O’Hara drew another tremendous breath, exhaling ferociously. His body caving, crumpling, almost pouring out of the shell of his clothes.

“It’s all right,” Kennet said softly. “I’ve known a long time and I don’t care. You’re my buddy and you won’t lose my respect or my friendship. I promise.”

O’Hara’s entire face squeezed tight. “Jesus Christ, Fish.”

Kennet put two cigarettes in his mouth, lit them and passed one over.

O’Hara took an enormous drag and blew a plume of smoke that nearly reached the border of France. “It was the one good thing about the war,” he said hoarsely. “The only good thing about this entire fucking business.”

“Tell me.”

“I could get through every day of fighting and killing, terror, cold, hunger and misery, because every night, I lay down next to Chris. Or I dug a hole and sat shivering in it with him. It didn’t matter how or where. In the mud, the rain or the snow. In barns or basements, stables or attics. Whether I fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion or lay awake out of sheer terror, I was next to Chris. I had something getting me through the nights that nobody else in the platoon did. Everyone had their buddy, but I had a lover. We hid it during the day. Same way we hid it for all our lives. But at night… We had each other. We held onto each other. All night. And nobody knew.” He glanced at Kennet. “But I guess you did.”

“Hook figured it out first. I’m a little slower. Not sure who else knew, but…”

“Hook didn’t care?”

“No. Neither did I. I guess that’s the one good thing I got out of the war—figuring out what matters and what doesn’t. What’s worth fighting about and what isn’t.”

In the twilight he could see O’Hara was trembling, hands clenched in fists.

“You all right?”

“I’ve never had a conversation like this in my life,” O’Hara said tightly. “I thought about it. Imagined it, I mean. Thinking it would be a wonderful thing. Now that it’s happening, I feel like I’m gonna puke.”

“Because you don’t trust it.”

“No.” Half a chuckle through his nose. “No offense, Fish.”

“Can’t say I blame you. I’ll shut up now.”

Kennet took his own deep breath and rubbed his tongue on the roof of his mouth. He chewed on the bland, empty air, weighed the options and the consequences.

“Hey, Boyd?”

“I thought you were shutting up.”

“How would you feel about coming home with me?”

O’Hara looked at him fast and sharp.