Time Changes Everything, Yet Nothing at All

Chapter One: Time Changes Everything

Pittsburgh

Friday, February 22, 2002

11:47 P.M.

"I was practicing the Beethoven; it sounded like shit and I realized it's all your fault."

"My fault?"

"I tried to forget about you but I can't. You're all I think about."

He's looking at me with so much pure admiration and love. He wants me, and only me. Someone finally wants exactly what I want, exactly what I need. He reaches his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me in towards him, hard, fast and strong. His tongue plunges deep into my mouth; he's kissing me with so much passion that I can feel the love he has for me pulsing through his veins. He's practically panting as he pulls away from me, giving me three little nips on my already well ravished lips.

I open my eyes to look at him when I notice his eyes are already extremely focused on something behind me. He's staring intensely with these saddened yet compassionate big brown eyes, and at that moment I know; I just know who it is. I feel him before I see him, and as I turn my head around slowly I see him standing there just staring at me.

He looks away and pulls off his mask before returning the gaze that cuts through me like a knife. As he pulls off his mask I see his emotional mask slip as well. I've always been able to see past the Brian Kinney fuck 'em all I don't give a shit attitude. I've always been able to see past his mask and somehow break past his walls. Just for a short few seconds I see emotions flickering across his beautiful hazel eyes, emotions I never thought I would ever be the cause of. Shock. Disappointment. Pain.

At that very moment it all hits me; I can't believe what I've just done. I see his emotional mask slip back into place as he blinks a few times and parts his lips, letting his shock show for just a second before returning them to a firm, straight line. He's never looked at me this way before. He looks so betrayed, yet like he knew it was coming. He's looking at me like he expected it to happen, but didn't actually imagine it ever would, especially not like this. The look on his face says it all; it was like he was saying, 'Well, what are you waiting for?' Like that first night at his loft, he asked me if I was coming or going, however, I realize with startling clarity that I don't have the luxury of choosing now, not that I deserve it. I made my bed, and now I have to lie in it.

Nothing in my entire life has ever cut me as deeply as the look that he is giving me now. In his eyes I see my biggest fear, I see him letting go, letting go of whatever it was that we had. His eyes are telling me to go on, be happy. At that very moment I realize this is our goodbye and I feel physical pain shooting straight to my heart, or what's left of it anyway. I can't stand the physical sickness and pain I'm feeling like nothing I've ever experienced before. I feel the backs of my eyes stinging with a floodgate of tears threatening to fall at any given second. I quickly look down away from his penetrating stare, blinking back the tears as I feel the bile start to rise in my stomach. I'm going to be sick and I know I can't hold back the inevitable breakdown any longer. I have to get out of here before I lose control and fall to my knees and end up sobbing like the pathetic excuse of a man that I am. I truly can't think of doing anything worse than what I just did; I betrayed him in the worst and deepest way possible. I look back at him once more as if trying to memorize every perfect line and detail of the flawless 'face of God' before I walk out the door. At this very moment someone could stab me in the gut and I wouldn't feel a thing. I deserve it, though.

I knew this had to happen eventually. He couldn't give me the things I need, or as he says, he won't give me the things that I need. I don't want him to, though. I wanted to change him at first, but now I realize he shouldn't have to, nor do I want him to. If something is meant to be, it should just be without having to be changed at all. He deserves someone that accepts what he wants to offer, and I deserve someone that wants the same things in life as I do. Ethan wants to love and be loved by one person, he wants romance, but most of all he wants to love me.

As we're making our way outside Babylon I realize there is no looking back now. It's time to begin a life with Ethan, a life that we both want together. Whether I'm ready or not, it's time.

New York City

Friday, August 7, 2020

6:48 A.M.

"Dad, come on!"

"Dad, seriously, I'm gonna be late get up!"

"Daaaadd!"

I slowly blink my eyes and feel a stray tear fall down my cheek. Shit, not again. What time is it? Piece of shit alarm clock, I swear it only works when I don't actually need to wake up for something. "I'm almost ready, I swear," I yell as I throw myself out of bed. Fuck, my head feels like it's going to spontaneously combust. I drag myself over to the closet and throw on my big comfy grey NYU hoodie decorated with multiple paint splotches all across the front and down the sleeves. No need for me to dress up, there's absolutely no way I'm going anywhere but back to bed today.

This is undoubtedly the most painful and hardest day of the entire year for me. It takes everything I have inside me to drag myself out of bed every year on Bryson's birthday. So many things could have been different for not only myself, but for Bryson, too. If only I hadn't been such an asshole and left with Ethan that night, then I might have been able to at least attempt to repair what Brian and I had. I could've given Bryson such a better life with Brian. Of course Brian didn't want a kid and has this ridiculously stupid idea in his head that he would be the worst father in the entire world. He wouldn't be, though, he would've been an incredible father and I would've shown him that.

