They are able to change their flight tickets to fly out later that day. They don't talk while they pack their bags. They leave out a change of clothes for the airport and go down to the beach. Henry expects Alex to set himself up in a lounge chair, and doesn't expect him to get up for many hours. But as Henry sits down on one of the chairs, Alex holds out a hand.
"Will you go for a walk with me?" Henry looks up at the copper-skinned man, with his dark curls. He grabs his hand. For the first time in a while, it feels like there's a spark between them where their hands meet.
They walk down the beach like that, hand-in-hand. Alex is unusually quiet. He's almost always cracking a joke or complaining about the campaign. Henry has never had to fill the silence, he doesn't know how to. So they walk in silence, but the air between them is different, as if thinner. Henry had let Alex in, Alex is starting to let Henry, though there is still that final piece to fall. But for now, it is comfortable.
The breeze is light. The ocean nips at their heels with each wave. The sand molds to the shape of their feet with each step. They walk and walk. Henry knows they have hours until they have to leave for the airport, and still, it feels like they have walked so long they wouldn't make it back in time. Time is suspended, Henry has no idea how much has passed. The sky is still bright with the light of day.
Alex stops. He turns towards the ocean. Henry takes this opportunity to look back, and he can't even see the hotel in the distance. There's no one in this part of the beach. It's narrow, between a low rock wall that leads up to the road and the water, only maybe 20 feet wide. Alex continues to stare out at the never-ending blue. He finally drops Henry's hand.
"I'm so sorry, Henry," he says with his hands in his pockets, still staring at the ocean. "I don't think I can say it enough." Finally, Alex turns to face him. His eyes are dry. Good, Henry could barely stand to see Alex weep again over Henry's secrets. He shouldn't have let it get this far. Yes, he blames Alex, a big part of him is still very mad at Alex, but he has to give Alex a chance to explain, for now, they are in limbo.
"I..." Alex starts slowly, turning back towards the ocean. "I want to tell you. Everything." He sighs and drops his head. He gives it a little shake. Henry knows him, and he knows Alex is fighting with himself right now. That in that head of his, is a war. And the only one losing is Alex. Alex always had to be fighting, whether that is the defense lawyer or a political reveal or just his overworked laptop, and if there was no one left to fight, he would fight himself. Only this time, Henry is really afraid he's going to end up tearing himself into pieces.
"Alex... whatever it is, you can tell me." Silence. This time it is full of nervous energy. Surely whatever it is Alex is hiding, it must be bad. "Are you cheating on me?"
"What?" Alex turns so quickly, it's like the flash of a whip. "Never. Henry, I would never do that to you."
"I didn't think you could... but Alex, you're being so... mysterious. Whatever it is then surely can't be that bad. Tell me."
Henry watches as Alex turns both hands into tight fists, his head hung low, he shakes it. "I... I can't... It's not about us. It has nothing to do with us. It's about me. And you'll never see me the same way again."
"I will always love you though, Alex. Always. That is the vows we made. I meant it. Even though it was scary with all the people and the cameras, I meant every word. And I know..." Henry lifts a hand to softly cup Alex's cheek. "I know you did too. I'm sorry I doubted you there, for a second. I'm just... you got me twisted in knots here."
"I'll explain everything when were home," he finally says, looking up at Henry. "Just please, don't hate me." Henry can see the rest of what Alex wants to say in his eyes: don't leave me. Henry won't. He knows, somehow, they'll make it through.
"I could never hate you."
---
They, of course, don't have the whole first class section to themselves this time, but Alex directs Henry to take the window seat and seems to try to block him from the world with his body. Although he knows it likely wouldn't make much of a difference in them being recognized or not, Henry appreciates the effort.
As they settle into their seats, Henry realizes how tired he is, not having slept much last night. But he's doubtful his anxiety would allow him to sleep.
Alex, despite having slept through the night, also seems exhausted. It's like the weight of the world is bearing down on him.
