Cloverleaf : Chapter Thirteen

The Final Chapter

“You’re not a farmer, Karl. Music is what you’re meant to do, and you gotta keep going. I watched you shine on that stage last night. I never imagined it would be like that. I saw something undeniable in you.”

Ben held Karl close in his arms. “I don’t want you to be scared. What I said before about not being all yours was wrong. Everything I am is yours.”

Karl carried Ben’s words with him for weeks afterward. Sometimes while lying awake in anonymous motel rooms. Sometimes, standing side stage listening to whistles, applause, and shouted names echo through the dark before the lights went down. Sometimes in the lonely silence after the shows were over.

By the time October arrived, everyone seemed to be preparing to leave something behind.

Zach accepted the position at Cornell early that month. The museum director agreed to let him wait until January to start, giving him time to sell the condo, help prepare his replacement at the institute, and figure out what a life in Ithaca was supposed to look like. The next few months became a blur of highways and airports — Cleveland to Shawhan, Shawhan to Ithaca, Ithaca back to Cleveland — threaded together by long phone calls and even longer silences between Peter and Zach. Some days, they talked excitedly about the future. On other days, neither of them seemed certain there was one.

When Peter finally decided what to do about Pommel Ranch, he sold it to Ben and Karl for far less than it was worth. Ben protested. Karl did too. Peter ignored both of them and called it a wedding present.

Halfway through Markwald’s tour, Peter stopped traveling with the band. He stayed on as their manager, but after years on the road, he seemed relieved to step away from the cramped vans, late nights, and endless motel rooms.

“You’ll be fine without me,” he told them. “Besides, now you’ll all have more room in the van.”

At the institute, Ethan slipped naturally into the responsibilities Zach had gradually begun handing over to him. By the time of Zach’s last day, the Board’s decision to promote Ethan felt less like a gamble than an inevitability.

The Saturday before Thanksgiving, Zach invited Ethan to meet him at the neighborhood rec center to shoot hoops. Ethan had assumed it would just be the two of them, so when he walked into the gym and saw Zach already running layup drills with four other guys, something in him sank a little. After hasty introductions, they split into three-on-three, shirts versus skins.

Zach tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it toward the bleachers. “Ethan’s with me,” he announced. “Losers buy the first round.” Then he hooked an arm around Ethan’s shoulders and pulled him briefly against his bare side. “Ethan, maybe don’t let on that you played varsity basketball when you were at Wooster.”

Skins won 11-3, but despite all the fist bumps and bro hugs, Ethan wished the afternoon had turned out differently. He even made up an excuse about why he couldn’t join them for a beer.

Zach caught up to him in the parking lot. “Hey,” he said. “You sure you don’t want to come with us?” I think you just got drafted to replace me.’

“No, I should go home.”

“What are you up to tonight?” Zach asked.

“I’ll probably just make some dinner and watch a movie.”

“Why don’t you come over? Pete’s in Kentucky at the ranch. So it will just be you and me. The kitchen’s all packed up, but we could order out. Zach looked down for a second before adding quietly, “Tonight might be the last time we get to spend any time alone.”

Until that moment, Ethan hadn’t realized how much of himself had been built around Zach still being here. He’d been leaving for months now — in conversations, in packed boxes, in forwarding emails and farewell lunches, but hearing him say it out loud made it suddenly feel real.

▫ ▫ ▫

Ethan showered, shaved, and got ready as if he were going on a date. He told himself it wasn’t one; that he might still go out to the bars afterward. But Zach had said he wanted them to spend some time alone. Ethan changed clothes twice before settling on something that looked right, and when he ran back inside for the bottle of wine he’d nearly forgotten, he realized he was already late.

When he finally arrived, Zach opened the door and pulled him into a quick, warm hug. “C’mon in. I ordered pizza. I hope that’s okay.”

“Pizza’s perfect. I brought wine.”

“We made a pretty good team today,” Zach said. “You definitely made an impression on the guys. Especially Curtis.”

“Who?” Ethan asked.

“Dark floppy hair. Cavs jersey. You were talking to him after the game.” Zach smiled faintly. “He asked me to give you his number. You should call him.”

“I thought all those guys were straight.”

“They are. Except Curtis and me.” Zach grabbed two plates from the counter. “And I’m pretty sure LaShawn goes both ways.”

After they finished the pizza, Zach gathered the plates and carried them into the kitchen. When he came back, he nodded toward the couch. “Come sit with me.”

Something in his voice made Ethan’s stomach tighten.

Zach sat forward, elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands together once before looking over at him. “There’s something I should probably say out loud.” He gave a small, uneasy laugh. “Or maybe I shouldn’t. I don’t know.”

“You’re scaring me a little,” Ethan said softly.

