Page 104 of Dark Room Junkie

He hesitated, but his weariness prevailed, and he sank back against my shoulder. Tenderly, I held him tight and kissed his hair. I felt his muscles tense slightly, and he clung to me again.

“My mother’s dead.”

His voice was barely a whisper and sounded so fragile. No one would have ever thought that he was the one who had screamed his soul out on stage last night.

“I’m sorry,” I replied.

Noé wiped away a tear and tried to turn away from me, but I didn’t let him go. He struggled but had no strength, so ultimately he had no choice but to cry on my chest.

“It’s okay,” I whispered, stroking his head. “She was still your mother, despite everything.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“That I didn’t tell you the truth.”

I wasn’t sure if I understood what he meant. I had been just as much of a mess in the past few weeks, trying to convince everyone that everything was fine.

“Sometimes there’s no room for the truth,” I said, kissing him on the damp cheek.

“But you deserved to know.”

I bit my bottom lip, feeling helpless because it was exactly the same the other way around. “My father …” I started, taking a deep breath before continuing. “He was into boys. I was eleven when he came into my room one night and abused me.”

Noé held onto my arm as if he wanted to give me strength. “This is bad,” he muttered.

“The next day … that’s when I found him. He had hanged himself. After that, everything went downhill. I still dream about that night ... what he did to me. But what was really bad was when I realized I was gay. Everything somehow got mixed up in my head. I was so afraid of becoming like him that at some point it all became too much for me and I wanted to take my own life out of desperation. But I caught myself again, and for a few years now, I truly believe everything is fine. Until I was supposed to do this report on chemsex parties and ended up with Livio. And before I knew it, I had a relapse.”

“I’m sorry for that.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “It happened so quickly that I didn’t even realize what was happening to me. Little by little, the doors to old memories open in my head. And then my mother came with this damn confession. When she found out something was wrong, she gave my father a reprieve. If he didn’t have these, he would never have come to my room that night. I didn’t know that until now, and she told me about it pretty bluntly.”

“You were in the hospital,” Noé murmured against my shoulder.

“Yeah, I had respiratory depression.”

“Was it my fault?”

“No ... well ... maybe a little,” I replied with a smile.

But he didn’t find it funny at all and clung even tighter to me.

“I’ve got myself back under control,” I stated, caressing his head. “I’ve been able to work through a lot in the past few weeks. By now, I’ve almost sorted out all my crap again, except for one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You.” I was hoping he’d finally look at me, but he just hid more. “Noé, please, come home with me.”

I felt him stiffen in my arms. With great effort, he pulled away from me, sat with his back against the wall, and wiped his watery eyes.

“For a night? No, thanks, I’d rather stay here.”

Surprised, I sat up. “Not for a night. Move in with me.”

I could practically see the icy armor forming around him, his gaze becoming more defensive.

“Are you crazy? Or back on drugs?” As harsh as the words were, his voice sounded tired and broken.

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