Connor looked up from his cell phone as Jude entered the room. It was late, nearly eleven, and he was more than ready to go to sleep. He could easily remember days when eleven p.m. was too early to consider eating dinner, let alone going to sleep. Usually Jude looked as exhausted as he did, but tonight, Jude's face was tense; his eyebrows were drawn tightly and his mouth was set in a straight line. He had a plain white envelope in his hands.

"What's that?" Connor asked.

"Dr. Nadine and I talked about it today," Jude said. He sat down at the end of the bed. "And after this, there's something else."

"Okay," Connor said, confused. "Is it a letter?"

"Yeah," Jude said. "Kind of. Um. Just … Just read it."

He handed it to Connor. It was a plain white envelope. There wasn't even an address on it. He turned it over. It hadn't been sealed, either. The tip of the envelope had just been tucked inside. Connor opened it. Inside, there was a single sheet of white paper. He unfolded it. It wasn't addressed to him or to anyone else, but it was definitely Jude's hand writing. Connor closed his eyes before reading it.

"Is this your suicide note?" Connor asked.

"Y-y-yeah."

Connor opened his eyes and looked down at the script.

I'm sorry. It had to be this way. I just want you all to be happy. Please, be happy. Mikey, I'm proud of you.

Connor had to read it at least ten times. Then, he looked up at Jude. "This was all you wrote?"

"I thought that was all that was needed to be said."

He didn't even sign it. "And now?"

"I could write a novel and still not say everything." Jude shrugged. "Um. Dr. Nadine didn't say that I should show it to you. But we talked about it. And I … I don't know. I wanted you to see it but I can't explain why."

"Well," Connor said, folding it back up and choosing his words carefully. "Thank you for showing me."

"That's not the important part," Jude said. "That's not what Dr. Nadine said I should show you."

"Okay. Then what is?" Connor put Jude's letter on the nightstand. He didn't know what to do with it. He hadn't even thought about Jude ever writing a note – he certainly hadn't noticed it on that day or any day after.

"I wrote you another letter." Jude placed a second envelope in Connor's hands.

This one had his name scrawled on the front. Connor untucked the back flap from the envelope and pulled the paper out. This one was a bit longer.

"What is it?"

"I wanted to tell you exactly what I was feeling and thinking. But it's kind of hard to say out loud sometimes."

Personally, Connor thought he and Jude did really well with telling each other what they were thinking. He glanced down at the letter. Maybe Jude hadn't been saying enough.

"Do you want me to read it now?" Connor asked. "Or do you want me to wait until you're not right here?"

"I'm going to go brush my teeth and stuff," Jude said. "I want you to read it now."

"Okay, I'll do that."

Connor waited until Jude had shut their bathroom door before laying out the letter. Jude's writing was small and cramped, as if he were hesitant. Still, Connor could make everything out easily.

Connor,

I thought about starting this letter at the beginning. But then, I thought, the beginning of what? That would be too much time for us to go through. And so, I thought, September. Because I'm hoping that was our new beginning. My suicide attempt is still hard for me to talk about; I think it will always be hard, particularly because I now regret it so much. And I don't want to get into detail, here, because that isn't the point of this letter. The point of this letter is you.

I know that I can be flip-floppy. Maybe not as much now, but I know I was. I know I'm hard to live with. I'm sorry. This isn't supposed to be a pity-party either. I just want you to know that I know I'm not easy to live with all of the time. I know that the way that I am is hard and that it means so much to me that you don't love me in spite of the way I am and what I'm going through. You just love me. And I feel that. I feel that so much and I can't put into words the way that it feels to feel that you love me.

I wanted to talk about you, because I think that it could be pretty easy to feel unappreciated. You do everything and you don't get much for it. Mikey is six and even though we know he loves us, sometimes it's easy to feel run over by him. I'm just as bad, if not worse. But I see it. I see everything you do. I see how hard you try, even though it's frustrating for you and you must be cursing me over and over in your head. I wouldn't ever blame you if you did something like that. I would want you to tell me. I want you to share with me, even the bad stuff. We're here to share everything. But, Connor, there's one thing that I have to say above everything else.