Henry isn't sure what Alex needs to explain. Is there something more going on with the erectile dysfunction? Is he sick? Alex had started to look sickly again, and had puked again before they left. He was complaining of a headache as well, and the Advil didn't seem to be helping much. Henry still couldn't shake this feeling deep down that something is still off. Something is going on with Alex. And finally, Alex is going to tell him.
It's strange to have told his side, to have Alex know his truth, and to know Alex is still hiding something. It has to be bad if he wanted to wait to tell Henry.
Henry wracked his brain during a lot of the flight. Did Alex not realize what this was doing to him? What could it be? Was it something with the election? But surely that wouldn't be making him seem physically ill.
Did he have some disorder that was causing the erectile disfunction? Could he not have kids and was afraid to tell Henry that? They had originally talked about surrogacy, but Henry was more than fine with adopting; actually he was starting to prefer the idea now that there wasn't the pressure of continuing the royal line.
Could it be something awful, like cancer? Oh god, was Alex dying? Henry couldn't stand to lose Alex like he lost his father: slowly, painfully, watching him grow weaker and sicker. Alex is dozing now, head resting on Henry's shoulder. The first symptoms he had seen in his father were fatigue. He doesn't want to wake Alex, but he couldn't wait. He needs to be told he's wrong, that he's being crazy, before he has another panic attack.
"Alex. Alex!" Henry gently shakes him.
"Henry..." he slowly rouses and seems to register the tone of Henry's voice. "What? What's wrong?" he quickly asks.
"Please. I know you said you wanted to talk about it at home. But I need to know.... is it cancer?" Henry closes his eyes; he can't stand to look. He braces himself.
"No. Baby, no." Henry lets out his breath and opens his eyes. "No, no, no, no, no. Nothing like that. I'm...." he seems to want to say he's fine, as he always does, but he doesn't say it. "It's not cancer. I'm not leaving you, ever. Well, you're stuck with me for at least the next fifty years, after that I can't guarantee." He smiles, lightening the mood as he always does to help Henry out of his panic.
"Good." Henry feels his heart rate start to slow again. "Sorry for waking you."
"I'm glad you did, Hen. I don't want you to have to even think about that. Please... don't worry. Everything is going to be ok, I promise."
"Why don't we watch a movie?"
---
Most of the plane was quiet. The airports, the taxi, all quiet. Henry feels like his guts were all tangled, like the plane had been doing barrel rolls in the sky.
They unlock the front door to the brownstone for the first time in almost two weeks. Henry is almost surprised to find it looked exactly the same as when they left it in the early morning after Alex's bachelor party. It feels like so much has happened since then.
They bring their bags all the way to the fourth-floor bedroom. Alex quietly insists on taking the large suitcases. Their bedroom is still the same too, bed left unmade. Henry almost always made the bed in the morning, but hadn't had time that morning since Alex rolled out of it 2 minutes before they had to leave. He hates the idea of sleeping in dirty sheets tonight. Henry puts down the carry-on bags and goes to strip it. They shouldn't sleep yet anyways since it was 10am EST, though Henry had gotten very little sleep on the plane.
Alex is the kind of person who would leave around a packed suitcase until he needed something particular out of it. Henry likes to get unpacked right away. As Alex drops into the chair, Henry starts to unpack. He likes organizing things and putting them back where they belonged. It's soothing to him. When he is done with his own bag, he starts on Alex's: putting shoes in the closet, hanging up shirts, bringing the toiletry bag to the bathroom. He stands by the sink as he pulls things out. Toothbrush in the cup, deodorant in the mirror cabinet, comb in the drawer, and then in one of the separate outside pockets, Henry finds an orange bottle of pills. It's the kind from a pharmacist, but there's no label on it. Henry doesn't recognize it, but he can feel his heart rate accelerate.
He can't think. He takes the bottle in his hand and walks towards the doorway. Through the threshold, he sees Alex stand up out of the chair, a look of horror on his face. Henry holds the bottle, between his thumb and forefinger, out towards Alex.
Henry asks, "What is this?"