There was something starkly masochistic about standing here; warm sand between his toes; early evening sea breeze tickling the hair at the base of his neck; that slightly sticky smell of salt and palm sap.

Noah watched a small and quaint boat bob as it made its peaceful way toward the horizon, perhaps to undertake a spot of night fishing.

Nobody could deny that Mexico's Gulf coast was a beautiful sight. But this serene setting did nothing to dull the discordant ache in his chest; the way his lungs burned painfully with each exhalation. Especially as it only served to remind him of the last time he stood in this exact same spot.

It was Luke's idea to get married in Veracruz. The excited blonde saw pictures of the coastal retreat on the internet and declared it perfect.

"Just like we are."

Noah smiled sadly to himself, remembering the grin Luke had then; the way his eyes sparkled and how energized he was while planning their wedding. How happy they both were.

Were. Past tense.

Four years.

It would seem that was as long as fate was willing to give to Noah; as though Luke were on loan to him somehow, and now it was time to hand him back.

The problem was Noah really didn't want to.

Especially as he recalled how Luke looked that day, gorgeous in his summer trousers and loose fitting cotton shirt.

Noah remembered as though it were yesterday. Luke's blonde hair all mussed up as usual, untamed and wild; an external manifestation of the irresistible personality that made up the man.

Most of all, Noah recollected how Luke looked at him with an undying adoration and how he laughed brightly and dimpled as the minister read their vows. He could still feel Luke's nervous hands in his own.

They were young and they were together. They were in love with their whole future stretching before them; home, children.

Luke wanted six children. Noah remembered laughing at him; fervently insisting that three was the maximum and more than enough. Luke pouted but agreed so long as two were biologically Noah's.

"So at times when you're away filming your latest blockbuster, I'll always have the larger part of you with me."

Noah counter-agreed on the added condition that their first born be Luke's. Luke sealed the deal with a kiss to his forehead.

Everything appeared so perfect then; their future confirmed and ripe for the taking.

But here he was, four years later, back in Veracruz not for a wedding this time, but for a quick, rip the bandage off, divorce.

Luke's request. Not his.

Emotionally scarred from the accident, alone and struggling to cope, Noah agreed to the divorce without complaint. Shaking he dropped the papers when he realised what had been delivered into his hands one ordinary Thursday afternoon. He'd never forget that feeling.

All hope of Luke ever coming back, gone in a second.

Divorce. What an ugly, unfair word; a knife to his gut. He sighed deeply; filled to bursting with pain, regret and a deep sense of failure.

Life lesson learned: heartache had the power to change people; drive wedges and break the strongest of loves.

Even theirs.

What now? Find a new home and dream when Luke was his everything?

How was he ever going to get past this?

And maybe he could. Maybe he could accept it, if he thought for sure it was want Luke really wanted.

...

Luke wasn't surprised to find Noah there. Of course it was natural both of them would return to the spot where it all began. He watched his husband from the shade of the rustling palm trees.

Luke couldn't stop watching the dark-haired man who stood by the water's edge; gazing sadly out at the sunset with eyes just as blue as the waves. He was struck all at once by Noah's sheer and intense loneliness.

With everything that had happened over the past few months; blinded by the fights and accusations; crippled by pain and loss; angry; Luke had almost forgotten.

Noah was like no other man on earth and could never be replaced; seemingly a pillar of strength but really, internally, just as beautiful and as fragile as a china doll.

And Luke, of all people, had been the one to break him.

He felt sick at the thought of what he'd done.

...

Noah sensed Luke standing nearby before Luke even began to approach him. As he turned, Noah instantly felt the spark of connection that had for so long been dimmed by the grief they couldn't share.

Luke must have felt it too because he moved slowly, holding their gaze.

They hadn't seen each other for a week. Not since the lawyer's office where it was decided they would rather speed up the legal issues by returning to Mexico, then drag the pain out for any longer than was necessary.

Plagued by guilt, Noah hadn't been able to look at Luke since the baby died. And maybe that had been part of the problem. Because now, seeing Luke, really seeing him, Noah felt strangely calm and relaxed; like the walls between them had somehow crumbled.

