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Roman stood in the doorway of their new house, watching his husband. He’d been relegated to silently watching from the shadows since his affair had come to light, and he’d thought that was awful but this? This was so much worse. He’d never felt grief on this scale before, never known pain like this in his life, and knowing that Virgil was feeling it too, on top of the pain of his infidelity, was salt in the wound. For as long as he lived, he’d never forget the sound Virgil had made as their oldest son, Phillip, had breathed his final breath. That wail of despair, something soul deep, would haunt his nightmares for years to come.
Virgil didn’t move from his spot on the bench in their garden, his brown eyes staring blankly ahead. Phillip’s baby blanket was clutched in his hands, and the only indication he’d noticed Roman’s approach at all was the slight tensing of his shoulders and the way his body flinched away. Roman kept his distance, knowing he wasn’t welcome right now, but he stood at his husband’s side. “I know I don’t deserve you, Virgil. I never have...but hear me out, please?”
Virgil didn’t answer, just sat there, eyes closed as tears streamed down his face. He gave the smallest nod, and Roman felt a wave of relief so acute he almost drowned in it. “Thank you...god, thank you, Virgil. If I could spare his life, if I could have traded his life for mine, Phillip would be standing here right now. You know I’d have given anything, done anything, to save him. There aren’t words for this, and I know that there is still so much you are rightfully angry at me for...but please don’t shut me out. Not in this.”
Virgil’s head was bowed over the blanket, tears glistening on the soft yarn. He gave another nod, and Roman fell to his knees next to the bench. Tears clouded his own vision as he looked up at his husband. “I don’t pretend to know the challenges we’re facing, trying to get through this. And I know there’s no replacing what we’ve lost...but I’m not afraid. I know who I married. Just let me stay by your side, Virgil. You don’t have to speak to me, you don’t have to acknowledge me, just promise me we can spend a little time each day in each other’s company? Please!”
“....Alright.” Virgil’s voice was quiet, hoarse with tears, but Roman thought he’d never heard a sweeter sound in his life. It was the first his husband had spoken to him since that awful day. He couldn’t suppress the small sob of relief that escaped him, bowing his head quickly so he wouldn’t have to look Virgil in the eye.
“Thank you.” Roman said softly as he rose to his feet. He spent the next hour standing quietly next to the bench, occasionally uttering soft remembrances of Phillip. Sometimes Virgil responded, sometimes he was silent, but just having him there was enough. When his husband had reached his limit, he stood and walked into the house, and Roman let him go. It was a lot to ask, and he knew it was, but this was a grief that neither of them could bear alone.
Over the next few weeks, they developed a routine. Roman would go to the store alone to pick up what supplies his family would need for the week. When he returned, he and Virgil would go for a walk together, taking in the sights of the city. Virgil refused to take his arm, to touch him, but he would allow Roman to walk by his side and listen to him chatter about whatever they were seeing that day.
In the past, it was always Virgil who took the children for an outing on Sunday. In his grief, he withdrew into himself, so the duty fell to Roman. He gladly did whatever he could to ease any burden for his husband, devoting more time to Virgil and their children than he ever had before. It was cruel that it had taken the death of his oldest son after the near dissolution of his marriage to understand what was really important, but Roman had always been stubborn. Maybe this was the only way he could truly learn.
In the months that followed, they all mourned for Phillip, but life had to go on. The new routine worked for them, and slowly Virgil began to smile again. Small, quiet things, but Roman noticed some life returning to those brown eyes. The children began to play again, giggles filling their once somber house. Roman began to appreciate the quiet, something he’d always detested in the past, but there was something to be said for moments of peace.
His favorite part of the day was the hour he spent in the garden, just standing by Virgil’s side. He would talk about everything and nothing, keeping no secrets from his husband. He told him everything, things he’d never told anyone, not even Logan. Perhaps he knew on a subconscious level that Virgil had seen the very best and very worst of him, so there was no sense in hiding anymore. Some days, Virgil would listen quietly. Some days, like the day he’d spilled everything that led to his affair, Virgil would stand and leave without a word. The best days were when he could get his husband to smile a little, or snort in amusement, or speak to him at all.