I hurry my way down the stairs to see him staring up at me with a 'you've got to be kidding me' kind of look. "If this is your version of what "ready" looks like it's scary to imagine what you not being ready looks like," he says. I roll my eyes. As I get down to the bottom step I lunge towards him and envelop him in a big bear hug while speckling him with little kisses all over his face.

"Oh, God, Dad, please stop, I'm begging you," he says while trying with all of his might to slip out of my tight grip. "Dad!"

"Alright, alright," I say as I pull back from him.

I place my hands on his shoulders and look up at him. I can't believe he's already seventeen and a senior in high school. I smile and say "Happy Birthday, squirt."

"Dad, I'm seventeen and like 5 inches taller than you. If anything you're the squirt."

"Alright then stud, big man", I teased while ruffling his hair.

"Okay okay, stop already I'm gonna be late!"

I walk towards the front door and grab the keys from the side table.

"Uh, Dad? It's bad enough I have to be driven to school at 17, let alone with a guy that broadcasts to everyone that he literally just rolled out of bed. Could you please at least ditch the old man slippers?"

I look down and sigh; today is definitely not my day.

As we're pulling up to the school I look over at him again and realize how lucky I am to have the world's most beautiful son.

"Dad, you've been staring at me like that the entire drive here, you're freaking me out," he tells me with a worried gaze.

I smile at him and say, "I love you, Brys."

He pulls me into a hug and says, "I love you too, Dad."

I smile with watery eyes as he gets out of the car. "3:00 today, right?"

"Yep, try and remember to wear your shoes when you come to get me this time, gramps."

"Ha, ha very funny; have a good day, SQUIRT," I yell with a wink. He turns around and glares at me once more before making his way up the sidewalk. I smile as I put the car in drive and make my way back home for a day full of reliving the past through memories, its all I have left of him.

I seriously think there is something wrong with me. I mean, how many times can a person have the same exact dream? Actually, more like a nightmare. Aren't dreams supposed to have some sort of deep psychological meaning or something? If so, what on earth is the meaning behind reliving the biggest mistake and regret of my entire life? I mean for God's sake I torture myself with thinking of the past enough. How could someone ever possibly forget the exact moment that changed their entire life and future? I most certainly don't need recurring nightmares reminding me of what I've lost and will never have again. Whenever my mind wanders it goes back to the same exact memories every single time, and has now for eighteen years. Eighteen YEARS. Yep, there is definitely something wrong with me.

As I'm making my way up the stairs I realize that I need to at least try to look my best by 3:30 when I pick Bryson up from school. My God, how much shittier could I possibly be? My son had to wake ME up on his seventeenth birthday so he wasn't late for school. I think it's supposed to be the other way around. Only Brian could manage to affect my daily life without saying an actual word to me in eighteen years. Can't get much more pathetic than that. God forbid I actually go one fucking day without Brian Kinney on my mind.

As I'm opening up the medicine cabinet in the bathroom I realize I look just as bad as I feel. Dear God what I would give for an aspirin that had an immediate affect. It's going to take me hours to even attempt to look like I didn't just get run over by a car.

I pull my hoodie up over my head and slip out of my sweatpants as I turn on the shower and wait for the water to heat up. I step into the shower and am immediately bombarded by the thoughts I have literally every single time I stand there and feel the water washing over me. Brian. Like I said, pathetic. I feel the water trickling down my neck as I lean my head back and close my eyes. The second I close my eyes I instantly regret it as the image of Brian slamming me against the glass shower wall and licking the spot right below my ear driving me crazy pops into my head. I look down and I'm hard as a rock, it would be impossible not to be. If anyone could get a man instantly hard while being over 300 miles away it's Brian fucking Kinney. Fuck.

I reach down and slowly start stroking myself. Ah, this is just what I need. I start stroking faster and faster as I feel the tingly sensation in my balls right before I know I'm gonna cum. I throw my head back, let my eyes drift shut and see Brian. I let out a strangled groan as the cum pours out of me, drenching my hand. I brace myself against the shower with my arm. With my eyes still shut I start shaking as the tears and pain swallow me whole. I feel the same exact way I felt at Babylon that night eighteen years ago; shame, pure and utter shame.

I slide down the glass shower wall and just let myself fall apart. I don't know how it's possible for a day to be the best day of your entire life but the most painful as well, but that's exactly what Bryson's birthday is to me.

