Page 50 of Kylan

I pulled back, not wanting his touch, his comfort.

I knew it hurt him, his hand going back to his lap. The sadness on his face, in the low set of his shoulders. But I couldn’t stop myself.

He swallowed hard, nodded but said nothing.

I rolled over and closed my eyes, and he sat there for a long moment. “We need to talk, Marek,” he whispered.

I said nothing.

“I’ll make you some tea,” he said.

“No, thank you,” I whispered.

“Are you unwell, or . . . ?”

I didn’t answer that.

“Marek, please,” he said. “I’m trying here. I’m sorry. I wish I knew how to fix this.”

“You know how to fix this,” I replied, my voice hoarse and detached.

And then there was silence. And after a long moment, he stood up and walked out.

I didn’t know where he slept, but it wasn’t in bed with me. Maybe the couch, maybe the spare room, maybe even Kylan’s room down the hall.

I wasn’t sure why that hurt to think about.

Fuck this all to hell.

I went downstairs around six in the morning. I needed to stomach some tea before deciding if I could face work. To be busy and distracted with work and clients and meetings and phone calls would do me good, if I could just ease the twisted knot in my belly and the heaviness in my heart.

I switched the kettle on and Leon shuffled into the kitchen behind me. He looked terrible.

Pale, exhausted, and so fucking sad.

And my heart broke all over again.

“Leon,” I tried, my voice breaking.

His eyes met mine, teary and so profoundly sad. “I’m sorry,” he said. He put his hand to his heart. “Did I break us? Is that what’s happening here? You and I were... we were always...” His chin wobbled. “I thought I was doing the right thing for us. Because it’s been you and me, always. Never a doubt. And then he came along...” He shook his head and ran his hand through his hair.

My god, he looked so wrecked.

“And then he came along,” I repeated.

“And now you won’t look at me,” he said, a tear running down his cheek. “I ended things with him to save us, and I broke us anyway.”

“We didn’t need saving,” I said. “He did. Kylan needs saving, not us. That poor boy. God knows what he’s going through right now.”

Leon groaned and pulled at his hair. “You don’t think I know that? You don’t think I care?”

“Then why?” I yelled at him. “Why did you let him leave?”

“Because I love him,” Leon yelled back.

And out of all the things, all the many things I might have expected him to say, that was not one of them.

“I love him,” he said again, quieter this time. “And it scares me to death. That’s why.”

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