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Adam Parrish had never owned a piece of jewelry. In fact, he did not consider himself the jewelry-wearing type. Sure he went to a fancy school, and sure he sometimes posed as a fancy boy, and, often, he spoke with his newfound fancy words, but under the Harvard sweatshirts, and the elite friend circle, and the way he often said, “I suppose,” was a boy in coveralls, under the hood of an old Chevy truck, with a farmer boyfriend–no, no, farmer fiancé– and the words, “I reckon’,” in a slow Henrietta draw.
But as of late Adam Parrish found himself cherishing the gold band around his ring finger more than the air in his lungs.
Maybe he was the jewelry-wearing type if that jewelry was a ring, given to him by Ronan Lynch, with the promise of forever.
Now, Adam Parrish grew up under the impression that marriage was two people staying together because they had nowhere else to go. It was two people who maybe loved each other enough at one time to say ‘I do’ but over time had grown weary of each other's company. Marriage, to him, growing up was two people so comfortable that even cruel words and hard fists did not separate you. You stayed. You endured. But you never really lived another day of your life–not really.
But now, now that Adam had gotten the opportunity to love and be loved by Ronan Lynch he realized that marriage was nothing like what he saw between his abusive father and submissive mother. He learned that he could and would be a better husband to his boyfriend–no, no, fiancé– and that marriage between them would not just be two people staying together because they had nowhere to go, but staying together because they had nowhere else they’d rather be.
He learned, through Ronan’s compassion, and understanding, and encouragement, and a bit of bullshit (sometimes), that marriage was not two people who maybe loved each other enough at one point to say ‘I do’ but two people who loved each other enough to say, I do…forgive you. I do…not like the way you just spoke to me. I do…want you. I do…not want to eat pizza again for dinner, what are you, a toddler?
Adam knew now, with this gold band on his finger, that forever with Ronan was like this sturdy material. While over time its shiny gold appearance may become etched and dulled, it would never stop being the promise of never-ending love between them. And sure, growing up Adam had thought a fight between two partners ended in flying fists, tears, and sometimes bloodshed, but he knew that with Ronan, he was capable of breaking toxic, generational behaviors. He knew that with Ronan a fight between them ended with an apology, and compromise, and sometimes silence for the sake of getting his head on straight before he went and did or said something stupid, but it never ended in more pain. It never ended worse than it started. Adam believed, now, that he knew what love was, that fighting was a crucial way to keep that love alive and thriving and growing, but he also knew that there was a right way to fight, and it wasn't what he saw growing up between his mother and father.
You can learn a lot about someone in the midst of a fight.
You can learn more about someone in the way the fight ends.
Usually, Adam and Ronan ended their arguments, tiffs, disagreements, and even the occasional blow-up–which was to be expected with a hot head and a passive-aggressive asshole dating–with a simple, “Well, I’m sorry then,” followed up with a returning, “I’m sorry, too.”
And that would be that.
But sometimes a good disagreement ended in Adam not being perfect, he did have years of emotional damage and abuse working against him, and sometimes he’d end up slamming his fist through a wall, and it's a good thing walls don't get emotional damage because Adam reckoned if they did, he would have a lot of emotionally damaged drywall to repair.
Ronan Lynch was not perfect either. And while Adam blew up, kicked things, punched walls at his worst, Ronan had a tendency to shut down, withdraw, and disappear at his worst.
These were things they were working through before they said, ‘I do’. But one thing was certain, they never physically hurt each other, they never didn’t apologize, and they never ever went to bed angry with one another.
Which was why Adam found himself sitting on the porch of the barn, spinning the already nicked and dulled golden band around his long, calloused finger anxiously.
Ronan had taken off–fight or flight–in what had been one of their most explosive fights since they had gotten quietly engaged at Ronan’s older brother's wedding. It was as if the newness of the engagement had begun to wear off, and the reality and stress of real life were creeping their way back into the cracks and crevices of their insecurities causing what should have just been a small crack in the surface of their relationship to turn into a crumbling mess of uncertainty.
A crack could be repaired , Adam always thought, but when things crumble, they are much harder to put back together. And that was why he was worried. The sun was coming up over the barn and Adam hated that they had somehow managed to break one of their rules they agreed to when it came to having a healthy fight. While neither of them had gone to bed angry, it was because neither of them had gone to bed at all. And that bothered Adam.