Bryson is all grown up now and will be going off to college next year. He'll be gone in a few months. My job raising him is done; now it's officially too late for me to give him the life with the other father that he deserved. It's too late, and it's all my fault. It was never supposed to be like this. Brian was supposed to be the person that I raised a child with and spent the rest of my life with. Instead I chose Ethan, and now I have to live the rest of my life with not only having days like these full of excruciating pain and sorrow, but causing unintentional pain to Bryson, too. What the fuck is wrong with me?

After breaking down in the shower like a fucking sixteen-year-old girl for God knows how long, I finally pull myself up and step out of the shower. As I wrap a towel around my waist I stare at myself in the mirror again. I need to fucking get it together and stop acting like a pathetic little faggot. Today is my son's fucking seventeenth birthday.

Bryson. God, I truly cannot imagine my life without him. While of course I wish things could've ended up differently with Brian, not once have I ever regretted the way the rest of my life has turned out. I couldn't ask for a more perfect son; he's absolutely everything to me.

I still can't believe he's going off to college next year; he's grown up so fast. It feels like it was just yesterday that I was taking him to his first day grade school. He was so nervous; he changed his outfit six times and I teased him, telling him that he was being a total girl. I feel a huge smile forming across my face. Great, I'm turning into my mother.

I spread the toothpaste across my toothbrush and look up at myself in the mirror once more. "You're better than this, you're stronger than this," I tell myself. My son has been my main source of happiness from the very first time I held him in my arms. I smile as I remember; he's all I need, all I'll ever need.

New York City

Friday, August 7, 2020

1:26 P.M.

I feel long lanky arms squeezing me from behind as I look up and see Emma looking down at me with the biggest smile plastered on her face. "Can't breathe," I gasp out while trying to catch my breath. She unwraps her arms and jumps down to the seat next to me and practically screams "Happy Birthday!" into my ear. "Jesus Em, broadcast it to the entire school why don't ya." "Well, why didn't you just say so?" she says as she quickly rises to her feet. I roll my eyes as I pull her back down next to me. She grins at me while stealthily stealing a Dorito from my plate.

"So, whatchya got planned for the big day?" I shrug as I take a drink of water and say, "Not too much, I think dad's taking me out to some fancy place for dinner tonight. I think I'm just gonna hang with him for the night." She just stares at me like I'm insane and finally reaches over and pulls out a hair from my head. "What the hell was that for!? I say as I scoot farther away from her. "Yep," she says, "Just what I thought, your hair is officially starting to turn gray from acting like a pathetic old geezer." "Oh my god you're such a drama queen. Just because I'm spending my seventeenth birthday with my dad does not make me some old man. I have like 100 more birthdays to celebrate after this one. He's been acting really down lately, he was practically crying when he dropped me off at school today." She scoots closer towards me and sighs, "Brys, I understand you love your dad but you have to start living your life, you're a senior in high school for God's sake. You're supposed to be having the time of your life not sitting at home with your daddy on your birthday on a Friday night."

The bell rings signaling that lunch is over and I pull her in towards me to give her a kiss on the cheek as I start to get up. She stands up with me and pulls me back towards her. "Bryson, I'm serious," she says. "I know I know. I've gotta go. I'm fine, I promise." I look back at her and give her a reassuring smile letting her know that I really am okay as I walk out the door and head towards my next class.

The last class of the day thank God. I love that I have art last period so I can allow the stress of my entire day to just pour out of my body and into my work. Ms. Diaz is going on about making sure we turn in our sketchbooks before we leave today. I pull out my sketchbook and put my pencil to the page as I relax and feel my mind begin to drift away.

I'm really worried about my dad. For as long as I can remember there are several times throughout the year where he will just completely shut down emotionally for an entire day. I don't think he realizes I notice when he does but I always do, it's pretty hard to miss the sad empty faraway gaze his eyes show.

It's been happening a lot more lately and I don't know what to do. I'm starting to feel really guilty and even more worried about the fact that I'm going to be moving out and going to college next year. I can tell it's already really affecting him, every time I bring it up I see sadness and fear flicker across his eyes. I really don't understand why, I mean it's not like I'm moving out of state or anything I'll see him all the time. The only thing that really gets to me is the fact that I'll be leaving him and he'll be completely alone.

I'm practically the only person he hangs out with on a regular basis. Sure, he has a few people he talks to every once in awhile or goes out for drinks with his co-workers after work sometimes. However, he hasn't even tried connecting with anyone since he and Ethan split which was over ten years ago. I've tried getting him to date before but he's always just laughed and said that he doesn't need anyone but me. I'm leaving next year, though. What happens then? It absolutely kills me to think of him being completely alone when I leave. He needs to have someone in his life to make him happy. He deserves to be happy.

