“Asters,” Titus revealed when Ezra asked what the flowers were. “One of the last blooms of fall.”
“Are we okay?” Ezra’s next question came softly.
Titus sighed. “I’m sorry I was…I am…the way I am.”
“The way you are is wonderful. It’s the way you think you are that’s troubling at times. I want to help with that.”
“There’s only so much you can do.” Ezra’s knuckles tasted of sweat when Titus offered a kiss there. “And I appreciate that. I have to find those things we talked about, to feel complete like Henry somehow does. My purpose. My third, fourth, fifth, and sixth half.”
“It likely won’t be as a mathematician or accountant.”
Ezra’s sarcastic wit brought a laugh almost always. “Likely not,” Titus said.
* * * *
Titus was the first one awake the next morning. “What day is it?”
Ezra
