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“I carved the wordMineinto your back, Mina. All we understand is pain.”
“I know, but it was more about the marking than the pain. Did you do it because you like hurting me?”
I study his face, watching as he seems to be thinking it through to give me the real answer.
“No,” he finally says.
“No. So let’s go run.”
“Running won’t fix this,” he says again.
I remove the blindfold and stare into his eyes. He doesn’t try to look away. I don’t think he realizes that I’m the only person he can do this with. Sure, he’ll stare people down until they avert their gaze, but it’s intimidation, not trust, not vulnerability.
I cross to my dresser and pull out my own gym clothes. He watches me as I change. I turn off the record, which has long since moved onto another Chopin piece. I extend my hand to him, he takes it, and we quietly go upstairs to the gym.
The party is still going on out at the pool. No one even knows we’ve returned to the house. We run together on the treadmill, and then I take him to the kitchen and make him some scrambled eggs just like he did for me the first time he shared this ritual with me—and many times after. Then we shower together, and by the time we’re lying in bed, he seems more calm.
He moves up closer to me, his head leaned on my shoulder.
“We’re going to be okay,” I say.
“How do you know that?”
“I just do. I love you, Brian.” I hate that the first time I said these words to him was when I thought he was about to let me die. But I’d needed him to know.
He’s silent. I wish I could read the thoughts and fears inside his head. I know he can’t say the words back, but a part of me believes he feels them even if he’s never able to say them out loud. He reaches out and grips my hand in his, his thumb stroking slow circles over my skin.
And for now, that’s enough.
* * *