I have to figure something out. Maybe Em can help me set him up with somebody; she loves all of those bullshit matchmaker shows. I feel something nudging my shoulder and I look over to see Nick looking at me with his eyebrows raised. Shit, did he say something? "Hey man, are you okay?" "Yeah yeah I'm fine just tired, why?" I say. "You looked fucking out of dude," he says. The bell goes off as I look up at the clock and see that its already 2:45. Shit. I look down at my sketchbook and see an empty page staring back at me. I've never gone an entire art class without something to show for it. Damn. I really must have been out of it to not draw a single thing.

I throw my pencil in my bag and close my sketchbook as I make my way up to Ms. Diaz' desk. I add my sketchbook onto the pile as I smile up at Ms. Diaz who is raising an eyebrow at me. I try to give a convincing smile and walk away but I hear her heels clicking on the tile coming towards me. Crap, I really need to learn to mask my emotions better. I sigh as I turn around to face her and she's giving me a strict 'don't bullshit me' look. "So, you wanna tell me what's going on today?" she asks. "I'm just really tired, that's all I didn't get very much sleep last night and was almost late today", I say. Technically that isn't an actual lie. She starts opening her mouth to say something but I stop her and quickly make my way for the door as I say, "Sorry, I gotta go. Have a good weekend!"

I make my way down the hall and up the stairs as I scoot my way past a couple that is making out and practically humping each other on the staircase. Gross, people like that make me wanna fucking hurl.

I finally weave my way through the hoards of people and enter my locker combination. I sling my backpack off of my shoulder and start unzipping it as I feel hands come up behind me and cover my eyes. I hear a high-pitched girly voice say, "Guess who?" I smile and say "Hmm, JLo?" I hear her giggle as she pulls her hands away and says, "Oh please, Jennifer Lopez only wishes she could look half as good as I do." I finish putting my books into my locker and slam the door shut as I turn around laughing. I give her a kiss on the cheek and say, "Well of course Em, every girl wishes that." She smiles and slaps my arm playfully.

All of a sudden she gets a devious look on her face and asks, "So are you ready for the best gift ever?" Uh-oh, I know that look. "Oh Em, having you as a best friend is the greatest gift anyone could ever possibly ask for", I say with a smirk. She rolls her eyes and says, "Well duh, but no. I mean a gift that only someone as fabulous as me could possibly get you", she explains with a smug grin on her face. Great, now I'm really getting nervous.

I see her pull out two plastic cards from her bag and hand one to me. What the heck? I look down and inspect the card more closely and see that it's a fake ID. Oh shit. I look up at her and see an amused sparkle in her eyes. "You can thank me for being the most amazing best friend any time now", she says. I smile at her and say, "And what do I need this for exactly?" I don't know if I actually want to know the answer to that. She smirks and answers, "Well you'll need it for tomorrow night of course silly." I groan inwardly, I knew she had something up her sleeve.

I quirk an eyebrow at her and she sighs. "We're going out tomorrow night, a fabulous best friend like me could never live with myself if I stand by and allow my best friend to mope around and become an old man before he even makes it to the age of eighteen. You're welcome", she says as she smiles up at me. I shake my head and laugh before I sling my arm around her shoulder and say, "Alright, if I go out with you tomorrow night will you stop calling me an old man every five minutes?" She bumps my hip with her own and says, "Maybe, I guess it depends on if you dance your age or like a stiff old geezer with all of the hot sexy men on the dance floor." Wait, what!?

I whip my head around and stare at her, "Wait a minute, what did you just say?!" She puts her hand on my shoulder and sighs, "Bryson we're going to PULSE tomorrow night and you're going to dance with hot sweaty men all night long." I just stare at her with my mouth wide open in shock; we're going to a gay dance club!?

I think she sees how freaked out I look and grabs my face with her hands, forcing me to look into her eyes. "You're going to be fine, you're going to have the absolute time of your life. For God sakes Bryson you're going to at least kiss a guy before you graduate high school if I have anything to do with it." Shit, she does have a point, I haven't even kissed a guy and I'm a freaking senior in high school. Maybe going out tomorrow night isn't the absolute worst thing that could happen.

I look into her big hopeful brown eyes and I just know I can't say no to her. I bring her in towards me for a hug and whisper thank you in her ear as she smiles against my chest and squeezes her arms tighter around me. She really is the best friend anyone could ever possibly ask for.

New York City

Friday, August 7, 2020

3:04 P.M.

