Three Months later

Joshua Lindstrom was never charged. Although he was undeniably linked to the whole case involving the Argentinean doctor, there were records of his numerous phone conversations with the office in Buenos Aires, but no trace of funds changing hands. It simply wasn't enough to have charges brought against him. He couldn’t even be charged with paying Max Krabanski to steal the financial documents, because there was no proof, only hearsay.

There were, however, three other people willing to come forward to say Joshua had tried to coerce them into parting with money for a procedure that would never work and what would come of that, only time would tell.

It brought to light his string of lies. His name wasn't even actually Joshua Lindstrom. It was Joshua Van Pelt, Lindstrom was his mother's married name. It wasn't too uncommon for people to use different surnames through their lives, and he paid his taxes accordingly, so it was hardly a criminal offence.

It was a little shocking to hear Joshua Van Pelt wasn't even gay, like he'd led us to believe, but that he had an ex-wife and kids in Oregon. He didn’t lie about his blind mother; that much was true.

At the end of the day, Isaac didn't care. It was over. Joshua was fired from his job and couldn't hurt anymore people in the blind community. The so-called ophthalmologist in Buenos Aires was shut down, temporarily anyway. The guy wasn't even a doctor. His con was, that the blind person would be put under a general anesthetic in a mock clinic, and when they woke up the procedure would be simply deemed unsuccessful without anything actually being done. The money would have already been transferred, with no course of refund, and the patient goes home, penniless, sightless.

It was disgraceful.

But Isaac considered himself lucky, in more ways than one.

He never lost any money—the asking price, he told me, was a hefty forty-two thousand dollars—he never left the country, and against all odds, he never lost me.

It wasn't easy. I'll be the first to admit it. But dare I say it, we're now in a healthier place.

When we left the airport after his almost-trip-to-Argentina, I told him I was expected to sign a lease for my new house. While he didn't say anything, his grip on my hand squeezed to the point of pain. He nodded, as though he understood.

The truth was, I didn't want to live apart from him either, but we couldn't just go back to the way it was. So I made a deal. I told him I'd move back in until we found our place, if and only if, he agreed to counseling.

Therapy for him. And therapy for us, as a couple.

He lifted my hand to his face and after a quiet moment, he nodded.

So I moved back in, and he made himself an appointment with a therapist his doctor recommended. Sessions started the next week, and it was going well.

I think in the beginning, Isaac thought it was silly and a waste of everyone's time, but he wanted to show me he was willing to change. The more he went to his single sessions, the more he talked about the accident where he lost his sight, the loss of his parents, the home invasion, his fears, his insecurities, his accomplishments.

And although some nights were rough after some sessions, on the whole, he was much happier. He seemed… settled.

The couple's therapy was good too. We were growing, becoming stronger. It wasn't all wonderful, nor was it easy. But I loved it.

What I did love, was the new house.

We went house hunting, narrowed it down to two, then had Hannah help us decide. I think Isaac had Hannah's input because he was worried about my taste. He thought if my taste in music and movies was any indication…

See? Yes, he was doing well in therapy, but he was still Isaac.

The two houses we narrowed it down to, were similar. Both were big, stylish, had four bedrooms, and a pool—they were very similar to Isaac's house. We brought Hannah with us on a final inspection of the two, and she thought both were lovely, but it was Isaac who ultimately made the final decision.

I was taking Hannah through, showing her where Isaac's lounge suite would go and how mine would fit in the media room, when we lost Isaac. We soon found him though, on the back patio, listening. When he turned to face us, his smile was spectacular.

"Can you hear that?" he asked.

Of course we couldn't, but once we were quiet and concentrated hard enough, we could hear what he was listening to.

Birds. Lots of them.

The real estate lady looked at the three of us like we were mad, but told us the house backed onto a nature reserve.

Isaac said, "It sounds like the ponds down at Wompatuck."

I smiled at the real estate lady. "I think we found our house."

We worked out a finance payment deal between us, and had lawyers draw it up. Because Isaac could afford the house outright, it didn't make any sense to go through a bank and pay interest. So, he bought it, and I paid repayments like I would a home loan. I wasn't too happy about that in the beginning, but Isaac said any interest he made off my payments he'd donate to the local APSCA.

Sneaky bastard knew I'd never argue with that.

So we bought it, moved in and were having a little housewarming with people from my work and Isaac's school, due to arrive in about an hour, which was why I was trying to get everything organized. Mark had arrived the day before, and for some reason had decided he needed Isaac to help him grab a few last minute things before the party.

I didn't mind. I got more done without those two horsing around anyway. As I finished prepping the last of the fruit salad, I smiled as I remembered how Mark had taken it upon himself to visit after Isaac and I had broken up and got back together.

Mark had hugged me, long and hard, and told me he was truly sorry he couldn't have come when I really needed him.

Then he started on Isaac. He told him if he hurt me like that again, blind man or not, he'd kick his ass. Then he pulled him into his arms and hugged him fiercely, and they proceeded to slow dance around the living room while Isaac explained how sorry he was.

