Chapter Twelve

WAYLAN

Waylan smiled, while Channon sat in stunned silence. “He first showed hutti instincts when he was four, but Tabitha feared he may never show signs of a kalou half.”

Channon’s eyes roved the ground as though searching for reason.

Waylan had never known of another half-breed, though he’d never risk Eli’s safety by speaking about that to others. “May I continue?” he asked, waiting for Channon’s nod. “With a child on the way, which the elders would never let live, we had no time to waste. Within a week, we departed to the doorway to discover the Meskli and three elders waiting.”

Channon gasped, but Waylan smiled at the memory, far less painful with sixteen years distance.

“The elders of Elijah’s village had summoned the Meskli to collect the captured shevoo. When the Meskli arrived only to learn of Elijah’s death, he naturally wanted answers,” Waylan explained, wishing he could go back in time. He’d make different decisions with hindsight, but then, he supposed they all would. Would Tabitha wait to express her feelings for Elijah until they were safely gone away? Would Elijah have risked his life for Waylan, knowing he had a child on the way?

The question that haunted Waylan even sixteen years later was one that could have changed their fates: Why had he insisted on waiting so long to run? As the doctor, he’d wanted Elijah to be fully healed before such a venture, but if they’d left immediately, the outcome may have been different.

In the first few months after crossing the doorway, Waylan had been terribly ill and fevered so was not surprised that Tabitha claimed he had apologised multiple times a day for being alive when her true mate wasn’t. If there was ever a time of his life he would change, it was not dying in Elijah’s place. Tabitha deserved to have him in her life. Eli deserved the chance to know his father.

Reluctantly shaking off the melancholy, Waylan continued the story. “The Meskli asked us to recount Elijah’s fate and somehow saw the truth in Tabitha’s grief,” he said, in awe of the Meskli’s nature and power. Farley was the judge, jury and executioner of Vihaan. Waylan had revered the man long before he knew him as a friend. “He ordered the elders to note in our official records that Elijah, a hutti warrior, was the father of Tabitha’s child and her fates-given mate. When he asked if there was anything in his power to ease her pain, Tabitha asked to be allowed to pass through the doorway to Dnara and raise her child in safety.”

He shook his head, surprised her strength still caused a swell of pride in his chest. “At the time, I had never seen her so strong nor been so proud to call her a friend. Over the years, I’ve seen that same strength many times.” As soon as Waylan heard that she would leave he’d known his fate. The Meskli had made the same offer of giving him whatever would heal his pain, and he’d chosen self-exile. “I told the Meskli I wanted to spend my life doing what I had always done: protecting my people. I couldn’t leave Tabitha to raise her child alone. I would sacrifice anything for the safety of her child.” Waylan huffed and folded his arms to fight the cold, still shocked all these years later that the Meskli had granted their requests.

“Tabitha tells the story differently,” Channon said before Waylan could recall the rest.

He arched an eyebrow but didn’t have time to speak.

“I understand why. She didn’t want to share her story with a stranger, but she wanted me to know how much you had fought and sacrificed to keep her safe.”

He wondered if Channon had read the wrong message in his story. “I did nothing but repay the years of friendship and support she had given me,” he argued, refusing to be seen as anything heroic. If he’d been the saviour of the story, he would have saved Elijah’s life before he succumbed to his injuries. “Without her, I’m not sure I would have had the strength to refuse the leadership of our village.”

Channon swivelled to face him. “You were to be the leader?”

Waylan shrugged, not sure why it mattered now. “Originally. They had asked me, but I would have lost my status as a healer. Russe was chosen in my place, and I always felt I had betrayed my people by allowing him power.”

“I doubt there was anything you could have done,” Channon insisted, laying a hand on his arm. “They chose him.”

Waylan waved away the past. “I wouldn’t have coped without Tabitha by my side.” Kalou weren’t permitted same-sex relationships, and he could never have mated under their laws. Tabitha was the only one who understood and accepted him for who he was. Ironically, if the elders had pushed, he may have asked Tabitha to mate with him to protect her from Russe and save himself the burden of being forced to mate another.

“You’ve dedicated your life to her,” Channon said, apparently understanding why Waylan was sharing this story. “And you raised her son as your own.”

“No.” Waylan stopped him before he painted a pretty picture over reality. “We told Eli stories of Elijah from a young age. I never asked him to think of me as his father. In fact, Tabitha and I raised him to think of me as Uncle Waylan. We even called him Elijah or Junior, but when he was fifteen, he asked us to start calling him Eli, and we have respected that decision. I suppose that over time he felt more connected to the man who raised him than a man he’d never met and started calling me Dad.” Waylan had felt privileged every day of his life to hold that honour.

Channon leaned over his knees, staring at his clasped hands.

Seeing his nerves, Waylan delved head first into what he’d brought him here to say. “I will always love Tabitha, but I’ve never been in love with her. While I’ll always look at Eli as my family, he needs a real father,” he said, needing to clarify his position. “I’ve always wanted Tabitha to find love if she could, and she’s pushed me to have relationships, but neither of us felt comfortable bringing another person into Eli's life. With Eli of age to understand, Tabitha and Adler are ready to reveal their feelings. My brother is prepared to leave Vihaan behind and live here permanently.” Though he was willing to do more than step aside, he wouldn’t tell Channon. It wasn’t his business if he intended to keep distance between them.

