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CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
Matty’s enthusiasmwound down not long after the food arrived. It had been a long flight, and the jet lag was powerful enough that he was flopped on the uncomfortably narrow couch by the terrace door, snoring away.
Renzo and Emil had gotten comfortable in one of the round, oversized swivel chairs with some movie on the TV that Matty had fallen asleep to. Emil hadn’t said much over the last several moments, lost in the feeling of Renzo drawing careful lines over his forearm.
It was the closest to peace Emil had ever felt in his entire life, and he wanted to bask in it forever, even if he knew it wouldn’t last. “How long are you here for?” he finally asked.
“Matty has six vacation days, and I brought work with me, so we don’t have to rush home. If you don’t mind us around that long,” Renzo added. “I had a panic attack about not asking first, but Victor swore up and down you wouldn’t want us to leave.”
Emil tipped Renzo’s face up by his chin and kissed him, soft and sweet. “I never want you to leave. Not…I mean, I’m not trying to move fast or anything—I don’t mean move in, but…”
Renzo’s quiet laugh stopped Emil’s babbling. “You’re cute when you panic. And I know what you meant. I feel the same way.”
Emil let out a small breath. “Okay.” He dropped his head to the side of the cushion and stared at Renzo’s profile. He was so fucking beautiful it hurt to look at sometimes. He reached out and ran his thumb over the edge of Renzo’s jaw, loving the way his rough stubble felt against his skin. “There’s more I want to say, but I’m not sure I’m ready.”
Renzo was silent and still for so long Emil felt the urge to panic—like maybe Renzo had figured him out and was now trying to find a way out. Then he shifted his body, turning so he could look directly at Emil. “This morning, I went to my office to upload some of my files from my work computer so I could have an excuse to stay here with you longer.”
Emil smiled. “Yeah?”
Renzo didn’t smile back. “Matty was petrified to come with me because he knew campus is the only place he’ll ever see John again.”
Something in Emil’s chest sank, but this time, he said nothing.
“I told him not to be afraid. It’s the holidays, no one was there. He trusted me.” Renzo took in a trembling breath. “John was in the hallway when we were leaving.”
Emil’s hands curled into fists. “Did he speak to you?”
Renzo let out a small laugh and closed his eyes. “Yeah. Matty yelled at him. Well, as much as Matty’s ever yelled at anyone. For a second, he tried to step between me and John.”
“He loves you so much,” Emil said quietly.
Renzo passed a hand down his face, then finally opened his eyes. “When he was really little, he was sick all the time. My sister and I didn’t really understand his disorder. There’s a lot more information about it now, but it sounded made-up to me. I’m not even really sure I believed my mom until Matty’s heart almost gave out.”
Emil sucked in a breath. “Seriously?”
“He’s got defects,” Renzo said. “He takes medication for it, but there’s a good chance he’s going to have a heart attack really young. Luckily, it’s not a death sentence anymore, and his life expectancy is average.”
Emil had no idea how relieved that was going to make him feel until that moment. He was so attached it felt almost dangerous. “I…that’s good.”
Renzo laughed. “Yeah. After his surgery, I got weird. Protective,” Renzo said with a shrug. “Threatened to beat up some kids who were a lot younger than me for calling him nasty names.”
“Fucking good,” Emil said, his voice a low growl.
Renzo rolled his eyes, but he kept smiling. “Matty found out how cruel just about anyone could be way too young. He had a therapist at his school who used to play really loud music and bang drumsticks on her desk really close to where he was sitting as a form of punishment. My mom went ballistic when he told her that was happening.”
Emil’s stomach was sour. “How could they?—”
“Trust me,” Renzo interrupted, “I know. We were so picky about who we let into his life after that. Maybe to his detriment because he struggled when he first got his job. He’d forgotten people could be dickheads. Then John came along and quietly tortured him. I don’t even know half of what he did. Matty wouldn’t tell me, and he’s probably right—it’s probably for the best. I’d end up in jail, and that wouldn’t be good for either of us.”
Emil let out a long, slow breath. “I have a really good lawyer. Like, a really good one.”
Renzo’s eyes went suspiciously bright. “Yeah. If you’d said that to me six months ago, I might have taken you up on that. But when Matty was literally trying to protect me from John’s assholery, I realized in that moment he’d lost his power over all of us.”
Tilting his head to the side, Emil studied his lover. “Okay.”
“My therapist taught me about grey-rocking. Where you don’t feed the narcissist what they want to be fed. For John, it was being able to make me feel foolish and ignorant.” Renzo let out a bitter laugh. “He was so good at it, and that’s so fucking absurd. I’m a goddamn doctor. I graduated summa cum laude. Got my master’s with distinction.” He licked his lips as a small spark of inferiority shot through Emil, but it only lasted a second before it was replaced by burning pride in his lover’s accomplishments. “I’m one of the top research chemists in the region, for fuck’s sake!”
Emil grabbed Renzo’s hand, pressing a kiss to the inside of his wrist. “I know, baby. I know you’re one of the smartest men I’m ever going to be lucky enough to meet.”
