This story may occasionally include explicit depictions of sexual acts between consenting adult males.  If you are underage or it is illegal to view this for any reason, consider yourself warned.  If you find this material offensive, I have to wonder why you came here in the first place.


This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to people, living or dead, is entirely a coincidence. As author, I retain all rights to this story, and it cannot be reproduced or published without explicit consent from me.  This work is copyright Fitz, 2013-2014.


I love to hear any feedback you have, be it positive or negative.  Send me an email with any comments or questions at


My wonderful husband gets a shout out for being so supportive and allowing me to bounce ideas off of him. I would also like to thank my editor, David. All errors that remain are mine, and mine alone.


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Chapter 10


I stared in shock at the large binder Scott handed me.

"This is what you wrote?" I asked incredulously.

The binder was two-inches thick, and stuffed full of paper.

"What is it exactly?"

"It's our story or, at least how our relationship began," Scott explained.

"In my first session with Will, he asked me if I wanted to get back together with you. I had a hard time answering him. Don't get me wrong, I really did, but at the same time, I couldn't help but believe that by staying away, I was protecting you and Zach. The really irrational part of me thought it was because people I loved kept dying, but it was more that I knew I was broken, and I thought I was sparing you some pain."

"Scott, you're rambling again. Get to the point," I said gently.

"Sorry. Anyway, Will gave me homework after that session. I was supposed to write down a few paragraphs about how you and I met, and how it made me feel. I did my best, but Will said it read like an encyclopedia entry. While I wrote about how we met, apparently there wasn't much of my feelings present. He told me to try again, but this time, he wanted me to write about when Steve died.

"I don't know what happened, but it just started flowing out of me. It felt so... so... I don't know... freeing. Instead of a few paragraphs, I'd written a few pages before I even realized.

"The next session, Will loved it, and asked me to try writing about how we met again. I probably still have it saved on my laptop somewhere, but it still wasn't that great. It appeased Will, but I wasn't happy with it. However, it served to really push me to work harder on getting better, and getting myself to a place where I felt like I was mentally fit enough to reenter your life."

"Ok... so you've explained the first few pages, but there's like five hundred pages here. Where'd they come from?" I asked.

"It's closer to six hundred," Scott admitted with a sly grin. "While attempting to write about how we met the second time, I realized my issue. I've always linked meeting you with Steve's death. A part of me thinks it was almost destiny, because if he hadn't died, I never would have met you. So after I finished with Will's assignment, I decided to continue after Steve's funeral.

"When I sat down to start writing, it was like something came over me. I only planned to work on it for an hour or so that evening, but the next thing I knew the sun was coming up. After that, I spent nearly all my time working on it. I actually just finished going over and making changes to it the day before your birthday. That's part of the reason I came over that night; I wanted to share it with you."

I looked at Scott blankly, trying to absorb everything he had told me. Scott hated even writing a grocery list, but had managed to write a book one that featured me, no less.

"Please, I want you to read it and tell me what you think. Full disclosure: there are a few things I sensationalized or adjusted a bit. I still think of it as non-fiction, but I may have taken a few creative liberties."

"Sure, Scott. I'm just impressed that you wrote this. You sure you didn't just find this online and change the names around?" I joked.

Scott glared at me, and I realized just how serious he was about his story.

"Sorry, I was just trying to tease you. Seriously, I'll read it, but it's going to take me a while. You couldn't have condensed it to a short story?"

This time, Scott cracked a grin. "I couldn't figure out what was unimportant enough to leave out. Trust me; I never expected it to go on for as long as it did. Take your time; just tell me what you think about it when you're done.

"Now, I'm going to get out of your hair. Just read it. I'll text you with the time for therapy on Monday."

Scott stood, and awkwardly tried to figure out how to make his exit. Finally, he just nodded his head and said, "I'll see you Monday."

I was actually impressed with his exit. There was no big goodbye, and he wasn't clingy. I half-expected him to throw himself at me when I agreed to try to work things out and was grateful he showed some restraint. I gathered up the remnants of our coffee, and carried everything inside.