"Hi." Luke said simply.

It was the first word he'd addressed directly to Noah for more than two weeks. It was just one word, meaningless, merely a casual greeting. But Noah soaked it up. He missed him.

"Hi." He replied; swallowing back the 'babe' that habitually wanted to come out with that.

"You look good."

"You too."

"A little thin though. You've not been eating properly."

"You either."

They stared at each other in silence for a while; an acknowledgement of what they'd both been through.

"I thought I might find you here."

Noah nodded.

Luke looked out over the waves, hands in his pockets, "What hotel are you staying at?"

"The NH."

Luke rocking nervously back and forth on his feet.

"You?"

"Um…" Luke replied, almost guiltily, "…the Crowne Plaza?"

Noah gasped and frowned, "That's…?"

"Yes. The hotel we stayed at when… we were…"

Noah bit his lower lip, "Why?"

He shrugged, "Maybe I'm a sucker for punishment."

Sensing a change in Luke Noah shook his head, "What's the real reason?"

Deliberately ignoring his question and pointing his thumb back over his shoulder Luke asked, "Do you want to go for dinner?"

"Luke? What's the real reason?"

"There's a really nice seafood place I passed on my walk down and-"

"LUKE!"

Luke sighed, "Noah… Can we just have one night when we're not talking or thinking about all the shit going on? I am so tired." He looked to the sand; took a deep breath to calm himself, not wanting to fight. He raised his head hopefully. "I'm asking you to have dinner with me." Then after a pause and softly, "Please."

Noah observed him for a moment, but as usual could deny the man nothing, especially when he looked so vulnerable. "Okay. But you're paying."

Luke smiled and it had been so long since Noah saw him smile that his hand came up automatically to squeeze the blonde's chin between thumb and forefinger.

They both froze in realisation and Noah quickly drew back, clearing his throat, "Um… let's go…"

He gestured with his head and Luke nodded, following him nervously toward the main promenade.

...

Later, enjoying fresh seafood outside the simple restaurant they began to talk. Small topics at first; their work, family, the flight over. Hesitant conversation designed to keep them there and avoid the painful topic currently forming the epicentre of their whole purpose for being in Mexico. The issue that had kept them apart for months.

As Luke's lips held one conversation, his eyes were holding another and Noah grew quickly frustrated. He was first to break the bubble; "You're staying in the honeymoon suite aren't you?"

Luke was deep in the middle of a story about his sister Natalie's first boyfriend and Noah's sudden and unexpected interruption threw him completely back into reality.

"You're staying in our room, aren't you?"

"We should get the check." Luke replied, quickly looking around for the waiter to rescue him.

Noah leaned over the table to grab his hand, "No! We are not leaving until you tell me why."

Luke lifted his gaze slowly, brown eyes pleading.

"Why are you doing this Luke?" As he spoke Noah, looked down to where their hands were joined above the table, noticing how Luke didn't try to pull away; how their fingers fit so perfectly together.

Knowing Noah wasn't talking about the hotel room anymore Luke whispered, "I don't know."

"Because… Luke…? I'm only agreeing to this because I thought it was what you wanted." Then speaking through his teeth Noah said the four words he'd wanted to say for weeks, "Idon't want this."

Tears began to pool in the corners of his eyes as Luke shook his head from side to side, "The truth is… Noah… I really don't know what I want. I just know I don't want to hurt like this anymore."

"Maybe if you told me?" Noah suggested hopefully, grabbing at the chance that Luke might actually talk to him, "Maybe if you told me how you feel…"

"I…"

"Do you still love me?"

Luke nibbled on his lower lip as he nodded.

...

Kayla was three months old and they were the happiest they had ever been.

Noah couldn't stop saying how much he loved her; how much she looked like Luke; same hazel eyes, same soft blonde curls, same bowed lips. He never imagined he could love another human being as much as he loved Luke; but it was possible he loved Kayla even more.

