Crossing the black wrought iron gate was like stepping foot into another dimension: the sounds of the city were absorbed, leaving only vague echoes that were lost as soon as you draw away from the entrance; the silence was like a blanket that was wrapped around the body, guiding you to the person that you came to find. Brian came up to one of the ponds and plants, leaving behind the path as he walked on the ground still damp for snow disbanded in those days, although white spots were sticking out here and there as opposed to the dark brown of the earth. 

His mother’s grave was next to an old oak tree, whose leaves were still bare and covered by the winter coat. Brian sat down beside it, his knees closed to his chest and chin resting upon them. He never went there to cry and neither to remember times and memories that now were only those, memories: for that matter, he had the cafeteria, the apartment and the people who knew her and never stopped talking and reminiscing her. No, he always went there when he needed silent support so that he could speak until he had no voice, knowing that someone would always be there to hear him. 

That day, he had come there to take courage, to stop for a moment the world and trying to get the top of that puzzle that Nick had turned into since New Year's Eve. He wasn’t so deluded to believe that everything could be resolved and magically being fine again but he was trying so hard to put back together again their relationship. Instead of appearing sad and desperate for Nick’s departure, he had tried to do the opposite. And it hadn’t been hard putting up that façade because he was so darn proud and happy for that unique and rare opportunity and he wanted Nick to leave without feeling that apprehension around him because he was going to leave him there in New York all alone, without being able to do anything to erase his sadness if it ever appeared. But Nick’s behavior... Brian had no idea what was happening to him. 

The first thought, after days of minimal but essential messages and phone calls let play without ever answer, had been that he deserved that behavior. He had pretended to start all over again, without remembering, deliberately, the reason why they had to. And it had been an ice shower when he figured out the reality that Nick hadn’t totally forgiven him. Even more difficult had been accepting the fact that he couldn’t heal all the wounds left but he could only hope that they weren’t going to infect all that good they had managed to salvage. So he had deadened every stab with a smile, letting his guilt blocking every "why are you doing this?" questions that arose within him. But that revenge wasn’t the right way to erase the pain. And even continuing to pretend that he didn’t know what it was going on. They had to speak. They needed to speak, even if it hurt or it was going to be an ugly discussion. 

A breeze got up, ruffling his hair. Brian closed his eyes, thinking as always that the breeze was a caress that he had never forgotten. He took it as his mother’s approval of his intention and he finally felt read to face Nick and get back their happy ending. He opened his eyes and a sudden cough, which didn’t belong to him, forced him to look up and see a person who would never have expected to find.

****

"Kevin?" Brian murmured in surprise, looking at the boy in front of him. At times, it was strange to consider him like a brother when they only had a few family genes in common. They even didn’t look alike because the cousin was much taller than him, with black hair and two eyes that Nick would have struggled to find the perfect shade of green for describing them. But he was the only family that he had left. 

"Were you expecting someone else?" 

"Something like that."

The second question was implied, running between the two like a trickle of water on that path of mutual understanding that tied the boys: Kevin knew why Brian was there, in that place, and now wanted to know what had made him to come in that moment. 

"Nick is leaving. He’s going in Europe.”

"How much will he be gone?"

"Six months."

Kevin stared at his cousin but as always the minor was damn good at hiding any negative emotion. "How are you holding up?"

Brian looked down as his fingers as they toyed with a little dried-grass. "At first, I was terrified. Everything was repeating and Nick was going to be another person who just walked out of my life, leaving me alone. Oh, I know I’m not technically alone. - Brian admitted, anticipating what Kevin was going to say. - But it's different. Coming home to find someone waiting for you, to have someone who is there for you at all times, who knows when to give you a hug without explanation or someone to just spend the evening watching old movies that he isn’t even interested in. I will miss all this, not only his physical presence. And the truth is that it will be damn hard to go back to living alone or being alone. But ... "

"But what?" Kevin asked curiously.

Brian turned his gaze to the grave next to him. "But this time is different. Because I know that Nick will come back to me. So I'm not afraid of these six months of separation because I know what it means to live our whole lives without having a person you love. " He spoke, exchanging a look that Kevin had seen on his face a few times. It was the look of one who had understood one of the most important truths in life, a wisdom that made him much older than him, despite the age difference. He had always been afraid for Brian, afraid that he would never open to anyone, or hiding his pain behind mere palliatives such as alcohol or drugs. Instead here he was, with a normal life, a life that had been built despite the most important people in his life had slammed the door in his face.

"Why don’t you go with him?"

The silence broke in between the two cousins r03;r03;and the cawing of a crow rose from a nearby tree. After a few seconds, the sound of approaching footsteps joined that melody, stopping a few inches behind Brian.

Before he could turn to see who it was, Nick's voice sounded loud in the silence, although it was barely a whisper.

"Yeah, why don’t you come too?"