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He closed his eyes, squeezing a few more tears free.
I brushed one away with my thumb. “Come on. Let’s get cleaned up, and then we can talk.”
Chapter 10
Matteo
Sex always left me wrung out to some extent. I didn’t necessarily need to roll over and pass out the instant it was over, but a good orgasm could definitely knock me on my ass.
This time, I wasn’t blissfully drowsy. My body felt amazing, but I was emotionally shit-whipped in a way I’d never experienced after sex. Physically, it was that perfect afterglow that followed spectacular sex, but emotionally, it was the moment Owen had kicked me out all over again. No, worse: the moment what I’d done had registered on his face. It was the best and the worst at the exact same time, and I didn’t know how the hell I’d find my equilibrium again.
Owen and I had showered together, and I’d had to go through the motions on numb autopilot, unable to look him in the eye even while I was grateful he was there in case my knees gave out.
Now we were in his bed—in the bed that had once been ours—and if I hadn’t been so exhausted, I might’ve cried again.
That, too, was a new experience. I was aware some people cried during or after sex. One of my exes had cried whenever he came; it was just one of those things that happened when people were overwhelmed. It had never happened to me, though, and this wasn’t the force of a powerful orgasm driving me to tears. I’d come inside Owen, landed in his arms, and just… fallen apart.
It had only lasted a minute or two, but lying here beside him now, I felt like I’d been ugly crying for a solid hour. Drained. Rattled. Aching. Sure I was going to start again at the slightest provocation, but not so sure there were any tears left. Who knew the only thing that could tear me apart more than losing Owen was tumbling into bed with him again after all this time?
You don’t deserve what I did to you.
And I don’t deserve anything from you but contempt.
I still had no idea if there was any forgiveness here, or if Owen had just decided that sex was better than the fraught uneasiness of the last couple of days. I had no idea which of those options was worse. I just… I didn’t know a fucking thing right now except that for all I had, for the past year, understood what I’d lost—for all that had torn me to shreds every goddamned day—I wasexcruciatinglyaware of it now.
Beside me, Owen propped himself up on his elbow and ran a hand up the middle of my chest, his touch painfully affectionate and compassionate and his eyes full of concern. “You okay?”
The words“I haven’t been okay since last year”were dangerously close to the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t want him to feel guilty. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but I knew him—if I let the cracks show, he’d blame himself, and I wasn’t about to let him shoulder any of this.
So as I covered his hand with mine, I just said, “I’m okay.”
“Bullshit.” His expression hardened slightly even as he turned his hand over to clasp mine. “Don’t lie to me, Matteo.”
Ouch. Yeah. Maybe I’d done enough of that. Still…
I shook my head, shifting my gaze up to the ceiling. “Okay. Yeah. I’m a mess.” I swallowed hard and turned to him again. “But you’re the last person in the world I should be venting to or trying to get sympathy from. I did this to me when I did all that to you.”
His eyebrows flicked up. Then, slowly, he exhaled, and he rubbed his thumb alongside mine. “Look, you fucked up. We both know you did. But… I mean, you’ve been wearing your regret on your sleeve for the last twenty-four hours. I tried to tell myself it’s all an act or a way to manipulate me or…” He shook his head. “But you’re not that good of an actor. You never were. And everything you said at the restaurant…” Owen sighed, suddenly looking as wrung out as I was. “Maybe it makes me a gullible idiot, but when you say you’d go back and undo it if you could… I believe you.”
Fuck, he was going to reduce me to tears all over again. “I would. I seriously would. And…” I paused to collect myself. Then I shifted onto my side so I was facing him, and I let go of his hand so I could rest mine on his waist. My forearm was throbbing under the bandage, but I barely felt it over this relentless ache behind my ribs. “I meant what I said about why I didn’t tell you right away. It never even crossed my mind to think you wouldn’t find out or that I could win you back by pretending it never happened. I just didn’t want to hurt you all over again.”
“I know.” Owen touched my cheek. “I’m not even sure if I ever really believed you would do that.”
“You didn’t?”
He seemed to think about it, then shrugged. “I know you. That’s… it isn’t something you’d do.”
I winced. “You didn’t think I’d cheat either.”
“True.” He chewed his lip, watching his hand drift down to my chest. “But… I don’t know. I think I kept going back to the way you looked at me when I walked into your office yesterday.”
I blinked. “Yeah?”
Owen nodded, meeting my gaze through his lashes. “I didn’t really notice at the time because I was panicking. But the more I thought about it, you looked like I’d walked in there to read you the riot act.”
“I thought you had,” I admitted softly.
“But you weren’t defensive or ready to come at me with some kind of argument or gaslighting.” He found my free hand and gently clasped our fingers together. “I think it was the first time I ever saw you looking at me like you were… I don’t know. Afraid of me?”