Adam checked his phone again, and, as to be expected, Ronan had not responded to any of his texts–this was Ronan shutting down. This was Ronan flying up the highway in his BMW much too fast, just to feel anything but the pain of a fight with Adam. This was Ronan blasting Russian electronica music to drown out his thoughts, thoughts that said, Adam, deserves better; Adam doesn't really want this; Adam never should have said yes; Adam isn't…gay.
Adam knew it wasn't as bad as it had escalated to. Adam knew that this was a crack and not a crumble moment. But he wasn't sure if Ronan knew that.
Ronan’s insecurities about their relationship seemed to grow the closer they got to their wedding day. He had started picking fights. He had started being secretive about his emotions. He started dreaming. He had started cleaning for the sake of cleaning, and Ronan was a fairly messy guy, in the sense of chaotically organized clutter. He had started asking Adam questions that quite frankly pissed Adam off.
“How do you know you want to be with a man forever if you never really dated girls?” Ronan had asked one night as they lay in bed.
“Because I didn’t fall in love with your anatomy, Ronan, I fell in love with your heart, and mind, and somehow your stubborn disposition.” Adam had countered.
“Yeah, but like, how do you even know you're not going to wake up one day and realize you miss being with women?” Ronan pushed, and Adam just rolled his eyes and pulled Ronan into his body. It was a fight that ended with fucking. Because, sometimes, Adam felt the need to show Ronan how much he wanted him.
But tonight…tonight's fight was a different breed. It was different because it didn't even feel like a fight, not really until it was one. Adam felt blindsided. He had been feeling blindsided quite often if he was being honest. He felt like Ronan had cold feet, and Adam was paying the price for it. He was distant and skittish, and Adam was worried that he should be worried, so he asked.
“Should I be worried about you freaking out and pulling a no-show this weekend?” Adam had asked, making sure to keep his voice light and non-confrontational.
“It’s a fucking courtroom, Parrish, if we don't go it's not the end of the world, we can reschedule.” Ronan had said, his gaze still plastered on his video game.
“Courtroom or not, it's not really something you reschedule, either you're in or you're not, Ronan,” Adam said, this time pleading for any sign of certainty.
At that Ronan had stood, slammed his controller down, and stormed from the room mumbling something about ‘Not in the mood to talk about this ’ and leaving Adam alone and unsure of everything he was always pretty damn sure of.
The sun was up completely now, and the gold band on Adam's finger that he wore like a badge of honor had rubbed him raw from all the anxious spinning, a reminder that Ronan promised forever, and Ronan didn't lie, even if he broke one of their golden rules about fights.
Adam stood, a little defeated, extremely exhausted, and not sure what to do now but sleep. He made his way through the house, the old wood floors creaking and groaning under his every step as if the house was moaning and crying out, Where's Ronan, step, step, step, You never go to sleep without saying sorry, step, step, step.
Adam shouted at the old house, “Oh, hush up. I’m not in the mood to talk about it.”
He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his jeans and his tee shirt, and fell to the bed in his ratty “work” boxers and his white crew socks. Before his brain could worry another second on the matter of Ronan and the wedding and the fight, he fell into a deep sleep.
***
Ronan got home shortly after the sun had risen. He thought he might find Adam on the porch waiting, that was a very Adam thing to do in these situations. He was surprised when he got home to find the barn quiet and still. Much calmer now than it had been when he had stormed out. The bones of the house had settled while he was gone–driving too fast, thinking too much, questioning everything, and, ultimately, feeling a bit sorry for himself.
The thing was, Ronan wasn’t unsure about marrying Adam. Hell, he would have married Adam the night of their first kiss, in his childhood bedroom, the smell of BBQ from outside coming in through the open window, the toy car in Adam's hand, the way Adam had kissed him back–he would have bet everything on Adam that day, and every day since.
It wasn't an Adam issue.
Ronan believed Adam was all in. He wasn't always certain of that. It’s never easy for a gay man to just trust that things would work out for him, history had proven time and time again that this was not an easy life, but it was a life worth fighting for, and he had always fought hard for Adam, and Adam, in return, had done the same. So, no, this wasn't an Adam issue, and for the past few weeks leading up to their very modest, very secret court wedding date, Ronan had found himself pushing Adam away and not knowing why.