I put the binder on my nightstand before entering Zach's room. He was sitting on the bed, his eyes red from crying. When he saw me, his face hardened, and anger flashed through his eyes.

"Hey buddy," I said softly.

"I saw you talking to him. You're gonna take him back, aren't you?" he demanded. Normally, Zach's bluntness came across as endearing to me, but I had hoped for the chance to butter him up a bit before turning the discussion to Scott. Obviously, that was not in the cards.

"Honestly, I don't know. I want to, but he's really going to have to work to regain my trust. All Scott and I decided outside was to give it a shot and see if we can make it work. That doesn't mean it will. But I also wanted to talk to you about it. Can I sit down so we can talk?"

Zach thought for a few moments, thoughtfully tapping his chin like he's always done. It was one of those mannerisms I always found adorable at any age. Finally, he nodded his head, so I sat down next to him on the bed.

"I know Scott hurt both of us badly, and I'm not trying to downplay the fact you're mad at him. He was hurting very badly, too."

"If he was hurting so bad, why didn't he just come back?" Zach demanded.

"Honestly, bud, I'm not entirely sure. He tried his best to explain, but they sounded like he was just making excuses."

"So why should we give him another chance?"

I thought about it for a second, trying to find an answer that didn't sound like an excuse itself.

"I still love him. He's been seeing Uncle Will to help how he handles things, and he's doing better. Maybe if he and I go see someone, and the three of us see someone together, we'll be able to forgive each other and be a family again. Would you like that?"

"No. I hate him. I won't forgive him. Ever," he announced, crossing his arms defiantly. I couldn't help but chuckle at his expression.

"I've heard you say that before. Remember when Tommy broke your toy fire truck? I've never seen you so mad."

"Yeah, but that was different; that was an accident!"

"That's not what you said at the time. You made it clear to everyone you'd never be friends with him again. I think that lasted a week."

"Yeah, but Tommy's my best friend."

"And Scott's your Papa," I rebutted.

"Dad, you're being unfair! You know Tommy breaking my toy and Scott leaving are two totally different things."

"I know, they are. I'm just trying to point out that things can change."

"But he promised!"

"I know, bud."

"'Sides, how can Uncle Will fix the fact he just walked out?"

"He can't, buddy. No one can change that fact. I can tell from talking to Scott that he wishes he could, but no one can change the past."

"If I was Marty McFly I could," Zach replied with a pout. He had recently discovered Back to the Future, and time travel had temporarily replaced dinosaurs as his biggest fascination.

"Yeah, but remember how every time they tried to fix the past, they ended up changing the present in ways they didn't expect? For all you know, you'd come back to the present and find yourself with a new mommy."

"Don't be silly, Dad, you'd never be with a girl!"

"Which is why I don't want you messing around with my past, mister," I joked back.

"But seriously, Dad, do you really think Uncle Will can help him?"

"Do you remember when you first came to live with Scott and me?"

"Not really. I remember some things, but not a lot. I remember Scott making me feel safe."

"He did a great job of that, but you kept having nightmares, and they really worried us, so you talked with Uncle Will."

Shortly after we moved in with Scott, Zach started having vivid nightmares of the night his mother lit their trailer on fire. Considering Scott's suspicion of psychologists, I was a bit surprised it took almost no convincing that Zach needed help. I asked Will to talk to him a bit, planning on getting a recommendation from him for someone who specialized in children. However, Will and Zach quickly bonded, and Will was more than happy to help.

"I remember the nightmares, but I don't remember talking to him. He helped make them go away?"

"He did."

"And you think Uncle Will can help Scott?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Do I have a say in you two getting back together? Because I don't want you to."

"In a way, I guess. I want to make it work with him, but I also want you to be happy. I know you're mad at him. Can you promise to try to forgive him? If you can't, we'll deal with that, but I want you to at least try."