I'm sitting in my car with the windows down and enjoying the feel of the fresh breeze sweeping across my face. It is such a beautiful day out today, absolutely perfect for my surprise for Bryson later. I can't wait to see the look on his face. My thoughts are interrupted as I hear the car door open and see Bryson.

He looks over at me with a shocked expression on his face while shutting the door. I see him smirk out of the corner of my eye as I turn out of the school's u-drive.

"Well, well, well, don't you look sharp? I guess even men your age can still clean up pretty nice if they have enough hours to spare," he says.

I smile over at him and say, "I've always looked this good, and always will. Age will never affect my dazzling good looks." At that he starts laughing so hard his eyes begin to water and I just roll my eyes. "How was school?"

He shrugs and says, "Same shit, different day."

I laugh and say, "You say that every single day."

He lifts his eyebrow and says, "Yeah, and?"

"Well, I mean, doesn't anything interesting or new ever happen?"

"Nothing ever worth mentioning. I don't really pay attention to all of the pathetic teenage drama and gossip news stories; they bore me. So, where are we going?" he asks.

"I thought we'd go home so you can change and I can give you one of your presents before we go to dinner. The reservation is at 5:30. Oh! Grandma called to wish you a Happy Birthday, so you need to call her back."

He nods his head and says okay.

I sigh and wait to tell him the same exact thing I have to tell him every single year. He knows it's coming. "Of course Ethan called, too, and left a message; there's another card in the mail as well." I glance over at him and see him grimace and turn his head to glare at me. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger," I say. He turns his head to look out the window and I wonder what's going through his head.

I don't understand why the fuck Ethan even bothers to call or send cards anymore. He never gets a call back. I mean, really, what the hell does he expect? I could care less that he left me and tried to make some big name for himself in the world as a violinist. What I will never ever be able to forgive him for is abandoning the little boy that was supposed to be the son that we raised together. Of course Ethan wouldn't give a shit about anything or anyone other than himself. There isn't a selfless bone in his entire body. Bryson didn't get to see that side of him, though; he only remembers him as the guy who was supposed to be his 'other daddy.'

I don't blame Bryson for holding hostile feelings towards him. I'm kind of glad in a way that Ethan left when Bryson was so young, though, that way he didn't get too attached before Ethan eventually decided to leave. Fuck Ethan. God, how could I not have seen through all of his bullshit before it was too late like Brian did? Brian. God damnit.

I pull into the driveway and turn off the car. I follow Bryson to the front door and as I'm unlocking the door my phone rings. I throw the phone over to Bryson and say "Grandma."

He sighs before answering "Hey Grandma."

I hear a loud "BRYSON!" screech through the phone and laugh as he holds the phone away from his ear. "Yep, the one and only, what's up?" "Thanks Gram, yeah I know, yeah we'll see each other in a few months, though, yeah miss you too, you didn't have to do that Gram, Yeah, alright, well, I gotta go get ready for dinner. Okay, I will; love you too."

He shoves the phone back at me and says, "My God now I know why you talk so much; she doesn't even take time for breaths in between words!"

I smile, "It's in the Taylor genes; you'll understand soon enough." He starts shaking his head back and forth as he holds his hand up in a stop motion and snorts, "No way! Thank God my body seems to have missed that specific gene."

"You'll see. Go clean up and put something nice on for dinner, and then I'll give you your present from Grandma and me before we leave."

He makes his way up the stairs and says, "Please; when don't I look nice? Not everyone has to try hard to look this good, Dad."

I chuckle; well at least he's got my confidence gene, that's for sure.

I go to my bedroom and take the box out of the closet as I finish putting one of the presents into a bag and start wrapping the other one. He's gonna be really shocked. I sure as hell know I was when Mom said she wanted to go in half with me on it. I carry the present over to the living room and turn on the T.V.; just another day full of more bullshit lies in the world of politics. I sigh and decide to watch it anyway. Bryson should be down any minute; he gets ready faster than anyone that I know. I really hope he enjoys tonight. I love seeing him smile. Nothing can brighten my day better than his smile.

He takes two steps at a time down the stairs and jumps past the last one as he makes his way toward the living room. I turn to look at him and I know it sounds like a ridiculous cliché but, my God he takes my breath away. He's perfect. My little boy is officially all grown up. As I look up at him I see a man now, a stunningly handsome man. He's wearing his charcoal grey, BOSS solid chambray dress shirt, matching black BOSS dress pants, and matching black BOSS Balman textured lace-up shoes. I've told him he could model so many times; he really could.

I don't know where he got the label whore thing from; he's just as bad as Brian. Shit, no.

