JFT #40/Absolution
JFT #40
Absolution
I've never been a particularly religious man. So I never learned how to
pray properly. Perhaps it was all that humility that one is expected to
feel. Or maybe it was simply all those years of being told that God hated
people like me.
After all, I couldn't believe in God if He didn't believe in me.
But the thought of losing Arthur was enough to make me rethink my
position. I lay in bed, my teeth clenched as hard as I could manage, and
struggled to remember a prayer, any prayer, but all that came to mind was
"Give us this day our daily bread."
A bubble of hysterical laughter forced its way past my lips and I thought,
rather apropos of nothing, He saved me. Unfortunately, being the
ungrateful wretch that I am, I don't think I meant *God*.
It was *Arthur*.
He believed in me when I stopped believing in anything at all. He knew
what I needed before I did. And he tried to give me what I wanted. Even
when I was so bloody wrong, it nearly killed both of us.
"Jack..."
He was here.
If God could hear an imperfect prayer like mine, maybe it was time I
started believing in Him again.
*****
"Are you all right?" he whispered.
He looked like he hadn't slept in months, but he was worried about *me*.
That was devotion, and quite possibly, obsession. But I couldn't bring
myself to chastize him. Not for caring too much. Not for putting me first.
I think I said something, but I can't remember what. He leaned forward in
what seemed like slow motion and pressed his mouth to the corner of my
eye. A tear trickled down the side of my face and he followed it down with
the tip of his tongue.
Was I crying? I squeezed my eyes shut and more tears joined the first one.
I suppose I was.
"You're going to be okay." He was comforting me? When he sounded as if the
life was being choked out of him?
"I'm not going to die." There. I said it, admitted it, owned the words,
and for the first time in several hours, believed them.
"No," he agreed.
"Are you..." I took a shaky breath and tried to look him straight in the
eye. But it was hard. I expected condemnation, not forgiveness, but there
was nothing but love shining out of that familiar face. "Are you going to
stay?"
"Did you really think you could chase me away so easy, Jack? I'm on to
you, y'know," he said softly. His kindness made my eyes fill with tears
again, and I cursed my weakness.
But he laughed, and it was a gentle laugh, a laugh that said, I know
you're not perfect, and I'm glad, it makes you more like me. "Push over."
"I-I don't think they'll approve of you climbing into bed with me," I said
tentatively, and I thought, my God, I've never been tentative in my entire
life.
"I don't care."
"Arthur!" I gasped. Right before his lips covered mine. I kissed him back,
and this time, our faces were close enough that I could see the sheen of
tears in his dark eyes.
"You keep calling me by my name, you're going to spoil me, Jack," he
whispered. "I'm starting to think you really know who I am."
"Oh, my love, I always knew who you were."
He kissed me again, and I felt a bit lightheaded. "You're making me
dizzy," I chuckled.
But a few moments later, Arthur was fumbling to replace the tubing he'd
accidentally dislodged. "Sorry. I didn't mean to--"
I sighed. "If I could do one thing, it would be to eliminate the word
'sorry' from your vocabulary."
"Sorry."
That made us both laugh. Which, I think, was as much of a relief to Arthur
as it was to me.
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
"Now perhaps you can get some rest." The nurse swept into the room, and I
feared that she would send him away. But she merely adjusted the oxygen
tubing and smiled. "You will look after him, won't you?" she asked Arthur.
He wriggled closer to me, if that was even possible, and I wrapped my arms
around him. This was better than any medication in the world.
Much. Better.
*****