"Can you promise me Scott won't leave again?"

I sighed. "No, and you know I can't."

"So why even bother trying when it doesn't matter?"

"Because we still love each other. We want to see if I can find it in myself to forgive him. But in order to do that, I need you to forgive him too. Do you think you can do that for me?"

"Fine, I'll try. But I'm not making no promises neither. And I'm only doing it for you. Can I go play with Beso now?"

I sighed at his use of a triple negative, but realizd Zach had hit the end of his tolerance for a serious discussion at the moment, and I knew it. The conversation had actually gone a bit better than I expected it would. Zach was angry, and I knew he would be. However, he was a child, and hadn't mastered strong emotions. I was hoping his strong hatred was more a reflection that he still felt strongly towards Scott. Maybe with some time, and a lot of therapy we could finally be a family again.

Zach took Beso out back and played, and I called Will. He seemed pleased with my decision to try to work things out with Scott. He also gave me the name of a family therapist he thought would really help us reconnect as a family. After getting off the phone with Will, I immediately called her and made an appointment for the following Wednesday.

I also took the opportunity to call Tom and tell him what was going on. He was skeptical of my decision, especially when I refused to give Scott's side. I figured Tom could judge me all he wanted until Scott felt comfortable telling him what he went through. It certainly wasn't my place to do so.

Leaving Zach to his own devices, I grabbed the binder Scott gave me, and sat down on the couch. Opening to the first page, I saw the title he chose: "Moving On: How I Lost the Love of My Life and Found My True Love". I turned the page and began to read.

I'm not sure what I expected from Scott, but it certainly wasn't what I was reading. Other than occasionally coming up with the copy for websites he was designing, he rarely wrote anything. However, the narrative was far more polished and refined than I would have believed Scott was capable of producing. Even though I was reading the same story he, and others, had told me in the past, I was completely engrossed in it.

However, I quickly noticed several little inconsistencies in the story compared to real life. I also realized Scott would want detailed feedback from me. I grabbed a pad of paper, and started making notes about anything that stood out as inaccurate or I wanted to remember to talk to Scott about.

Despite never having written more than journal entries, I was surprised by his panache for drama in the story. Given his flair for the dramatic, I probably shouldn't have been. Hell, he even had chapters and cliffhangers. I found myself quickly turning page after page. I had just finished chapter seven, which seemed to be leading up to the introduction of me into Scott's story, when Zach plopped down on the couch next to me.

"Dad, I'm hungry. Aren't we ever going to eat today?" he whined.

I looked at the clock, and realized it was almost time for dinner. With everything that happened, we missed lunch, and I'm surprised Zach held out that long.

"Sure thing, bud. Let me put this away and we'll go out. How does pizza sound?"

"Sweet! I love pizza!"

"I know you do," I said, ruffling his hair.

As we climbed in the car, Zach asked, "So what were you doing, anyways?"

"Scott wrote about our life together, and wanted me to read it."

"Am I in it?"

"I don't know, but I would assume so. So far, I'm not even in it yet."

"Can I read it?"

"We'll see. I think it might be a bit over your level, though. Do you want to read it?"

"I dunno."

"Once I finish reading it, maybe I'll let you read it, or at least parts of it."

I didn't like how Scott portrayed Will, at least up to that point in the story, and I wasn't sure Zach needed to read about Scott having sex with every random person he met in DC. While I could understand it, I wasn't sure Zach would, and I didn't want to poison his mind anymore against Scott if I could help it.

"Ok. Can we get a Hawaiian pizza?"

While we ate, I tried to bring up Scott a couple times, but Zach clearly didn't want to talk about him. He quickly changed the subject, but never got irritated, which I took as a good sign.

That evening, Zach and I cuddled on the couch and watched a couple movies together. Like he promised, Scott texted me the location and time for our therapy session on Monday. It was a nice, quiet night, and after Zach went to bed, I picked back up where I'd left off in the story.

