Burn (Barlyle) (COMPLETE)

22

Phineas Taylor Barnum had not cried this much since his father died. He got teary-eyed over things, sure, he wasn't a stoic man. But this was the kind of cry that left a person with a headache until they went to bed. The kind that clogged up noses, left you gasping for breath. It was the kind of cry that left the longing of sleep behind in its wake. Sleep to crash into, emotionally and physically exhausted, until rising the next morning - or afternoon or night.

He told Charity, in gasping breaths, about what he thought running into the fire. That, yes, he loved the others as he loved Phillip and he'd do the same damn thing if it were Lettie or Anne or Charles in that burning building instead. But he loved Phillip in a different way too, a way that left his chest aching and empty. He loved Phillip in a way similar to how he loved Charity.

He loved Phillip.

He told her about the kiss. Through gaspy, shuddering breaths he begged her to understand that no, it was not he who initiated the kiss. He would never purposely hurt her like that. And they'd kissed a second time too - only, Phillip had been drunk. He swears up and down Phillip had been drunk and taken him off guard. It was open-mouthed, it was sloppy, it didn't even last two full seconds.

But, he did admit, curling up into himself on the kitchen floor as his wife rubbed his back, he had liked it. He had liked them both. The taste of Phillip's ashy lips on his, surrounded by heat and fire and death. His lips, wet and sloppy and tasting of alcohol, and the briefest hint of his tongue. He didn't mean to hurt Charity, the kisses weren't his fault, but he had liked them both, and God it killed him to hurt her. It killed him to hurt her because no, he had never felt this way about another man, never, never. His love of his wife was real and genuine and he cherished all those years they spent together, he loved her and he loved their girls. He would die for her and their girls.

But he loved Phillip, too.

And, he realized, he would die for Phillip, too.

He couldn't help it. He didn't know why he felt that way, but it was Phillip and, God, Phillip was just so perfect. Only, Phillip hated him - had probably quit because of him - and he didn't know what to do.

Charity listened.