“I just don’t want you to misunderstand what this is.” Zach looked down for a moment. “You matter to me. A lot. Not because of work. Not because you help me out. You just… do.”

Ethan stayed quiet.

“If things had been different,” Zach said carefully, “if I hadn’t been your teacher, if we hadn’t worked together afterward… maybe you and I would’ve crossed a line somewhere along the way.” He exhaled through his nose. “I’d be lying if I said I never considered it.”

Ethan stared at the floor between his shoes.

“But I couldn’t let myself think about you that way,” Zach continued. “So I stopped myself.”

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

“I fell for you at Wooster,” Ethan finally said. “Hard.” He smiled faintly, embarrassed by the admission. “Maybe it was just some stupid college crush, but it was the first time I ever felt that way about someone. It was kind of amazing.” His expression shifted. “And also terrible.”

Zach nodded slowly. “Yeah. I know that feeling.”

“The day I walked into that interview and saw you sitting there…” Ethan shook his head once. “It all came back at once.”

He looked up at Zach then, forcing himself to hold his gaze. “I don’t think love has to be returned to be real,” he said quietly.

“I’ll be right back.” Zach disappeared down the hallway and returned a minute later carrying a small black box. He sat beside Ethan again and handed it to him.

“I was going to wait to give this to you,” he said quietly, “but I think now’s the right time.”

Inside was a watch. Ethan stared at it for a moment before carefully lifting it from the box. On the back, engraved in small, clean letters, were the words: “Time will explain”.

“It’s from Persuasion,” Zach said. “One of my favorite novels.”

Ethan traced the engraving with his thumb. Then he looked up at him. “Does it have a happy ending?”

A sad smile touched Zach’s face. “Yeah. It does.”

The room went quiet again.

“There’s somebody out there for you, Ethan,” Zach said softly. “Somebody who can give you everything you deserve. And when he shows up, you can’t let me stand in the way of that.”

Ethan looked down, swallowing hard. “I’m glad you and Pete found each other,” he said after a moment. “He’s really good for you.”

“He likes you a lot,” Zach said. “He wanted us to have tonight together.”

Ethan gave a small, fragile smile. “I don’t suppose he meant I should spend the night with you.”

Zach huffed out a quiet laugh and shook his head. “No. Probably not.”

Ethan nodded once and stood. “I should go.”

“I’ll call you an Uber.”

“That’s okay. I’m fine.” Ethan closed the watch box carefully. “Thank you for this. Seriously.”

Zach walked him to the door. For a moment, neither of them moved. They just stood there facing each other, the air suddenly heavy with everything they hadn’t said. Then Zach stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. Ethan held on tightly.

When they finally pulled apart, Ethan’s eyes were wet. Before he could lose his nerve, he leaned in and kissed Zach softly on the mouth. It lasted only a second, maybe two, but long enough to make his chest ache afterward. Then he stepped outside. The door closed gently behind him.

Ethan stood on the empty sidewalk, breathing hard, staring out at the night sky. It hit him all at once — the loneliness, the wanting, the fragile hope he’d carried around for years without ever really admitting it to himself.

He reached into his pocket for a tissue and felt a folded scrap of paper instead. Confused, he pulled it out and unfolded it beneath the streetlight. A phone number. And above it, written in hurried block letters: Curtis.

▫ ▫ ▫

The moving truck pulled into the ranch driveway just after sunrise on November twenty-seventh. Frost silvered the pasture fences and the dead grass around the barn. Peter stood on the porch with a cup of coffee gone cold in his hands while the movers carried boxes out of the house.

Zach stayed mostly quiet that morning. Every so often, he touched Peter’s back as he passed him, like he understood Peter might come apart if nobody kept a hand on him.

Ben helped Zach pack the Suburban while Karl wandered restlessly from room to room, pretending to look for anything forgotten. Nobody said much.

It wasn’t real until Peter saw the bare walls in the den where photographs and records had hung for years. Then it hit him all at once. Ray was gone. Matt was gone. The years were gone. And now this life was ending too.

By noon, the moving van doors slammed shut. Peter stood beside his car while Ben and Karl walked down from the porch. For a second, all three men just looked at one another. Peter laughed once under his breath and wiped at his eyes. “Jesus Christ,” he said. “I used to think I was good at saying goodbye.”

Ben’s expression softened immediately.

Peter shook his head. “Ever since Ray…” His voice caught. “Now every goodbye feels like maybe the last one.”

Karl looked down at the gravel a moment before stepping closer. “Hey.” Peter looked up at him. Karl’s eyes were already red. “I don’t really know how to do this part.” He gave a small, embarrassed shrug. “You know I’m not good at serious conversations.”