I had just read about us taking Zach back to Atlanta when I realized the time. It was nearly three in the morning! I had been so enraptured about reading the story of our lives that time had simply flown by. I hated to admit it, but the story had made me laugh, and brought tears to my eyes. It brought back all the things about Scott I fell in love with.

* * *

By the end of the weekend, I had devoured Scott's story. I had also written several pages of notes. Most of them were minor things I wanted to talk about with him, along with a handful of things I noticed that were inconsistent with reality. Scott texted me Sunday night, asking if it would be ok to just meet me at the therapy session and return to work on Tuesday. I figured it would probably be best if we had at least one session under our belt before being forced to get along with each other in public, so I quickly agreed.

At the office on Monday, I told Bernice that Scott would be returning to work. Disappointment flashed across her face, but she quickly stifled it, and simply told me, "Whatever you think is best, Mr. Hudgins." Bernice assured me the games were still on track, and everything seemed to be falling into place nicely with them.

At two-thirty, I left the office and headed over to the psychologist's office. Even though I didn't share Scott's fear of shrinks, the last time I had actually stepped foot inside one was right after my parents' deaths. Between that realization and knowing what was ahead for Scott and me, I was decidedly nervous as I entered the office.

Scott was already there, looking at something on his phone. He looked up when I walked in, offered a weak smile and indicated I could sit next to him. I considered it, but I knew I had nothing really to say to him at the moment. After making sure we were checked in, I sat down on the other side of the room. I knew that would come up when our session began.

Fortunately, I didn't have to wait long. A few minutes after I sat down, a squat woman called our names. Her hair was an untamed mess of brown with gray streaks, but what really struck me was her face. She easily had the kindest face I'd ever seen, and everything about her demeanor just felt like she was the perfect 'mom'. Even though Scott and I saw her for over a year, I honestly can't remember her name, but I'm going to call her Dr. Smith.

We started by talking about why we decided to enter therapy. Never once did she show even the slightest bit of surprise or judgment as we each detailed the events leading to this point. Granted, my version was much shorter than Scott's. Once we finished, she looked over her notes for a moment before beginning.

"Now, I want to warn y'all, we have a long road ahead of us, and it won't all be rainbows and kittens. When you're in here, I want you to phrase everything as 'I feel...'. No one's perspective is wrong, and we have to work together respectfully if we want to accomplish anything."

"But Scott's perspective is just wrong. He walked out on me without a word..." I cut in.

"Noah, try that again, but this time with 'I feel'," Dr. Smith rebuffed gently.

I rolled my eyes, but did as she asked.

"Sorry, I feel like Scott just walked out on me without a word."

"And Scott, what do you have to say about that?"

"I don't know. He's right; I did. I don't know if my perspective is wrong. I know it was at the time, and I'd do anything to go back and take it back and do things differently."

"Unfortunately, you can't, but with a little help from me, we might get there," she said with a warm grin.

"I want to go back to the beginning of your relationship. Scott, would you say you were finished grieving the death of your first husband when you met Noah?"

And we went from there. Scott failed to tell me the first session was going to be two hours, so I had to excuse myself and have Tina look in on Zach. We spent most of the session talking about unaddressed grief that both of us had been ignoring. In Scott's case, his grief over Mia's death was exacerbated by the death of Steve, which he had managed to suppress, but had never really dealt with. We didn't venture into Scott leaving, but we talked about how I tried to cope with Mia's death. Part of me felt like we were ignoring the elephant in the room by focusing on the time before Scott left, but Dr. Smith insisted we had to start somewhere and work towards the bigger issues in our relationship.

It was a good session, don't get me wrong, but I wouldn't say there had been any major breakthroughs. However, I also knew it would be a long process and our issues couldn't be fixed over night. By the time we finished, I was mentally exhausted, but I still wanted to talk to Scott about his story.

He agreed to get a cup of coffee so we could talk. Once we'd ordered our drinks and sat down, I pulled out the pages of notes I'd made from what he'd written.

