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Deep in Aaron’s closet is an innocent-looking shoe box. When John asked him about it when they first moved in together, Aaron said it contained some of Liv’s things, items he couldn’t get rid of. John smiled gently and told Aaron that he understood, and that of course he would have a box full of his dead sister’s things, and that he hopes Aaron will share the contents with him someday.
(Aaron knows he should feel bad for lying, but he doesn’t)
Aaron hasn’t looked in that box in years —too many painful memories. But he also can’t bring himself to toss it. Couldn’t when he was dating Ben, and can’t even now, married to John. He doesn’t even think about it much anymore. But now and then, when he’s reaching to grab a hoodie or searching for his dress shoes, he’ll see the box and he’ll feel a deep ache in his chest. It’s an ache that’s always there, dulled over the years, easy to ignore most of the time. But when it threatens to overwhelm him, he’ll slam the door shut, as if he can trap that pain in the closet. He tells himself it works (it doesn’t).
It wasn't until Robert came back that, whenever Aaron opens the closet now, his eyes land on the box, as if it's beckoning him.
One night, John is working a late shift, and Aaron shoves off Mack so he can have a quiet evening alone. He tries to distract himself, but he can’t help but think about Robert. Aaron is doing his best to keep his distance, afraid of what will happen if he ends up back in Robert’s orbit. But that doesn’t mean he can’t look for him when he’s in the pub, or watch him from afar on the street. He also can’t stop himself from admiring the changes in Rob. Longer hair, styled differently. The facial hair he had always refused to have before. The way his back and arms now fill out the t-shirts he wears. He even seems taller, if that’s possible. But beneath it all, it’s still his Robert.
Next thing Aaron knows, he’s in front of the closet, reaching for the box. He brings it to the second bedroom. It doesn’t feel right opening it in the room he shares with another man, like it’s a betrayal to Robert John.
Taking a deep breath, he opens it. A watch. A baby book. A half-empty bottle of cologne. A little teddy dressed in a suit. Scraps of paper. Two rings. His hand shakes as he reaches for one of the notes.
“Had to meet Jimmy early and didn’t want to wake you. Text later and we’ll grab lunch. I love you.”
Aaron runs his fingers over Robert’s handwriting, his hand shaking as he traces over his “I love you.” Then he picks up the watch, turning it over to look at the engraving. A drop of water lands on his hand, and it’s only then that he realizes he’s crying. He stares at the watch. The tick, tick, tick, tick, tick lands deep in his chest, like a countdown to something he can’t avoid.
Aaron knows the right thing to do is to toss everything into the bin. He’s married to someone else, and he loves his husband. He’s happy, safe, and content. But he gently lays the watch back in the box and slides the box back to its place in the closet. He thinks about the life he’s built. About John, who is due home any minute. About the safety and steadiness he’s finally found.
And then he thinks about Robert.
Aaron's phone buzzes on the dresser. He picks it up, swiping away the calendar notification. He hesitates before opening a new message box. He knows he shouldn’t. No good could come from it. But before he can stop himself, he’s typing out a message and hitting send.
He slides the phone into his pocket as he hears the front door open. He takes two steps before he feels the buzz of a notification. He smiles as he pauses in the hallway.
John is calling out for him. Aaron swallows, forcing his smile wider as he turns towards his husband. But in his pocket, his phone buzzes again.
And even as he leans in to accept John’s kiss, Aaron knows exactly what the notification says. Because deep down, some things are always an inevitability.