Heavy and ugly and alive.
I stay in my room until I can’t stand being inside my own head anymore. Then I get up and go to the kitchen and Blake is there, coffee already made, laptop closed, sitting in a way that says he heard me not sleeping through the wall all morning and has been waiting.
He looks at me.
I sit down across from him.
He pushes a mug toward me.
Neither of us says anything for a minute.
"He left," I say.
"I know. I heard the door. Tried to talk to him."
"He didn’t say anything."
"I know."
"I called him twice." I look at the table. "He didn't pick up. Didn't text back. I sent him one word and got nothing and I—"I stop. Press my thumb into the ceramic. "I know what this is. I know it."
"Rhys—"
"I know what it feels like when someone decides you're too much and starts looking for the exit. I've felt it before. I fucking know it."
Blake is quiet. "He's not Marcus," he says.
"I know he's not Marcus." I look up at him. "I've been telling myself that for months. He's not Marcus. He's different. He means whatever he says. He’s so closed off I had to break him open to even get a piece of him." I put the mug down. "And then he did the exact same thing Marcus did. I think Jamie would rather bleed out than admit he wants something. That he wants me.”
"One morning—"
"It's not just one morning." I shake my head. "It's what one morning means. It means that the second this got real he ran. That's always the pattern. Everything's fine until it gets too real and then I'm the problem. I knew. I knew going in. I made the rule for a reason. And he kept showing me how scared he was and I kept letting it happen.”
"But you did it anyway," Blake says.
"Yeah," I say. "I did."
"Because you trust him."
I look at my hands. "Because I was stupid."
"Because you were brave." He leans forward. "There's a difference and you know it."
I don't say anything.
"Rhys." He waits until I look at him. "I was there when you got here, all broken and torn up. You built everything back. From nothing. By yourself. And then Jamie Nash made you want to try again and you did it scared and that is not being stupid. That's you still being you after everything and everyone triedto take that away."
My eyes burn.
"What if he doesn't choose me?" I ask. “Blake, I wish for fucking once, someone would just love me enough.”
There it is, the whole truth. Raw.
"Then you survive it," he says. "The way you survived before. And I’ll be here for you, always. But I don't think that's what this is." He pauses. "I think he's drowning in something and it has nothing to do with whether he wants you." Another pause. "Has he ever told you anything? About his life. His family."
"Pieces," I say. "His dad was hard on him. Bad childhood." I pause. "That's about it. He gives you these windows and then closes them so fast you think you imagined them being open."
"And you?" Blake says. "Have you told him everything?"