"First off, I think you did a fantastic job capturing our first few months together. There were several times where I felt like I was reliving the happy moments," I told him.

"Thanks, but I'm expecting a 'but' right about now."

"Yeah," I replied with a sheepish grin. "I don't know... I feel like there were a few times you took some major artistic changes. I'm not sure if I can actually think of it is as 'real', In fact, it's just enough that I think it's decidedly in the realm of fiction."

"What do you mean? Sure, I took a few liberties to try to tell a better story, it's more or less exactly what happened."

"I know, and I'd argue that it's closer to 'more' than 'less'. But, for example, over the course of nearly six hundred pages, you never once mentioned the fact you smoked. You conveniently left out the huge fight that followed me telling you about Zach when I discovered you smoked, and I told you I wouldn't date a smoker."

"I'm glad you changed your mind," he responded.

"Me too, but why wasn't the fact you smoked, or the argument that ensued, important enough to include, when every little detail of the things we did the first week we moved in with you was?"

"I guess it's partly because I knew how much you hated me smoking. Since I was in the process of quitting when I was writing, I felt like it was better to just not bring it up. I know it took a lot for you to decide to keep dating me because of the cigarettes. I really wanted to focus on the good times."

"Yet you included our fights over money. Actually, I don't remember them being as dramatic as you wrote about."

"I know, but those fights ended pretty quickly. I felt like including them helped explain how we worked together to overcome the obstacles put in front of us. I liked that it kinda foreshadowed the fact that I think we can get over this one, too. As far as making them more dramatic or not, I think that's in the eye of the beholder. I saw them as a pretty big deal. I tried my best to recall the exact conversations. I used my journals a lot, too, but unfortunately, they tended to include such lines as 'today, Noah and I fought about money,' so they weren't exactly helpful. Did you think I did a good job of capturing any of it accurately, or did I completely go off the deep end?"

"Actually, I think you captured most of it pretty much exactly how it happened. The night we got temporary custody of Zach is permanently etched in my mind, for example, and it really felt like I was reliving it when I read that scene. While I don't remember the specifics of a lot of the conversations we had that first week, I think those were pretty spot-on as well. But I don't understand why you changed how I look," I said.

"What do you mean? I described your eyes, your hair, your smile, and even your sexy smooth chest perfectly."

"Well, kinda. You left out the part where I had just lost a bet to Will, shortly before you met, and I had to wax off the patch of hair between my pecs," I replied with a grin.

"Yeah, but I didn't know that at the time. By the time it grew back and I noticed it, I begged you to keep it shaved, which you gladly did."

"Yeah, that's true, although I think I always teased you about liking your guys hairless. But that's not the only thing you changed."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, apparently you turned me into a tripod. I mean, I know I've got plenty to work with, and I'm definitely not embarrassed by it, but I don't have... what did you say?" I quickly flipped through my notes until I found it. "Nine and a half inches? That's probably off by almost an inch, at least. Why didn't you just make me an even foot?"

"Ok, so I exaggerated a little. I knew I was doing it at the time, but there were a couple of reasons. First off, I couldn't help myself when I was describing me, and I know I added a bit to it."

"Not that you have anything to be ashamed of," I cut in with a grin.

"Not the point. Anyway, I figured if I added a bit of length to me, why shouldn't I do the same to you? That brings me to the second point. By the time I was writing, it had been so long since we'd been together that describing you almost became something overtly sexual. It was kinda like I was writing my own masturbatory fantasies, even though they were actually true."

"Is that why you described the sex between us so explicitly? I have to admit that was a little weird to read. I'll admit it got me excited, but it was kinda creepy to get turned on reading about my own sex life. Granted, I think it was more your fantasy than the reality."

"Yeah, probably. Like I said, it'd been a very long time. Even thinking about sex with you was getting me going, so writing about it... it was hard to control myself," Scott replied, blushing a bit.

