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“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not fine.” My hard stare stops him. “You’re better, but you’re not fine. And neither am I.” I sling my bag over my shoulder, my hand grabbing for the suitcase handle. “You don’t trust me, not with everything like I do with you, and it hurts too much, Redix, because it’s like they won. They broke us both, and now we’re breaking each other.”
I don’t know how I’ll get home. What flight, train, or bus will get me there, but I have to escape. I can’t look at him. Disgrace for hurting him so fast I didn’t even blink; it fills me.
That’s not me.
I’d never hurt him.
But I’m terrified… because I can hurt others… so fucking fast they won’t know what hit them.
“Cade, wait. Lemme get dressed, and we can talk.”
“Are you going to tell me what happened?”
He’s silent. Not even his eyes answer me, and I know he never will.
All my hopes, my happiness, gone.
I’m buried alive by his frozen beauty that holds our secret.
I turn toward the suite door but look back for one last moment at him, at my world.
He’s a stunning smear before my crying eyes.
“Our love is so much. It always has been, and,” I cry, “ but our secret is fucking killing me.” My lips tremble. “And I just want you to know that whatever our truth was, whatever you’re keeping from me—however bad it was—I would’ve still loved you, Redix. I’ll always love you. And I know you love me. But you won’t love yourself enough to give us another chance. And that just killed us.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
A week goes by like slow hell.
The nights I’m working don’t help either. This is the fourth one in a row where I’m sitting in an unmarked car parked outside The Pelican.
I’m watching Derek Baucom.
He’s got an erratic schedule for a Bar Manager—a lot of coming and going from the place where you’d think he’d stay on shift.
But no, he leaves, drives to his condo in his black truck, stays there thirty minutes or so, and then goes back to work. Twice a night for four nights, he’s done it. He’s not going home for a dog. I never see him walk one. It makes me sick, not liking my worst guess of what he’s doing. But I don’t have a warrant to find out.
I tried going through the garbage at his condo building, but in that big dumpster, I can’t tell what’s his. I can’t find any clues or proof.
My phone glows. I glance at it on the console.
And it’s him again.
REDIX
I’m thinking about you
They’re sweet thoughts
He’s texted every day with something cute.
But I can’t reply. It hurts too much, dragging out the pain. It weighs my chest down with a sob that won’t come.
The first night I was home, I answered his call. It was awkward because I didn’t know what to say.
“Cade, we can get through this.” There was no asshole swagger in his voice, only desperation.