Peter laughed quietly through his tears. “That’s not true.”

“It is.” Karl swallowed hard. “I just… I need you to know something before you go.”

For a moment, he couldn’t seem to get the words out. “You changed my life, Pete,” he said finally. “Mine and Ben’s both.”

Peter looked away, emotional already.

“No, listen.” Karl stepped closer. “When I met you, I was a mess. Half the time, I didn’t even know who I was supposed to be.” He laughed shakily. “You taught me damn near everything important. Music. Patience. How not to run every time things got hard.”

Peter covered his mouth with his hand.

“And nobody’s ever protected me the way you did.” Karl’s voice broke slightly. “Not even close.”

Peter pulled him into a hug before Karl could finish. Karl held on hard, like he was trying not to fall apart in front of everybody.

Over Karl’s shoulder, Peter saw Ben standing quietly beside Zach, both of them giving them the space to have this moment. When Karl finally let go, Ben stepped forward and wrapped Peter in a hug of his own. Strong and steady.

“We’ll come up once you’re settled,” Ben said. “Help you with the barn, and bring your horse up.”

Peter nodded. He couldn’t speak yet.

Ben kissed his cheek once and smiled sadly. “Go be happy, Pete.”

Peter laughed through tears again. “I’ll do my best.”

As they pulled away from the ranch, Peter looked back once in the rearview mirror. Ben had an arm around Karl’s shoulders.

Peter kept driving before the sight could break his heart all over again. The ranch disappeared behind them mile by mile. Peter kept glancing at the rearview mirror until there was nothing left to see.

Beside him, Zach sat quietly looking out at the winter fields passing beside the road. “You know something?”

“What?” Peter asked.

“I think Ray would’ve liked seeing you this happy.”

Peter’s mouth tightened as emotion rose suddenly into his throat again. After a moment, he nodded once. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I hope so.”

Zach lifted Peter’s hand and kissed his knuckles.

Ahead of them, the highway stretched north.

▫ ▫ ▫

The following March, Ben drove Karl to Lexington to meet up with the band before the start of a six-week North American tour. Karl promised he’d try to fly home whenever he could, but both of them knew how hard that would become once the tour fell into a rhythm of overnight drives, radio appearances, cheap motels, and too little sleep. Peter had been part of the previous tour — standing backstage, loading gear, managing finances, calling after them to behave themselves. Peter had booked all the dates, but without him there, the start of the tour felt strange.

L.A. was supposed to be the final stop on the tour. Instead, it became the end of Markwald. For weeks, the band had been unraveling. Crowds were showing up for Karl as much as the music, and the others had started resenting the attention that followed him from city to city. By Phoenix, everyone was exhausted and spoiling for a fight. Karl and the guitar player nearly tore each other apart backstage while the rest of the band watched in stunned silence. San Diego only made things worse. Nobody spoke unless they had to.

Karl called Peter the next morning, and by that afternoon, Peter was on a plane to Los Angeles. He gathered the band in his hotel room before the show, hoping he could still pull them back from the edge. But after an hour of arguments about songwriting credits, money, ego, and who had stopped trusting who first, Peter realized it was literally the end of the road.

Markwald played their final show that night.

Afterward, Karl sat outside the venue near the buses, devastated and talking about quitting music altogether. Peter stayed with him until he finally calmed down enough to listen. Then Peter made a phone call to a woman he’d known during his years with 4 X 4. Back then, Julie Berk was a junior assistant at a management company. Now she was one of the most respected managers in the industry. She was smart, ruthless, and famous for spotting talent before everyone else did. She agreed to sign Karl as a solo artist, but she wanted a clean slate after the public wreckage of Markwald.

A year later, Morrow had his debut album. By the following summer, he’d played Coachella and appeared on Saturday Night Live as the musical guest. From the outside, it looked like everything Karl had ever wanted.

At home, though, things had started to fray in quieter ways. Every time Karl came back to Kentucky, Ben seemed a little farther away from him. Their conversations turned brittle faster than they used to, and when Karl accused Ben of acting differently, Ben would fire back that Karl was the one who’d changed.

When Karl played Lollapalooza in Chicago, Ben promised he’d be there. Karl left a backstage pass waiting for him at will call and kept glancing toward the side of the stage between songs. But Ben never showed up. The moment Karl understood something had truly broken between them came after he flew home after being away for three weeks. Ben was supposed to pick him up at the airport. Instead, Ben’s brother Riley was waiting outside baggage claim.

“Ben couldn’t make it?” Karl asked.

Riley hesitated just long enough to tell Karl everything he needed to know. “He’s still in Cincinnati,” Riley said, already sounding guilty. By the time Riley started trying to explain, Karl had stopped listening.