"Yeah, I bet it was hard," I said with a grin. I suddenly realized how easily we were bantering back and forth. It gave me even more hope that one day we'd be able to get back to what we had before.

"Anyway, the other big one I noticed was how you described Will," I said, trying to get serious again.

"I was trying to do my best to describe his actions as I interpreted them, and not what really happened. As you know, it took me quite a while to reconcile the differences."

"Yeah, but you could've at least hinted in there that you now know you were overreacting. I mean, I can see the night you two hooked up and you overreacting there. Remember, I didn't know you, but I heard about it from him at the time. He was devastated over what he'd done to you. He never meant to hurt you the way he did."

"And I massively over-reacted, I know, but that's part of what I'm trying to work on with him now in our sessions."

"It's not just that. I mean, the way you wrote about Will trying to break us up is exactly how you portrayed it to me, but that's not really how it went down from how I understand it."

"It kinda is," Scott responded defensively.

"Yeah, the keyword there is 'kinda'. Yes, he implied Zach was possibly my lover, but not nearly as blatantly as you described it. He basically just dropped the name and said I was with someone else. Also, you wrote as if you were there for the entire conversation between Will and I where we made up afterwards. The truth is I called Will on my way to my apartment. He met me there, and we talked for close to two hours. You showed up for the last five minutes of our conversation. But you know that already. I told you exactly how the conversation went down."

"Ok, but in my defense, I wasn't sure how to write that scene. I didn't want to write you telling me what happened, so I had to make it where I was eavesdropping. I don't know what it was. I know you forgave him pretty quickly, but it took me a long time to feel like I could trust him again. I was always worried he'd try to break us up again."

"I know, and I understood that. That's why I never really pushed you hard to be friends with him. Then again, with you basically manipulating him into being your psychologist, I'm not sure he's going to even give you the time of day outside of sessions anymore."

"Yeah, you're probably right. I really fucked everything up good, didn't I?"

"You did, but you have to deal with it. The fact that you're mostly owning up to it seems to be a good sign."

"I still have to figure out how I'm going to win Zach back. That's not going to be easy."

"No, it's not. You broke your promise to him. You know how he gets when he feels like his trust has been violated."

"Do you have any ideas?"

"If it's alright with you, I'd like to show him what you wrote about him. Obviously, I'll leave out all the dirty parts you included. Otherwise, you're just going to have to work to regain his trust. Don't lie to him, and don't make any promises you can't keep. You were always a fantastic father to him; with some effort, you'll probably be able to get him to come around," I said.

Scott thought for a moment before replying. "Yeah, go ahead and show him whatever you want from the story. Maybe I can take him out for ice cream or something after school tomorrow?"

"I think you're getting a bit ahead of yourself. Why don't we see what happens Wednesday in our therapy session. If things go well, maybe you can pick him up from school on Friday."

"That works. Thanks."

Both of us sat in awkward silence for a few minutes. We had run out of things to talk about, but I don't think either one of us wanted to leave. Finally, I stood.

"Sorry, Scott, but I've got to get home and get started on dinner. I'll see you tomorrow at work, right?"

"Uh... yeah, I'll be there."

* * *

I purposely arrived a little early to work the next morning. I was surprised to see Scott already in his office, poring over stacks of documents. While I was wearing a polo shirt and jeans, Scott arrived in a black pinstriped suit. I knocked on his open door to get his attention.

"You're here early. And dressed to kill, I see."

"Last night, I had a great idea, and I'm trying to see if it'll work the way I think it will."

"What's the big plan? You've been back at work for an hour and you're looking like you're ready to restructure the company."

"Something like that. I'll tell you later. I already have a feasibility meeting with Tom scheduled. He finally answered his phone. I want to check in with the parties involved to make sure it's even a possibility before bringing it to you. Right now, I'm prepping for Tom. I know I'm not his favorite person, so I want to make sure I've got all my bases covered."

"You're not about to propose cutting the web division are you? That might actually get Tom's attention."

"You'll see," Scott replied coyly.