Thank you.

Thank you for working so hard at your job, just to look up from your desk and work so hard for me. Thank you for all the effort you put into making lunch and getting me out of bed. I know you're trying so hard to not be the person from the past couple of years, and I need you to know that you aren't. You're the boy that I met all of those years ago, with your big, sweet gestures and those eyes that see right through me. You're the man that I can count on. You've changed so much. I don't know whether it was the separation or if it was being forced into this weird, protective role. But, I'm proud of you, even for the way that you've been treating our son. He's so happy.

I don't know if I ever said thank you, though, for saying yes in the hospital waiting room. For agreeing to come back, even though we were so far apart and it wasn't even close to fair to you. It would have been so easy for you to say no and go back to your life and for nothing to change. But my whole life changed again and, just like always, you were right there for it. I wouldn't be half the man I was if I had never known you.

I think I wanted this letter to say more than I ended up writing into it. I just wanted to make sure you knew how much I appreciated you and how much I know what you do. I'm proud of you. And, I love you. I know sometimes it seems that I don't or that I'm unsure of us. You never look like you doubt me but I'm worried, on the inside, that you do and you just don't want to stress me out. Sometimes I worry you do that. But I want you to know, Connor, I'm sure. I'm sure of us. I'm sure of us having a future. I'm so in love with you. I know it's taking us some time to go from here to there, but someday I'm going to kiss you in our kitchen and listen to our son say 'ew' and hold your hand in public and introduce you as my husband and, when we've been married fifty years … Well, I don't know if we'll ever find this funny, but we'll agree it made us stronger. Thank you, for being strong when I couldn't be.

Connor carefully folded the letter and placed it on top of Jude's suicide note. He put his face down in his hands, tightly closing his eyes. It seemed like he was stuck there for an eternity, until the bathroom door creaked open.

"Connor?"

"Come here," Connor said, his voice muffled.

He listened to Jude pad across the floor and felt the tilt of the bed as Jude sat down next to him. Jude started rubbing his arm, but Connor just threw himself against Jude, tucking his head against Jude's shoulder.

"You're crying," Jude realized. "Connor, I'm sorry."

"I need you to tell me something."

"Anything."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you ask me to come stay with you?"

"I didn't want anyone else to know. That was a big part of it and you knew that. I never expected to explain myself. I never expected to have to deal with people knowing what I had tried to do. I had thought, once, that if it didn't work out, if somehow I lived, that things would just go on the same. I didn't factor anyone else into it. But you knew."

"So you were scared?" Connor surmised. "Because I knew?"

"Yes, but don't say it like that. That's still not why."

"Then why?"

"Because I was selfish," Jude admitted. "Because I wanted you to save me because I knew you could. And, I guess, I was testing to see if you would. Hope … hope is dangerous, you know that. Hope is it being months after you moved out and I'm still crying myself to sleep and hoping to get a call from you anyway. Hope hurts. And I didn't want to hope. Hope and disappointment had put me where I was. But, that was the closest you had been for years practically and I … I thought one more chance. If neither of us took it, I knew things wouldn't change. And I wanted them to change back. To when things were good."

Jude was crying now too; he was taking long sniffles between his words.

"I never stopped loving you," Jude said.

"I never stopped loving you either," Connor whispered. "Thank you for the letter, Jude. It meant a lot."

Jude squeezed him tightly.

"I didn't want you to feel unloved or unappreciated," Jude whispered. "I never want you to feel anything close to what I felt."

"I don't, Jude," Connor promised. "It's nice to hear, but I know."

Jude was petting the hair on the back of Connor's hair. He played with it for a long while and then he sat back enough to see Connor's face. He cupped one hand around Connor's jaw. "I started calling you sweetheart when we were seventeen."

Connor nodded. "Yeah."

"Because of the poetry unit. And … Mr. Mr. Oh. What was his name?"

"Gould," Connor supplied.

"Right. Gould. He had this book of Valentine's Day poems. And, there was this one … It had sweetheart in the last line. That's why."

Connor nodded again. "Do you remember it?"

