Chapter 18: The Ninth Hour
It must be three in the afternoon, but McGauran isn’t sure what day it is. Maybe Saturday. Yes, Saturday.
In Honoré’s bed, he turns to his side and rests his face on his hand to watch Honoré sleep. Finally, he allows himself to release the emotions he’s been holding back for days, even weeks. He won’t swallow back the tears of joy anymore. They run hot over his cheeks, tasting salty. Maybe like the sea? The truth, the one he’d been trying to deny, lessen, or postpone in the last years, overpowers him now. With a trembling finger, he touches Honoré’s face, and the contact of his skin, so soft and warm, causes him to collapse and hide his eyes in the pillow for a moment. He weeps quietly, letting the tension escape his body. He’s a man washed up on a welcoming sh