He grins at me and says, "Well, I know I look hot but unfortunately we don't have the time for you to sit there and stare at me all night. We have a reservation, remember?"

I laugh as I get up with a shrug and say, "Just another gene you got from me. I see you need some help in the confidence area there, though, huh?" He laughs and walks away from me with that huge illuminating smile that brightens the entire room. God, he's so beautiful.

We go over to the couch and sit down as I reach over to retrieve the royal-blue bag that has Happy Birthday written in white cursive letters across the front from the coffee table directly in front of us. As I hand it over to him I say, "This one is from Grandma and me; she really wanted to help me be able to get you the best one."

He looks at it curiously and opens the bag, pulling out the layers of blue-and-white tissue paper. He finally gets to the bottom of the bag and reaches in to pull out the box. The second he gets it out of the bag he jumps off the couch with it in his hand and looks utterly shocked and overjoyed. He looks down at me and says, "Oh my- OH MY GOD! No way, there's no way! Dad! Holy crap!"

He smiles one of the biggest and brightest smiles I've ever seen in my entire life and tackles me down onto the couch with a big hug. "How, though!? It's $2000! I've wanted this camera for a year now! I can't believe it!"

He finally lets go of me and I chuckle, "So I guess this means you like it, then?"

"It's absolutely perfect! Thank you so so much! I can't wait to take hundreds of pictures!"

Ah, I love seeing him this happy. I knew he'd be surprised, but I had no idea he'd go this crazy over it. For $2000 it sure as hell better be the camera of his dreams. It's a Canon EOS 6D, whatever the heck that means; all that matters is that he loves it.

"I'm glad you like it. You'll have to call Grandma and tell her thank you too, I was going to get you a different one, but she said that you mentioned this one as 'any photographer's dream camera,' so we went in on it together. I wanted to give it to you before we left to eat, because I have a feeling you're gonna want to use it tonight."

He looks at me inquisitively and says, "Tonight?"

"Yep," I say as we get up and walk toward the front door. "You'll understand when we get there; you ready?" He nods his head as I lock the door. Gosh, I cannot wait for this. He's going to be even more surprised than he was with the camera. The look on his face will be priceless.

I pull into the parking garage and he looks over at me with an extremely confused expression on his face. We get out of the car and he says, "You made me dress up for some sort of weird picnic in a creepy parking garage?" I pull him by his hand towards me and we start walking as I say, "Just wait for it." It only takes a couple of minutes and he stops dead in his tracks on the sidewalk as he looks up with a glimmer in his eye and a huge, ecstatic grin plastered on his face.

He looks over at me and I just smile at the sight before me. Seeing him happy like this makes my entire life worth living.

"You're serious?" he asks.

I nod my head and pull him in for a hug and plant a kiss on his cheek. "I told you I'd surprise you one day, didn't I?" Ever since he was a little boy he would ask me when we were going to eat on the river. It was the most adorable thing. He literally thought that people got served their food on the river. As he got older he realized that it was an expensive restaurant where people ate; nestled under the Brooklyn Bridge, it overlooks the stunning New York skyline and the Statue of Liberty. He's been begging me to take him here for years now.

It really is extremely beautiful here. There is a gigantic park full of exotic plants, trees, and flowers, which leads to The River Café. I laugh as I look over and see him with his new camera already out and snapping away at the beautiful sights before him. We're getting closer to the entrance and I say, "Put that away for now; I don't want us to be late for our reservation that I made months ahead of time. We'll come back through here after we eat, I promise."

We make it to the entrance and it's absolutely breathtaking. The River Café is written in green above two large, green double doors; to the sides of the doors are large trees and shrubs with strands of white and blue lights strewn in between the branches and leaves. I open the door and see more beautiful plants in the center of the lobby. There's a young blonde girl with green eyes standing behind a dark wood podium that greets us with a cheerful smile and says, "How may I help you this evening?"

"Reservation for Taylor," I say.

She leads us through a long, thin hallway and into the dining room. She seats us at the table I reserved located right in the center against the wall in the room. "Your waiter will be right with you, enjoy your evening."

"Thank you," I say. I look across the table at Bryson and see that he is just in awe as I am. I can definitely see why this place is so hard to get into now; everything about it is absolutely stunning. The tables all have white silk tablecloths and a little dim light set in the center. The view is absolutely majestic; each wall has full-length glass windows giving you the perfect view of the city. I laugh as I see Bryson is gawking out the window like I have been; his big, blue eyes are gazing in wonder and I can't help but think how cute he looks.

