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“I don’t know. I—”
“You almost died,” Win choked out. His vision swam and he wiped at his eyes. “You almost died, Mathieu.”
Mathieu’s expression softened. “I could say the same about you.” He leaned over, pressing his forehead to Win’s. “Do not do that shit again.”
If Jairo wanted Win dead, he would have killed him. Win knew that for certain. Jairo wasn’t trying to kill him. But whoever blew the house up wanted Mathieu dead. He breathed deeply, cupping Mathieu’s nape, brushing their noses together. Under his touch, Mathieu trembled. Slightly, but Win felt him.
“I’m gonna leave.”
Shit, he’d forgotten the doctor was still in the room with them. He jerked his head up, meeting her gaze. “Thank you for taking care of me.” He gave her a small smile. “And him.”
She snorted and turned away. Win stared after her and when the door closed behind her, he brought his attention back to Mathieu. “She hates you.”
“Well. I’m holding her against her will, so…” Mathieu shrugged, all nonchalant.
“Right.” Win wanted to hear that story, but it would have to wait. For now, he clasped Mathieu’s face between his hands, staring deeply into his eyes when he said, “I’m sorry.”
Mathieu squinted at him. “For what?”
“This Jairo thing, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have gotten involved with him.”
Mathieu’s jaw flexed, his lips tightening. “I hurt you. I broke your heart. You wanted to hurt me back. I get it.”
Win released Mathieu and dropped his hands, glancing away. “I wanted a lot of things.” Things he thought he’d have with Mathieu. “Jairo was a distraction at first. Then I saw how you reacted when you found out about him and I…” And he’d wanted so desperately to dig the proverbial knife deeper into Mathieu, to twist it, so he’d continued his dealings with Jairo. He hadn’t known the full extent of the enmity between the two men in the beginning and when he did finally find out, it’d been too late. Now, he was sitting amid the wreckage of all the damage his hurt pride and broken heart had caused.
Jairo shot him, and some part of Win thought he deserved it. Jairo was a lot of things, but he didn’t care for liars. He wasn’t a man you deceived. Win had known that but did it anyway.
“I told him about us,” he said softly to Mathieu. “I wanted to convince him that going to war with you wasn’t the answer.” Instead, he’d only ended up making shit worse.
“The issues Jairo and I have with each other go beyond you,” Mathieu told him. “It is not your job to fix it.”
But he didn’t see. “Someone out there is pitting you and Jairo against each other.”
Mathieu blinked at him, expression skeptical.
“And I think that same person is behind the bomb.” Just mentioning the bomb made Win want to throw up. He could’ve so easily lost Mathieu. Staring at him now, Win couldn’t help but wonder if it had all been worth it. Fighting his connection to Mathieu, doing all he could to put space and distance between them.
Worth it?
Here he was, back in Mathieu’s orbit. In his bed. In his embrace. So no, all that bullshit had been for nothing, because here he was once again. As if it was where he belonged after all.
“Win.” Something must have given away his thoughts because Mathieu swiped his thumb over Win’s bottom lip and leaned in, nosing his jaw, his chin. A fine tremor made his finger twitch against Win’s skin.
“It was in name only,” Win blurted out.
Mathieu lifted his head, gazing down at him. “Hmm?”
“Jairo and me.” Win licked his lips. This was the first time he’d spoken it out loud. Spilling his secret to the only person that mattered. “Our marriage is in name only. We’ve never shared anything other than the occasional chaste kiss.”
Confusion darkened Mathieu’s eyes and he shook his head. “What?”
“You were the last man I shared anything physical with.” Years. It’d been years.
Mathieu pulled away from him and sat back. “It was all a lie?”
Something in his eyes, in his tone, made Win duck his head in shame. “Yes.”
“All this time?”