Jude paused and then he admitted, "Yeah. I memorized it for that Valentine's Day and I never really forgot it."

Connor dropped his head away from Jude's hand. Instead, he rested it on Jude's shoulder. "Prove it."

Jude secured his arms around Connor. He rested his lips closer to Connor's ear and whispered, "So often when I am embracing you, it seems that you exist in this world only because of me and I exist because of you. It's not easy to wander in this world and not lose one's way, but the greatest happiness of all is in giving joy to one's beloved. And if the king can have his throne, and if the bird can have his Spring nest, and God can have his heaven, then I, my sweetheart, I can have you."

Connor smiled. "It's as perfect as I remembered."

"My sweetheart," Jude repeated, "I can have you."

Connor kissed the side of Jude's neck. "I want to ask you something about the letter."

"Which one?" Jude's voice wavered.

"The second one. Um, you said … our fiftieth anniversary."

Jude nodded. "We'll be old. But I want to be able to celebrate it with you."

"You sure, though, that we'll make it?"

Jude nodded. "I keep telling you, Connor. I'm sure. About us and our future. We've got little things to work out, still, but our whole future is going to be big and grand and wonderful."

"I'm happy to hear you say that," Connor said, feeling his throat beginning to clog up.

"It makes me happy to say it." Jude kissed him. "But can I ask you something?"

Connor nodded.

"What did you do this year for our anniversary?"

"Oh. Um. I went to work. Then I did that cliché thing where I bought a bottle of whiskey on the way home. And I had that for dinner and cried myself to sleep." It sounded so pathetic. It had felt even more pathetic. "What about you?"

"I sent Mikey off to day camp and I watched our wedding video on repeat until he came home. Then I made him dinner. And put him to bed. And cried myself to sleep." Jude looked down, and then he leant forward again to kiss Connor's cheek. "Let's go to bed, okay?"

"Okay."

They crawled underneath of the covers and Connor turned out his light. In the darkness, they faced one another.

"I love you, Jude."

"I love you too, Connor."

Jude slid even closer to Connor. Connor pulled the comforter up around them and snuggled in. Jude fell asleep first and, though Connor was tired, he just wasn't quite there yet. In the darkness, he stared up at the ceiling. He thought about Christmas, which was much closer than he liked to think it was. Mikey was nearly delirious with excitement. He was nearly sure that there would be a puppy under the tree. Connor hoped that he wouldn't be too disappointed with what he found instead: a card with an adorable photo of his new puppy. Melissa had said that they could go and visit him on the twenty-eight.

In his arms, Jude shifted onto his stomach, but he didn't stray too far from Connor. He snorted and then his breathing evened out again. Connor couldn't help but smile. Jude was sweet and he was trying so hard. It was heartbreaking, in the most loving, fulfilling way possible. Connor had always loved Jude; Connor had always been happy with his family, and he never would consider having anyone else be a part of it. But since moving back in, he had fallen in love with his husband and his son and their life together. The little things, that Connor had never taken the time to notice before, was all that stood out to him now.

Connor reached out and touched Jude's hand. As soon as he did, Jude flipped around so that it was his left hand Connor had access to. He let Jude settle into sleep again, and then Connor picked up his hand. He couldn't help but think that there was no ring and there had never been any mention of Jude's ring at all. Connor closed his eyes. In the new year, they would talk about it. Now, was there holiday truce for Mikey. Even with the truce, they were moving forward.

And Connor was content.

Don't forget to send me playlist ideas if you have them! This week's songs are: Somewhere In My Car by Keith Urban; Counting Stars by Augustana; and Make Us Stronger by Emily Hearn.

So, on tumblr I'm: we are all of legend now (with dashes between every word). If you want to find my replies to anon reviews, add backslash tagged backslash anon dash replies. If you want to see anything I post about Hand In My Pocket, to my tumblr URL add backslash tagged backslash hand dash in dash my dash pocket. Punctuation is spelled out due to Fanfiction's restrictions. If you're having any trouble accessing the tumblr content please send me a pm and I can format it for you in a different way.

~TLL~