I only had to remind Mark to keep his hand off Isaac's ass once.

"What's got you smiling?" Hannah's voice startled me. She was holding a smiling little Ada on her hip.

"Oh, just thinking. You know," I said, and tipped the cut melon into the bowl. "I didn't hear you guys come in."

"Isaac and Mark pulled in before us. They let us in the through the garage," she explained. "Got everything done? Anything I can help with?"

"I've pretty much got it all organized," I told her. "That's if those two remembered the cheesecake."

Hannah smiled. "They were getting things out of the trunk. I left them to it." She gently poked Ada's tummy. "Your Uncle Isaac and Uncle Mark are silly, aren't they?"

I grinned and put the fruit salad in the fridge, just as Isaac walked in with his arms full, Mark was behind him. Isaac stopped walking, waiting for someone to unburden him, which I did. I took the cheesecake and bread rolls from him, and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Did Mark behave?"

"Mark always behaves himself," Mark said, sliding a carton of beer onto the kitchen counter.

"Mark tells fibs," Isaac said with a smile.

"Here," Hannah said to Isaac, handing Ada over. "Take her and I'll finish up in here, you boys go and sit down."

Isaac took his little niece against his chest and bounced her in his arms. I put the beer in the bottom of the fridge and when I stood up, Mark was taking Ada from Isaac. He whispered what sounded like, "Do it now."

Isaac wiped his hands on his cargos, as if he was nervous. "Um…"

I looked between them. "Isaac, what's going on?"

"Well," he said slowly. "I wanted to do something… well, I wanted to do it later, but Mark thought I should do it now."

"Do what now?"

The kitchen was quiet, everyone was watching Isaac. "I um, I wanted to do this in private…"

Carlos walked in from watching the big screen. Hannah shushed him before he could say anything.

I walked over to Isaac. "Babe, you okay?"

He nodded quickly, and smiled. "Can we have a moment alone?"

"Sure," I told him, and taking his hand, I led him to the front living room where Mr Tiddles was stretched out on the floor in the sun. "What's up?"

He swallowed hard. "I bought you something."

I smiled, but I was wary of how nervous he was. "Okay…"

He reached into his shorts pocket and pulled out a pouch. "I'd heard of these, and did some phoning around. Mark took me to get them," he said quietly, and handed me the pouch.

I pulled the strings apart to open the pouch and tipped the contents out onto my hand.

It was two silver rings.

Not just any rings, but rings with raised dots on them. Braille. They had Braille dots peppered on the surface. I was pretty sure what it said by looking at it, but I gently put my fingertip to the metal and read the words.

I love you.

Isaac bit his bottom lip. "I uh… I um…"

I kissed him to shut him up. "Isaac. It's beautiful."

"It says I love you."

"I know."

He lifted his hands and felt the rings before he took one of them. "This one's yours. It's one size bigger than mine." Then he took my right hand, and before he slid the ring on, he said, "I just thought we could have matching rings. But, you know, I wouldn't mind if this were to go on your left hand."

I was smiling and my heart was hammering. “I wouldn’t mind either.”

He was still holding my right hand, and when I thought he was about to slip the ring on my finger, he froze. I could have sworn he’d stopped breathing, but he took my left hand and ever-so slowly, lowered to one knee.

I gasped at the realization of what was happening, and movement at the corner of my eye made me look to the door. Mark was there, holding little Ada, grinning hugely, and Carlos and Hannah were there too. Both were wide eyed, and Hannah had his hand over her mouth.

“Carter,” Isaac said gruffly, making me look back to him. “I’m not perfect, although you seem to think I am, I can tell you I’m not. But with everything I am, I am yours.” He took a shaky breath. “I want to spend my life with you, and I was hoping you’d want that too. I need you to tell me when I’m being obnoxious, even when we’re old and gray. Will you do that? Forever, Carter? Would you be my husband?”

At that point, Hannah squeaked and Isaac’s face turned toward the sound and he realized we had an audience. I dropped to my knees so I matched his height, and took his face in my hands, bringing his face back to mine. “Yes,” I whispered against his lips, before burying my face in his neck. “A thousand times, yes.”

Hannah almost tackled us. She was crying and squealing, and doing that weird jumpy-hug thing she did, somehow managing to do it on her knees. We got pulled up to our feet and only after we were hugged by everyone, did we put the rings on with shaking hands.

Whether it was the squealing noise from Hannah, or the other excited voices and laughter, we soon had another visitor.

Brady.

I called him over, and crouched to my knees so I could give him a hug. He seemed to smile back at me, with happy eyes and his tongue lolling to the side, so I hugged him again.

Then Isaac’s hand was on my shoulder, and he knelt beside me. He ran a gentle hand over Brady’s forehead and gave his dog a hug.

Isaac sat back on his haunches, took my hand and sighed. “I owe everything to Brady,” he said quietly.

I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “So do I.”


The End