Roman was standing in his usual spot today, just looking out over the garden. Virgil was seated on the bench, like always. There was a gentle breeze today, ruffling his husband’s hair, making him look even more beautiful. Roman knew he himself didn’t look nearly as good, the stress of everything having added gray to his hair and lines to his face where none had existed before, but Virgil? He looked just as beautiful as he had the day they’d married. “I am a fool, Virgil.”
“If you are expecting an argument from me, you are in for a very long wait.” Virgil quipped, one of his small smiles curving his lips.
“No, darling. You know better,” Roman said with a chuckle.
“True. What prompted this thought, praytell? Have you done something even more foolish that I should be aware of?” Virgil asked, his brown eyes dancing with hidden amusement.
“Well, I did fall into that pond the other day, but you already laughed at me for it. No, darling, I was just looking at you and thinking that I am the biggest fool alive because I had you and thought there could ever be anything better. I was graced with the best of husbands, the very best of men, and yet I sought others. I was a fool to ever have tried.” Roman answered honestly, looking off in the direction of the pond with a grin. It was nothing he hadn’t said before, really. He’d apologized countless times for what he’d put Virgil through, had made countless vows to never do such a thing again, but his husband had never acknowledged any of it. He expected Virgil to ignore this statement just the same, so he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a soft, delicate hand touch his own.
“You certainly are a fool. But I suppose that you are my fool, so I shall have to endure.” Virgil said softly, lacing their fingers together. “It’s quiet uptown. I think I’ve grown to like it better.”
Roman didn’t move, hardly dared breathe, as he looked down at his husband, at their joined hands. He felt tears stinging his eyes, a weight on his chest as he struggled to breathe. He didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve this quiet forgiveness. “I quite agree,” he managed to say, squeezing Virgil’s hand gently.
“You must be tired. Come, sit beside me.” Virgil offered, moving to the side, and Roman wasn’t sure if he blindly obeyed or if his legs simply collapsed underneath him as he sat heavily in the spot provided. Virgil looked up at him, a warmth in his eyes that he hadn’t seen in a very long time lingering in them, and he was vaguely aware that his tears were spilling over, streaking down his face.
“I love you, Virgil. I don’t deserve this, don’t deserve you, but god help me, I will greedily take any morsel of affection you give me and beg on my hands and knees for more!” Roman said shakily, his thumb brushing over Virgil’s hand. His husband reached up with his free hand and wiped those tears away, cupping his face.
“I thought I would hate you forever, I truly did. I wanted to. But my heart has always been yours, and I cannot seem to take it back, no matter how hard I try. If you will swear to me, here and now, that you will never hide from me again, that you will continue to share all...then I could perhaps see a way to call you mine again.” Virgil’s voice was quiet, but Roman felt each syllable in his soul.
“I would swear anything you asked of me, if only to be yours again for even a moment! Everything I am, flawed and worthless though it may be, is yours. Will always be yours, just as you have always been mine.” Roman nuzzled into his husband’s hand, basking in his affection, in the warmth of the love he’d carelessly tossed aside once before. Never again, never!
Virgil leaned closer, and Roman felt the gentle press of soft lips against his own for the first time in years. He melted into the kiss, tasting the salt from his tears mixed into it, and he eagerly responded with fervor. When they broke apart, Virgil leaned his forehead against Roman’s, huffing out a quiet laugh. “Then I will call you mine, and keep you as such. I love you, Roman.”
“Words and a sentiment I will cherish and prize until my dying days.” Roman replied softly, pulling his husband into his arms, relishing the way they fit together. “I cannot promise I will never be foolish enough to fall into a pond, or lose something of value, but I can promise I will never be foolish enough to falter in my dedication to you and our family ever again. You are my legacy, and the only one worth having.”
He looked out over their garden, with Virgil tucked in his arms, and closed his eyes in contentment. This peace, this affection, may not last forever, but it was enough. More than enough. He sighed happily as Virgil nuzzled into his chest and pressed a kiss to his hair. Yes, he really was learning to love the quiet.