Page 64 of Ruined

Logan sighs. “Of course it would. I just thought… You two were never very close.”

“I know.”

We’re quiet for a while, our drinks forgotten. I want to be close to him, want him to hug me and stroke my hair and kiss me, but that might make him uncomfortable. This is hard enough as it is.

I feel like the whole world is against us. Not only are we two men, but the other aspects of our relationship—the age difference and the complicated nature of our past—will never go away.

Even if Mason and my mom won’t accept us or give us their blessing, I know what I want. My conviction isn’t what I’m worried about; it’s Logan’s. I don’t want to doubt him, but when the risk of losing him again resurfaces in my mind, I can’t help it.

I lean against him, heart pounding from the heat of his body and the longing in my heart. I always yearn for him, even when we’re together. He has no idea… No idea how much I want this. I can tell him a hundred times, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

“Are you ready to go home?” he asks, and I shake my head.

Knowing what I need, he pulls me into a hug. He tucks my head into his chest and rests his chin on the top of my head. He holds me like that for a few moments, stroking my hair, enveloping me in his safety and warmth. I tilt my head up, eyes catching on his mouth.

“I want a kiss, Daddy,” I whisper.

He stiffens against me and clears his throat. “Not here.”

My heart sinks. I want to protest—I do—but the words get stuck in my throat. Other couples kiss in public—why can’t we? What do you think will happen? Are you ashamed of being with me?

I have a thousand arguments, but there’s no use in voicing them if he’s already made up his mind. How can I convince him he’s not wrong for being with me? I feel like I’ve already done all I can, said everything I’m able to say. If it’s not enough for the world, that’s one thing. But if it’s not enough for him, we have another problem.

No matter what I say, no matter how I reassure him, what if it’s not enough?

23. LET GO

When we walk out of the café, it strikes me that we were supposed to have lunch. All our plans got sidelined by what just happened, and now, I’m not sure what to do.

Oliver said he was hungry nearly an hour ago, and I want to feed him, but at the same time, it’s hard to even look at him right now. The guilt that’s always simmering inside me is roaring in the wake of Mason’s words.

“You can care about him without sleeping with him.”

“You really couldn’t have picked anyone else?”

He’s right. He’s right about everything.

Seeing him again was like looking into a mirror of my past. The last time I saw him, he was sixteen, which means he must be in his early twenties now. I met the boys’ mother when he was ten, and he never really warmed up to me the way Oliver did. Never really accepted me as his father figure. Even at ten, he was independent beyond his years, and he didn’t need me the way Oliver did.

Since he never warmed up to me in the first place, it’s no wonder he reacted the way he did. I don’t blame him for it, and there’s nothing I can say that I haven’t already said. My justifications for doing what I’m doing are weak in the first place; I know that. Mason only hammered home what I already knew, jabbed his finger into bruises I already had.

As for Oliver… I know I hurt him by rejecting his kiss, and in hindsight, I could have granted him a small one, a peck, but I couldn’t. It wasn’t because of the people around us this time. Rather, the confrontation with Mason made me remember the boy Oliver used to be, and connecting that boy with the young man I take to bed just became too much.

All the thoughts running through my head as we walk back to my apartment are almost too much to take, the guilt like a hand squeezing my heart.

Oliver is quiet all the way home. I know today shook him too, though I doubt he’s as tormented by it as I am. He looks at his phone while we walk, and I glance down at him, curious to know what’s holding his attention.

“The twins are sending stupid memes,” he mutters, but I can’t help but notice the reluctant smile at the corners of his lips.

A lump forms in my throat. He should be with them, not me. They’re his friends, but they’re his own age, and they’re not… wrong. Like I am.

The more I think about it, the more certain I get. Oliver was supposed to stay with me all weekend, but after what happened, I think we both need some space. I don’t know if they’re my thoughts or Mason’s or something in between, but it doesn’t matter. He shouldn’t be with me. This is for his own good.

God, I don’t want to send him away, but I can’t be what he needs when my mind is spinning like this. I can’t be his daddy. I can’t be anything, and he deserves better. When he’s here with me, I need to be able to focus all my energy on him, and I can’t do that right now. What I want doesn’t matter; his well-being always comes first.

When we arrive at my apartment building, I open the entrance door and let Oliver inside. In the elevator, I don’t press the button to my floor, though; I press the button to the garage.

Oliver puts his phone away. “Are we going somewhere?”