I see a younger man wearing a white dress shirt with a black bowtie and black pants walking towards the table with two menus in his hand. As he places the menus down on the table in front of us he says, "Good evening, my name is Aiden and I'll be your server this evening. May I get you something to drink?"

I start to ask what kind of wines they have when I remember the hell of a headache that I had this morning and decide that water would be the best choice. I look up to reply and see deep, brown eyes speckled with light and dark green strands staring back at me and have to suck in my breath. Oh, God, I haven't seen eyes like that since…

I quickly look back down at my menu and slowly exhale. I try to slow my breathing and steady my voice as I say, "Um, yeah, I'll have a water, please. Bryson?"

He just looks at me like 'what the heck' and says, "Uh, I'll have a water, too, please."

"Alright, I'll be right back with your drinks."

I look up and Bryson is staring at me with the strangest look on his face. "What the heck was that about?"

"What are you talking about?" I say while trying to pretend I'm reading the menu in my hands.

He takes the menu out of my hands and places it back on the table. "I'm talking about the weird schoolboy crush act you were displaying just a minute ago. He's kinda hot; you should ask him out." I start blushing and immediately curse my fair skin for always betraying me.

I look up at him and make up the lame excuse that I had something in my eye and was trying to look down and blink it out. He just laughs at me and shakes his head as we both go back to looking at our menus. The waiter comes back and places the waters in front of us and asks if we're ready to order. Bryson orders a butter leaf salad and an organic chicken breast. I don't dare look up again as I order a butter leaf salad and a prime New York steak strip. Bryson starts talking about all of the different neat things that the camera can do and how he plans to incorporate its use into his art. I knew he talked about wanting to explore photography more and I hear the excitement pouring out of him as he explains how he is now able to do just that with his fancy new camera.

When he goes to the bathroom I stare out the window and watch the calming blue water sway back and forth and see the thousands of lights displayed on the skyscrapers. All I can think about are hazel eyes. Of course no one could ever even come close to Brian's perfect hazel orbs. No one could ever display the amount of emotions Brian has shown through his eyes. I've always believed that the eyes are the windows to the soul and Brian's eyes were definitely that. He could always easily hide his emotions from me if I couldn't see his eyes, but whenever I looked into his eyes he couldn't hide anything from me. When I looked into Brian's eyes I could always see the real him peeking through from behind the armor of the 'Stud of Liberty Avenue.' It didn't matter if his eyes were smoldering with lust or anger, firm as steel and looking cold as ice, warm with love or happiness, or glazed over with fear or pain. I could always see straight into his soul. I could see the Brian that he tried so hard to keep anyone from ever seeing. Those beautiful hazel eyes weren't just stunning strands of browns and greens. Those hazel eyes were never just eyes to me; to me they were where I was always able to see the man that I fell deeply and irrevocably in love with.

A little while after he comes back from the bathroom the food arrives and we both dig into the delectable food in front of us. The waiter comes back a little later to refill our glasses with water. As we finish our food the waiter comes back one last time and I feel him staring at me as he places the bill on the table and says, "Can I get you anything else tonight, Sir?" Sir? Ouch. How the hell old does he think I am? Now I know why Brian was so touchy with the age thing.

I know I shouldn't but I glance up once more at the waiter's hazel eyes, but there's nothing there; his eyes are empty. He doesn't have Brian's eyes. No one does and no one ever will. I'll never see the most perfect hazel eyes staring back at me ever again because Brian isn't here. He isn't in my life anymore; Brian is gone. I try my best to smile up at the waiter as I place my card in with the bill and hand it back to him, as I say, "No, that will be all, thank you."

I look at Bryson and I can tell he's about to say something, so I beat him to it and say, "I thought we could go out on the balcony so you could take some pictures of the great view and then head out to the park so you could take some more there, too. Sound good?" I think he knows not to push it anymore and nods his head while smiling back at me.

The waiter returns with my receipt and card in hand as I sign for the bill. He smiles down at me and winks before saying, "I hope you enjoyed your meal, gentlemen, have a wonderful evening." I look down at the receipt and whistle; the total came to $250 including a tip; they sure as heck won't be going out of business anytime soon. On the bottom of the receipt I see a wink face with Call Me- 917-347-1228 written in black ink.

Well, at least I've still got it. He wasn't too bad looking. I might have even given him a call if I wasn't going completely insane, that is. As we head out to the balcony Bryson whips his camera out of his pocket and snaps pictures like crazy. He's going to get some really beautiful shots with the moonlight casting down upon the water underneath the Brooklyn Bridge. He smiles a genuinely happy smile as he finishes up and walks back towards me.