It was the clutch on the car that failed according to the police report.

Numbed, Luke sat by Noah's side in the hospital for three weeks until the man finally opened his dark blue eyes.

The whole period over which Noah recovered from his physical wounds Luke avoided looking at him; barely spoke to him; definitely didn't touch him unless absolutely necessary. Luke simply performed his duty as husband like it was some kind of business contract; without showing Noah any kind of emotion besides blank and cold stares.

For Noah it was soul crushing.

But Luke hated Noah then, for being the driver, for not hurting as much as he did, for being unconscious when they placed the lifeless bundle in his arms.

By the time Noah returned home from the hospital Luke had already moved into the spare bedroom.

Of course none of it wasNoah's fault, but Luke didn't care. All through the following months he withdrew from his husband, his family and his friends.

And they would fight; long, awful fights that lasted into the night; flinging hateful words at each other. Noah accusing Luke of being selfish; of clinging to the death. Luke accusing Noah of not understanding; of not loving her as much as he did.

The truth was that Luke didn't want to heal. He didn't want to recover from the pain he felt – that would be a betrayal to Kayla.

At the funeral Luke stood apart from Noah; avoiding his eyes. The next day he moved out of their house.

...

"Why didn't you stop me from leaving?"

They were walking slowly along the lit promenade as they talked. The question brought Noah to an instant standstill a few steps ahead.

"Why did you let me blame you?" Luke continued.

Noah's shoulders shuddered as he sighed under the weight of his feelings.

"Noah?" and when the man didn't move, "Noah would you look at me… please…"

When Noah did eventually turn the blonde didn't need a spoken reply. Luke had his answer instantly; the blue eyes were clouded and heavy in guilt.

Knowing how much of that he was responsible for, Luke swallowed, "It wasn't your fault."

Sagging and broken Noah shook his head.

"No!" Luke insisted, hands reaching for him, arms encircling, "You listen, okay? It wasn't your fault! It was never your fault!"

Noah's tears were damp on Luke's neck as he struggled to say, "I'm sorry."

"I'm the one that's sorry. Because I let you believe it."

Pulling back Luke could see his pain reflected in Noah's eyes.

"I loved her." It was clear he needed Luke to understand that.

"I know you did."

"I've played that night over and over in my head Luke, trying to work out what I could have done differently."

Crying, Luke fervently shook his head.

But Noah continued anyway, "There was a traffic light I could have stopped at but I didn't. And I kept thinking maybe if I'd stopped at that light things would have been different? Maybe if I'd had the car serviced the week before? Maybe if I'd left earlier? Maybe if I'd not been so tired from working so much? Maybe, maybe, maybe, if, if, if…"

Luke gripped the man's face in his palms, thumbing tears from his cheeks, "It could just as easily have been me driving that car. It wasn'tyour fault, Noah, and I'm sorry I never said that to you sooner. I really failed you, didn't I?"

"We failed each other."

They flew into each other's arms, sharing their first real hug since the tragedy, holding each other in the cool night breeze as they cried and let go. It felt good. Safe.

"Will you answer my question now?" Noah asked into Luke's hair. "Why did you book into our room?"

"I wanted to remember…" Then almost like a change in subject, "It really hit me hard on the flight."

"What did?"

"You both could have died that night. I nearly lost you too." Luke squeezed tighter, feeling for the first time in ages that things might actually be okay. He allowed himself to believe that maybe they could fix what he was largely responsible for breaking.

Luke pulled back and took Noah by the hand, leading him to the beach where they were married.

"Luke, tomorrow…?"

"…tomorrow I'm calling the lawyers to cancel the divorce. If that's what you want?"

Noah grabbed him, spun him around, a happy relieved smile forming on his lips, "I never wanted it…"

Luke returned the smile and allowed Noah to kiss him; feeling like the weight of the world had lifted off his shoulders.

In just a heartbeat, away from the stresses and memories of home, they'd managed to achieve what they had struggled to do for months; forgiveness.

That night, they took the first few steps toward a new future.

-end-