Ronan found himself picking fights to see if Adam, in the midst of the fight, would reveal something groundbreaking–and he had, Adam revealed time and time again that he was fair, and grounded, and willing to say sorry, or wait for an apology when he was deserving of one. He found himself putting up walls, in hopes of seeing if Adam was strong enough to break them down–Adam had proven he was, and wall by wall had fallen under Adam's unwavering strength built on love. He had found himself distancing himself from Adam, to see if Adam still found him worthy, after all this time, of chasing–and like a sprint to a finish line, with a gold medal in mind, Adam had run after Ronan in the silent moments, in the times when Ronan got lost in the barns for the sake of getting lost. He found himself unwilling to show Adam affection in the physical sense, pushing away from hugs, pursing his lips tight during kisses, keeping his hands in the back pockets of his jeans to keep Adam from mindlessly grabbing one to kiss, or hold or tug him in close–but Adam would wake him, in the middle of the night, trailing kisses down his spine, sending shivers across his ink-covered back and sweet metal arm.
Adam was damn near perfect even when he wasn't. Which left Ronan perplexed by his hesitation toward their wedding day. This scared Ronan; if he couldn't be sure about loving Adam for the rest of his life, what could he be sure of?
Ronan crept into the house, not wanting to wake Adam, but with a newfound understanding of why he had run away, why he had pushed away, why he had been such an ass hole in what should have been the best few weeks leading up to his wedding day.
He simply did not want to do it alone. He missed his father, he missed his mother, and he hated the idea of not getting married in the Catholic church–his safe haven–a place where he, a dream thing, could worship God, even if he wasn't made in said God’s image. He wasn't outwardly open about the stirring of his heart, the way it longed for romance and fairy tale endings. He often put up a front; hard lines, dark glares, fuck all attitude, but at his center was a soft-hearted man, who wanted it all. He wanted to stand at the altar of St. Agnes church, a church that knew his sins all too well and declare before the heavens and the earth that he loved Adam Parrish.
He realized on his long drive that he had waited his whole life to marry Adam and that somehow in the race to say ‘I do’ he had lost sight of his vision of what that special day would look like for him.
Ronan in a fresh suit, all black, black skinny tie, fresh black boots, freshly shaved head, an expensive cologne that was gifted to him from Gansy or Declan, a folded paper in his back pocket with fine lines of black chicken scratch baring his handwritten vows.
Adam in a new suit as well, something light, and airy, maybe dusty blue, a bright flower on his chest–something classic, a rose or even a lily. His fingernails scrubbed clean of grease, his rough calloused and cracked skin slathered in a dreamt-up ointment that smelled of cucumber and mint.
He imagined their friends in the pews, being asked to speak their peace if these two men should not be joined this day in holy matrimony–none of them doing so.
He imagined his brothers at his side, proud, encouraging, Declan holding back tears, Matthew wearing a child-like grin.
He imagined strangers from Harvard.
He imagined Adam looking around one last time to see if his deadbeat parents came, and realizing they didn't, and that it was a good thing, not a bad thing. He imagined relief in Adams' eyes when he remembered that Ronan was his family now.
He imagined a prayer.
He imagined communion.
He imagined the sun, piercing through the stained glass windows, creating a rainbow of colors across their faces and they leaned in to kiss one another for the first time as husband and husband. A rainbow, a sign of hope in the bible that God would never flood the earth again, now, a sign of their brand of love, a love they would not be ashamed of–the rainbow reimagined to show a new promise of another day, another life, a new hope.
He imagined it all and had somehow got so far ahead of himself that he had settled for a courtroom on a Wednesday.
He slipped out of his clothes and climbed into the cool sheets next to Adam. Adam pulled his warm body into Ronan’s on instinct, even in his sleep, and Ronan too began to doze off, with the reminder that when they woke up, he would apologize first thing–for breaking one of their rules about fighting, and for leaving, and mostly, for not realizing sooner what it was that was bothering him.
***
Adam’s body tried to wake up several times before he really woke up. Somehow despite his mind knowing he and Ronan were fighting, his sleeping body did not care and it had nestled itself into Ronan the way it often did. When he finally did wake up he could tell in the way Ronan's body felt against his that Ronan was awake too.
“Well?” Adam grumbled, rolling away from Ronan's body to give them both a little space.
“I’m sorry I broke our rule,” was all Ronan said, but Adam knew there was more to it by the way Ronan cracked his knuckles anxiously despite this not really being a ‘cracking of the knuckles’ situation.