I smile up at him in reaction and reach up on my tippy toes to fix his collar. Jesus, every time I look at him I still can't believe I could ever possibly create something so perfect. He has shiny blonde hair with strands of light and dark brown woven in giving him that dirty blonde look. He has big crystal ice baby blue eyes that make him look super innocent. He has gotten away with so many freaking things because of those eyes. And his smile! Oh God, it's so big, bright, and stunning, and so reminiscent of what mine used to be. Sometimes when he smiles his lips quirk to the right a little and he looks just like he did as a little boy, especially when he blushes. I truly do have the world's most beautiful son. He finally swats my hand away off his collar. He absolutely hates it when I treat him like a little kid in public. He gets so frustrated and embarrassed. As we return to the car, he snaps a few dozen more shots in the park and we make our way home.

We walk into the house just as it starts raining and I glance at the clock to see that it's 8:30. Jeez, I can't believe that it's that late already. "Watchya got planned tonight, Brys?"

He shrugs his shoulders and heads into the living room and plops down onto the couch as he says, "I thought I'd just hang with you tonight and watch some movies."

What the heck? It's a Friday night; he should be out having fun on his birthday. What's he wanna be here for? Then he looks up at me and I see it. He's trying so hard to hide it, but I still see that glint of obligation flicker across his big, blue eyes. I've seen that look before and each and every time it absolutely kills me. He hates leaving me alone at the house and feels guilty if he does. I feel like such a shitty Dad every time I see that look in his eyes. He's holding himself back because he senses that I'm lonely and I absolutely fucking hate myself for it.

I sigh as I smile down at him and say, "Why don't you go out for a little bit tonight, stud? Have some fun. What's Emma up to tonight?"

As he turns on the T.V. he says, "Em and I are going out tomorrow night." He pulls up the corner of his mouth into a smirk and says, "Plus you still have to give me my other present tonight, or did you already forget about that, gramps?"

I smack him playfully on the arm and turn around to walk up the stairs and say, "Of course I didn't forget." Okay, so I kind of did. Shit, I really am getting old.

"Come on, squirt, they're in my bedroom," I say as I turn around and start my way up the stairs. He follows close behind me and flops down on my bed as I go to the closet and open the door. I pull out the wrapped present and walk over to him, playfully shoving him over so I can sit down on the bed next to him.

He sits up and I hand him the present with a grin. He starts unwrapping it super slowly and I say, "Now who's being the Grandpa? Can you unwrap that any slower?"

He smirks and says, "I'm just trying to not tear apart all of your hard work. I can only imagine how long it took you to wrap this thing at your age."

"Ha-ha," I say sarcastically.

He finally gets it unwrapped and has his mouth wide open as he looks over at me. "Holy crap, Dad, thanks! The new iPad is supposed to be freaking incredible!"

I smile over at him and say, "Well, I got it to go with the other half."

He looks at me with his right eyebrow slightly raised questioningly. I get up and walk over to my closet again as I smile. He's going to freaking love this; it isn't even supposed to be out on the market until Christmas. Having connections in the art world definitely has its perks. I tell him to close his eyes and he just snorts at me. I turn around over my shoulder to look at him seriously and say, "I'm waiting." He rolls his eyes and says fine before finally closing them.

I lift it up out of my closet and place it right in front of him. Damn, that thing is freaking heavy. Right when I put it down he opens his eyes and flies up off the bed screaming, "OH, MY GOD!"

I laugh at him and say, "You were supposed to wait until I said open your eyes first. My God, you're impatient." He looks over at me and giggles like he did as a child. I haven't seen him this happy in years. He runs over to me and slams his arms around mine with a tight squeeze as he whispers thank you over and over again into my ear. I smile and say, "You're welcome, squirt. I kind of coordinated all of your presents this year. You can take pictures with the camera and it has the accessibility to wirelessly send whatever images you choose directly to your iPad. Then, as you already know, the iPad snaps onto the top of your new easel so you can paint and sketch absolutely anything you've captured on your camera and blow the image up on the iPad above your easel."

As he pulls back he kisses me on the check and has a huge smile on his face and a cheerful glisten in his eyes. He looks me straight in the eyes and says, "I love you more than anything, Dad. You're the best possible father a son could ever have; I hope you never ever forget that."

Oh, my God. I'm not gonna cry, I'm not gonna cry, I'm not gonna cry. I look back at him with eyes full of tears and pull him in for another hug as I say, "I love you more than you could ever possibly imagine, Bryson. You're my world, and don't you ever forget it." As I pull back and look up at him I wish that I could freeze this exact moment in time and never let go. Because if there's one thing that I've learned in life it's that time changes everything and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it.