Standing, Waylan prepared to walk away. “I’ve waited a long time to tell you how I feel about you because I worried you couldn’t accept my feelings or the complexity of my family life. I’ve fallen in love with you as we’ve become friends, but I need you to realise there are things in my life that will never change: my work, my irregular hours, the demands on me from other Vihaans, and my duties to the family that has been mine to care for and love for the last sixteen years.

“Only you can decide whether you are comfortable with my family situation or if you would struggle. I may not be Tabitha’s mate or legal husband, but we’ve become like siblings, and Eli does love me as a father figure. I hope never to lose their love and trust but neither do I want to lose what we could have if you feel for me as I feel for you.”

Waylan couldn’t have put that feeling into words. Before Channon put distance between them, he might have said they were heading toward a relationship, dating and learning whether their lives could intertwine. Now he wasn’t even sure whether Channon cared about him beyond friendship or if that friendship could recover from the assumptions Channon had made.

“I’ve fallen in love with you. In an ideal world, you would be there to catch my fall and reciprocate my feelings. In reality, you are the only one who will decide whether to stay or leave,” Waylan said because this might be the last time they had the time, privacy and freedom to speak honestly. “If you leave, know that you have been one of the brightest parts of my every day, and I will always cherish the brief friendship we shared.”

While Channon sat silent and visibly unmoved, Waylan bent to graze a kiss across his cheek. “I’ll say goodbye because I would hate if this were to end and I never had the chance.” While he put physical distance between them, Channon had put an emotional chasm that extended far beyond where Waylan stood. He’d say his final goodbye, walk away, and leave the next step in Channon’s hands. “Goodbye, Channon.”

*

CHANNON

His heart ached and tears threatened as Waylan walked away. He never cried but the idea of losing Waylan physically hurt now he knew there had never been a reason to keep his distance.

Channon wasn’t sure how long he sat there, mentally debating and tumbling his thoughts through what ifs. If he’d trusted Waylan more, he would have told Channon of his complex family unit with time. Channon wished he could undo the last few weeks, but that wasn’t any more logical than wishing he could have remained in Vihaan for the last twenty-five years.

To calm his erratic thoughts, Channon left the park and returned to his truck. He needed time to think and process what he’d learned. Part of him wished he’d made more of an effort to tell Waylan his own story, to share part of his life. Knowing how Waylan felt―that he’d fallen in love with Channon―he had some serious decisions to make.

Halfway home, he headed left. A glance at the clock showed him it was three already, and he wondered where the time went. He drove to the soup kitchen, because he wasn’t in a fit mental state to go home. He needed to be around people, to think about something other than the pitiful mistakes he’d made.

The parking lot was empty when he arrived at the church hosting the soup kitchen this week. Channon was disappointed as volunteers were thin with the winter weather refusing to fade. He got out the driver’s seat and slipped between the front seats into the truck, where he prepared trays of food suitable to take inside. He lay kitchen foil over the top, then piled them three trays high and carried them from the truck into the church. The door was open, which was a small mercy.

Lovano nodded a greeting as he laid out various plates and cutlery.

“I thought you’d need extra hands,” Channon said though he normally didn’t bother explaining.

“All help is appreciated.” Lovano welcomed him with obvious gratitude that left him feeling guilty for having intended to head home. He should have known the cold wind would keep volunteers at home.

Channon got to work, hoping the distraction would get his mind off his own problems.

*

HE GOT HOME at seven, sank onto the sofa and ran his hands over his face, his heart filled with shame. Nothing put his life in perspective better than time at the soup kitchen.

He could dedicate time, money or food and he would always come away realising that his problems were trivial in comparison.

Waylan was his friend, someone he’d come to care deeply about and wanted to have something more with. Now Channon knew he wasn’t married, what was stopping him from confessing how he felt?

Every person at the soup kitchen had lost something―friends, family, their homes, their health―and would have traded everything they owned for the opportunity Channon had at his fingertips. The chance to love, to have a relationship with someone who cared about and respected him, they would welcome those chances with open hearts and greedy hands. The people at the shelter and soup kitchen might have lost everything but they had hope and the ability to trust and love.

Channon wasn’t sure when he’d become so jaded that he’d lost faith.

More than anything, he was disappointed that he’d doubted Waylan. Channon was wrong to hold onto that grudge, foolishly harbouring resentment because of something Wayland hadn’t done and hadn’t told him. Channon hadn’t given him the chance.

Besides, Channon had no right to that information. If they’d been dating or had made a verbal commitment, he might have expected to be told. But if Waylan didn’t even know how he felt, what, beyond a budding friendship, would inspire him to tell Channon?

Yet Waylan still took the risk even after Channon cut off contact and kept his distance. Despite how brutish he’d behaved, Waylan kept trying to make it right, kept coming around and staying in touch. Waylan had even invited him into his home, when Tabitha and Eli were inside, offering the perfect opportunity to introduce them. Now Channon had made it awkward and uncomfortable.

Regardless of what decision he made about the future of their relationship, Waylan would be right not to forgive him.