Page 56 of Kylan

He’d changed me.

I fell in love with him. I’d put it down to infatuation. A fleeting crush. The way he made my heart sing, the way he looked at me, how he looked at Marek; I was infatuated with everything about him.

I kept telling myself that’s all it was.

As I’d told myself that Marek was infatuated with him too, that he had a crush on him the way I did.

That Marek and I were in love, and what we had with Kylan was different to that.

It had to be, right?

I couldn’t possibly love another man the same way I loved Marek. I would never do that to him. He was the absolute love of my life. The reason my heart beat, the reason I woke up in the morning.

He was everything to me.

How could someone else be that as well? How could someone be equal to Marek in my life?

I couldn’t let that happen . . .

Or so I’d thought.

To see Marek shy away from me, to feel him pulling back, was the most frightening thing to ever happen to me.

The thought of losing him almost killed me.

Like losing Kylan . . .

How could I have known Marek would feel the exact same? How could I know that I would cause Marek the same pain as I’d caused Kylan.

That I’d caused myself.

I couldn’t lose Kylan any more than I could lose Marek.

That was very fucking clear to me now.

When Fitch had called and told us Kylan wasn’t well, everything changed.

Priorities.

Pride.

We’d raced over, welcomed by a seething Fitch. He had every right to be mad at us. I’d seen him on Wylde Street and I’d seen the photo Dominic had once shown us, so I knew who he was.

He was protective of Kylan, and I’d be forever grateful that he’d called us. And that he’d called us out on our behaviour. I added phoning Dominic to my long list of things to do.

But getting Kylan home was my priority. Getting him showered and fed, getting him seen to by a doctor, getting him whatever he needed was my priority.

Righting this wrong.

Marek and I got him showered and dressed into some comfortable clothes and tucked him into bed. He sipped some electrolytes and took some Panadol with some juice and ate half a sandwich, but he really needed to sleep.

So we sat on the side of his bed and tucked him in. I held his hand and Marek stroked his hair until he was sound asleep.

When we left Kylan to sleep, leaving the door to his room ajar, I pulled Marek into my arms as soon as we were in the hall, and we held each other so tight.

I would never take him—either of them—for granted again.

“I love you,” I whispered.

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