Page 51 of Kylan

I shook my head, confused and unsure. “What? Why?”

“Because you are my entire world,” he said, tears streaming down his cheeks. “The love of my life. My one and only.” He sighed. “And then he came along. And it wasn’t just you anymore. I love him the same as I love you, and it terrifies me. He was too close. He’s too... Fuck, I couldn’t risk losing you, so what else was I supposed to do, Marek? Tell me. How can I love someone else that isn’t you?”

I went to him, this beautiful, frustrating, too-proud man, and thumped him on the chest. “You love himwithme. You were supposed to love himwithme, Leon. We love him together as much as we love each other. God, we fucked this up so badly. He was crying out for help and we fucked it up. We ruined that poor boy and any hope he had of trusting us, loving us.”

Leon scrubbed his face. “How could we do that? How could we be more than we already were? You want to make him a part of us? For real? How can a third person join a marriage?”

“He was already a part of us. He was alreadyinour marriage, Leon. Nothing had to change, except to love him even more.”

He still looked torn, unsure.

“I know you’re worried about us,” I whispered. “And I get that. Hell, I am too. But Leon, he changed us. Who we were before him is not who we are anymore, and I don’t know if we can ever go back to that. I see you with him and I love you more than I ever did before. I would watch you be with him, tend to him, love him, and it made me love you so much more. And that shouldn’t be possible, but it is.”

Then I poked him in the chest.

“But you hurt me when you sent him away. And fuck knows how much you hurt him because he won’t reply to my texts, and I’m so fucking mad at you. You need to fix this. You need to make this right, Leon. And pray to god that boy forgives us because I will be mad at you for-fucking-ever if he doesn’t.”

And then my phone rang, startling us both.

Kylan’s name flashed on the screen and I snatched it up. “Hello? Kylan, baby. Please tell me you’re okay?”

There was a beat of silence.

“Uh, no. It’s not Kylan. It’s Fitch. Is this Leon or Marek? Which one am I speaking to?” he asked sharply. “I guess it doesn’t fucking matter. I don’t give a fuck which one of you this is. I need to know what you did to him. What the fuck did you do to him?”

My mind scrambled, panic starting to build. “What... what’s wrong? What happened, please, is he?—”

“Save your bullshit. Get your arses over here right now and fix whatever the fuck you did to him.” There was a beat of silence. “Now.”

SEVEN

KYLAN

I don’t remember much.

I remember walking home, no thoughts, just one foot after the other. I have no recollection if I saw anyone, spoke to anyone.

I remember walking into an empty flat, grateful Fitch wasn’t home.

I wanted to yell and scream, and I wanted to let it all out. I wanted to scream until my throat was sore, I wanted to pummel something until I dropped to the floor.

But no.

I took it inward.

It was safer that way.

Put it all in a box, closed the lid, locked it tight, and shut everything down until I felt nothing.

Until there was nothing left to feel.

It was safer that way.

It’s what got me through this fucking life. It’s what got me through a lot of things.

It would get me through this.

Though it sure as fuck didn’t feel like it.

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