“That wasn't the worst of it and you know it, Ronan,” Adam said, he was unwilling to tip-toe after the long night of worry he had.
“I know.”
Adam huffed out a breath.
“So, if you know, are you going to tell me? Or am I supposed to just be okay with the way you left and the things you said last night?”
“I was wrong.”
Adam rubbed his palms into his sleep-heavy eyes. It was too early for Ronan to be playing his hard-to-get games.
“Yeah, but that's not enough, Ronan. You can't just say you were wrong, you have to say why you were wrong. Why have you been making me chase you these last few weeks? And why, you are acting like our wedding date is not a big deal? You treat it like it's a reservation for a restaurant you don't even like the food at.”
Ronan rolled over to look at Adam and so Adam did the same. Being face to face with Ronan like this, right now, felt dangerous.
Was this where it all ended?
The golden band around his finger suddenly felt like it was not the promise of forever, but the burden of a trip to a pawn show and a prayer that selling an engagement ring didn't mean seven years of bad luck or some B.S. like that.
“I don't want to marry you in a courthouse,” Ronan blurted out.
“Okay,” Adam said, more a question than anything else.
“I want to marry you,” Ronan started and Adam hated how much relief he found in those words because feeling relief that Ronan still wanted to marry him meant that at some point over time, he hadn't been entirely sure.
“Okay,” Adam said again, allowing Ronan space to speak his peace.
“I don't want to marry you in a courtroom because I want to do it properly.”
“I told you we could do it big, Ronan. I told you whatever you wanted. The only thing that mattered to me was that we both made it there and said 'I do.'”
“I know. I think I just freaked out, man,” Ronan admitted.
“Freaked out about what? About taking sacred vows? You can pull shit from dreams, Lynch, I think saying a wedding vow can be forgiven if you choose to break it–even if it is ‘under God’.”
“No, I got freaked out that if we waited too long, you might change your mind, so I pushed the courthouse, just so I could get some kind of closure with all of this.”
Adam sat up, and used all he had to push back his annoyance towards Ronan to replace it with the need to understand Ronan.
“Marriage doesn’t equal closure, Ronan, if anything, it means a lifetime of uncertainties, can we really love each other for a lifetime, will we grow bored, what if you age badly, what if I get mean, what if one of us dies too soon? There is no closure in life, except death, Ronan, and I’m too busy livin’ with you to worry about any of that.”
Ronan stayed silent and Adam let him take his time to digest what he had said. Adam was good about that sort of thing–challenging Ronan to slow down, the way Adam said certain words, slow down time like Adam’s Henrietta drawl, slow down like time wasn't real, and when Ronan practiced a more ‘yellow light’ brand of thinking, allowing himself to get stuck at the ‘red light’ from time to time, he was able to hit the gas with much more certainty when he finally had the green light.
“Okay then,” Ronan said, breaking the silence, and Adam didn't know what part of all this Ronan was ‘okaying’ but he would take it.
“Okay then,” he repeated and then began to laugh.
Ronan punched Adam's thigh playfully and scowled, “What are you laughing at, asshole?”
“I just have no clue what I just agreed to,” Adam said, still laughing at their brand of communication, their brand of love.
“That we should still get married at the courthouse,” Ronan huffed as if it was the only thing he could have meant, which was absurd considering they had veered away from that part of the conversation entirely.
“And what about your dream wedding?” Adam reminded.
“Yeah, I’m gonna need that too. But for now, I just need to marry you so I can’t stop anxiously awaiting marrying you.”
“Can I wear a dress?” Adam asked, faking a blushing bride.
“Don't be a dick,” Ronan said, pinning Adam to the bed.
“Okay, no dress,” Adam agreed, even though he knew if he did want to wear a dress Ronan wouldn't mind, Adam knew, under Ronan’s gaze that at this moment Ronan loved him so much, that he wanted it all, anyway he could have it because marriage wasn't just two people loving each other until they didn't, or staying together just because, or sleeping in the same bed and not touching. It was this: healthy fights, honest conversations, hard lips soften with understanding. It was not liking each other, but finding ways to fix that. It was courthouse weddings to pass the time while you planned the main event.
It was St. Agnes Church.
It was family and friends.
It was written wedding vows with cuss words and a southern drawl.
It was man and man, or man and woman, or person and person.
It was gold bands on cracked knuckles.
It was Ronan and Adam and forever, and forever, and forever, and forever.