Karl turned to the only person who might know what to do. Peter did what he always did — he listened. He always understood that Karl needed to find his own answers.

After that, Karl started flying home more often, and Ben joined him on tour once or twice. “Home” slowly became simple things again: long rides on horseback, fixing fences together, falling asleep in the same bed. Little by little, they started trusting each other again. Karl admitted he’d been thinking about leaving the industry once his commitments ended.

One night, while they sat on the porch listening to summer cicadas drone across the fields, Ben quietly said he wanted a house full of noise someday. Karl carried the moment with him on the road.

▫ ▫ ▫

Four years had passed since Peter and Zach moved to Spencer. By then, they were settled into the farmhouse they’d built together, sharing the property with three horses, six sheep, a goat, several half-feral barn cats, and Jasper, who had grown grey around the muzzle.

Late one afternoon, Peter got a phone call from Matt. The moment he heard Matt’s voice, something inside him tightened. They hadn’t spoken in years. At first, Matt sounded strangely calm. He said Ray had suffered a heart attack that morning. Peter stood frozen in the kitchen, one hand gripping the edge of the counter while Zach watched him from across the room.

Then Matt said Ray was gone.

Peter closed his eyes. For a second, he seemed to stop breathing altogether. Without saying a word, he handed the phone to Zach. “Tell him…” Peter swallowed hard. “Tell him I’m sorry for his loss.” Then he walked out of the house.

When Zach found him inside the barn, he was shoveling out the horse stalls. His face was streaked with tears. Zach took the shovel gently from his hands and pulled him against his chest while Peter finally broke apart. After that day, Zach no longer avoided talking about Ray and Matt.

One night, weeks later, he finally asked Peter why he wouldn’t talk to Matt. Peter sat quietly for a long time before answering.

“I knew Matt before I knew Ray,” he said. “We met on tour years ago when he was working as a roadie. Later, after he hurt his back loading equipment into a truck, Ray got Matt a job grooming horses at Ben’s brother’s farm.” He smiled faintly through the sadness. “He was my best friend. And then he and Ray….” Peter stared out toward the dark pasture beyond the porch. I know I should’ve talked to him,” he said quietly. “I know he’s hurting.”

A few days later, Zach called Matt without telling Peter and invited him to visit, hoping he and Peter could mend their friendship. When Matt showed up, Peter was angry at first, then the anger turned into tears, and then the tears turned into forgiveness.

Epilogue

After Zach left Cleveland, Ethan buried himself in work for a while. He went out with Curtis a few times, but somewhere along the way, they realized they liked each other better as friends.

Mostly, Ethan kept to himself after that. He worked late, played basketball with the guys on weekends, and slowly stopped measuring every new person against someone he’d loved years earlier.

Then one afternoon, while a tech from another department knelt beneath Ethan’s desk, untangling wires and swearing under his breath at the company’s ancient computer system, Ethan caught himself smiling and asked him out. For the first time in a long time, wanting someone didn’t hurt. One year later, they moved in together.

A couple of months after they reconciled, Matt started driving up to Spencer every other weekend. At first, he slept in the guest room. Then weekends quietly turned into longer stays, helping Peter repair fences, riding with Zach in the mornings, cooking dinner together while music played softly through the farmhouse, sharing the same bed.

At sixty-three, Peter no longer needed love to arrive like a storm. What he had with Zach and Matt was kinder than that. One autumn morning, Matt moved the last of his things into the farmhouse at Spencer. After that, nobody really spoke about where he lived anymore. Because he was home.

By 2028, Morrow had released three albums, won a Brit Award and a Grammy, and become far more famous than Karl had ever imagined. But the harder it tried to pull him in, the less he wanted it. He didn’t care about parties in the Hollywood Hills or magazine covers. He wanted quiet mornings in Kentucky. He wanted horses, thunderstorms, Ben’s hand at the small of his back, and a life that belonged to him again. So after weeks of talking it through with Ben and Peter, Karl decided to leave it all behind.

On the last night of the tour, Karl’s flight ran into bad weather. He landed late in Lexington and got home after three in the morning. He showered quietly downstairs, trying not to wake anyone, then made his way up the dark staircase. When he slipped into bed beside Ben, his hand brushed a warm body curled against Ben’s chest.

Karl nudged Ben awake. “Why is Lucas in our bed?”

Still half asleep, Ben smiled faintly. “Shhh. Hi, baby. You’re home. Don’t be mad. Sam’s here too. There was a thunderstorm, and they got scared.” He reached back for Karl’s hand beneath the blankets. “They missed their other daddy. And so did I.”

Ben and Karl fell asleep tangled together with their boys, held so tightly inside that small bed that nothing in the world could pull them apart.

* * *