude's place the night they got back. One more night with him would've been devastating. Instead of driving home, he'd have probably driven himself full-speed into the nearest concrete wall.
    "Well, son? What's the final damage?"
    Ethan shook himself and tried to focus on the present. He was in the middle of a consultation with Mr. Anderson, one of the handful of local clients he worked with. The Anderson home, in which he was currently seated with his laptop at the dining room table, was one of several mini-mansions on Church Street at the heart of town. Apparently, Mrs. Anderson had been happy with Ethan's work in their living room, and now wanted the kitchen redesigned.
    He forced a smile. "Give me just a minute here," he said, and plugged the rest of the figures into the program—the one Jude and his team had developed for him. He hadn't let Jude give him a discount, and the custom virtual design software had been worth every penny. Now that he could work with anyone, anywhere, he didn't have to rely strictly on the local yokels to keep him in business.
    "There we go." Ethan leaned back to let Mr. Anderson see the itemized invoice, which came to just under five thousand dollars. Mrs. Anderson wanted a lot of kitchen.
    Mr. Anderson whistled. "That's a pretty penny."
    "Most of it's for the new appliances." Ethan wanted to shove the stupid, trite saying down the man's throat. "We can always get refurbished, if you want to lower the price."
    "It's fine, son. The missus