I asked Patrick if he felt sad that he still had to keep it a secret. And he said, “No.” Because at least now, Brad doesn’t have to get drunk to love him.
When I hugged him good-bye, he clung to me childishly, as he never had in childhood proper. I’m not quite sure, since he muttered it into the up turned codar of my coat, but I like to think that he choked, “I’m sorry.” Taking the risk that I’d heard correctly, I said distinctly myself, “I’m sorry too, Kevin. I’m sorry, too.”