"And you're not trying to go around me, are you? Remember, I'm still CEO."

"No, I promise you I'm not. I just want to make sure this will work. If Tom says it's not feasible, then what's the point in bringing you in?"

"Alright, well don't keep me out of the loop for long. I'll be in my office if you need me."

With Scott's office next to mine, I couldn't help but notice several meetings throughout the morning. Finally, shortly after lunch, he knocked on my door. I invited him in, and he took a seat.

"So is it finally time to bring me in on whatever your project is?"

"Yeah. Again, I promise I wasn't going behind your back. Friday, you warned me that you had offered Bernice my position. It hurt, but I understand where you're coming from. I wasn't here and she picked up the slack. The reality is she deserves to run the web division."

"Ultimately, I agree with that. Does that mean you're stepping down?"

"No," Scott replied, blushing a bit. "I know it's a bit conceited, but I built this company. Hell, I was this company for a long time. I know I gave you power to make all final decisions, and I don't regret that choice. I just don't want to step down to being just a web designer again."

"So you think Bernice should have your job, but you don't want to give up your position. I could make it easy and just demote you," I said with a grin.

"Actually, if my meetings this morning hadn't gone the way I wanted them to, I was going to request you do so. We have two divisions, and while they all intertwine a little, the advertising division only helps create the artwork for the web division. However, the web division has two different groups of employees: those that are focused on designing web pages, and the others are working on the games."

"Yes, and the games portion has become enough of a drag on the company that Tom's been trying to convince me to eliminate the entire web division. Where are you going with this, anyway?"

"I want to divide the web division into two separate divisions. All of the web designers will continue to work under me in the new design division. Bernice will lead the new game division. In terms of hierarchy, she'll be on equal footing with you and me in terms of being in charge of hiring and firing, and the direction of the projects within her division. However, she and I will still report directly to you when it comes to the direction of the company."

"And Tom's on board?"

"He is. He figures Bernice is the most likely of the three of us to actually make the games a financial success."

"Alright, if nothing else, we can always try it out, but if you've convinced Tom, then I don't see the problem. I was concerned about you stepping back into your job, but you seem to be starting strong."

"Yeah, I just hope I'm able to keep going strong."

* * *

That evening, I sat down with Zach, and we read several of the parts of Scott's story that included my son. Zach was awed by reading a story that included him. However, I'm not sure how much it helped Zach realize how much Scott cared for him. He remembered bits and pieces of the events in the story, but not well enough to realize it was more than just a story.

As I tucked my son into bed, I wondered how well the therapy session with the three of us would go the next day.


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Scott's showing some signs of growth. Of course, there's still the first session with Zach! I really enjoyed making the YouTube video a few chapters ago. So much so that I'm making another. Do you have any questions for me? If so, send them to me! I'll be answering them in that video!!! Ask me anything (Personal, story-related, or just random)! The only thing I won't answer are questions directly relating to what's going to happen in Moving On (for instance, I've already had someone ask me if Noah and Scott will try to have another kid)


Let me know where you're from! I have a map of readers from around the globe. I currently have readers in 36 states and territories, and 19 countries on 5 continents. I'd love to fill the map in some more!! (Anyone from South America?)


My story is also hosted at, and on my story website, The map of readers and the signup form for the mailing list are on the website for all who are interested.


The story's Facebook group, 'Moving On' is a good place to communicate with me and fellow readers. It is a 'closed group', meaning nothing posted in the group is visible to nonmembers, and the group does not show up on your timeline for others to see.  The downside is that you receive a message that you joined a 'closed group', and have to wait until I approve adding you, which I do as soon as I am able. Several times, by the time I get the chance to add someone (even immediately after getting the notification), the person has removed their request. I have not, nor will I deny someone from joining the group, although I reserve the right to remove someone if necessary (spammers or people who are rude). All content will be kept at a PG-13 level.  All are welcome to join by clicking on this link:


Don't forget to send me any questions or comments to