Page 43 of The Truth of Loving You

We hadn’t turned the lights on in his bedroom, but the living room light backlit him with a halo effect. My pretty boy angel.

“We have this ridiculous notion that romantic love has a limit. Love is not a pie. You would never tell a parent that they could only love one of their children at a time. Or tell siblings they had to choose their favorite and love only them. When my sister has another child, I will love them as much as Isaac. If you experience romantic love, and it ends, for whatever reason, your heart grows again when you find someone else to love. Love expands your heart to epic proportions.

“Your wedding ring is more than a symbol of marriage; it’s a symbol that you found a soulmate in Paxton. I know you think you’ll never love again, but I hope someday you find someone to love. They won’t ever replace Paxton, but your heart can enlarge and make room for someone else.”

Shane’s bottomless brown eyes reflected all the sincerity in his heart, and his words sliced me open. Maybe because he was sure he wouldn’t be around if and when I’d be ready to love again. My heart ached in a way I’d never anticipated.

“I never wore my ring when we were married.” I blinked, surprised at my confession.

Shane reared back, almost toppling off the bed. His silence gave me a minute to decide whether I wanted to talk about it.

“It wasn’t important to me.” I slid the ring above my knuckle to show Shane the tattoo of Pax’s initials on my finger. “We tattooed our initials on our ring fingers after college when we lived in London. We made a commitment to be with each other forever. To me, our initials represented that commitment because gay marriage wasn’t legal yet,” I said as Shane snuggled in close and stroked my arm for comfort.

“We exchanged rings when we got married, but I told Pax it bothered me when I tattooed. It doesn’t. It didn’t. I wanted to see his initials on my skin. But it upset him that I didn’t wear it. We compromised, and I wore it when we went out with people from his work or to professional events.” I threw my forearm over my eyes.

Ruining an amazing round of sex with this admission had been a mistake.

“You feel guilty,” Shane stated.

“I’m guilty of a lot of things,” I replied.

Guilty that I wasn’t good enough for Shane. I brought too much darkness and pain. Shane deserved a man with a whole heart. He deserved to be someone’s one and only love. I couldn’t bring myself to say that out loud. I was selfish and wanted him for myself.

“Judging in retrospect is easy. We can all look back and know what the best course of action was. But being in the moment and knowing what’s right for now and in the future... that’s damn near impossible.” Shane lifted my arm off my face to look me in the eye. “Don’t feel like you have to do something you’re not ready to do. You can wear Paxton’s ring until you die and still fall in love with someone else.”

No one else would ever understand. Not the way Shane did.

Chapter twenty-three

Shane

Colehadbeendistantsince his confession about his wedding ring.

I’d set up the new computer system and run all the tests to identify potential problems as promised. I’d also installed the program on the computer in his office so he wouldn’t have to go up front to find or print reports. He expressed his gratitude and offered to pay me.

It was ridiculous, but his offer to pay me felt degrading. I’d wanted to help; he’d never asked me to create a program for him.

Alec had asked me if I wanted to meet them at Pink Titanium next weekend, but I declined. It didn’t take a genius to know Cole didn’t want me there. I shouldn’t feel slighted because I’d agreed to friends with benefits who only saw each other at my apartment. But Cole had cracked the door into his past, and I wanted to bust it open.

Maybe he’d already detoxed from us, and we were over.

Usually, we’d have set up a night to meet by now. No, usually we’d have had at least one other session since last week with plans for another. I’d begun to take for granted that being with Cole improved my sleep habits and stress level. He hadn’t touched me when I’d returned to his shop.

My phone pinged and like an addict, my hands shook seeing Cole’s name. He wanted me to meet him at the shop tonight at 8 p.m. I should tell him no. I should make him wait for an answer. Of course, I did neither.

I flew through my projects with precision and determination. I’d taken Cole’s advice and asked several of the VPs what they needed to complete the reports necessary for the quarterly review. I’d let them dictate how they wanted to submit the reports while I offered suggestions for code and data storage to make the gathering of information easier.

They were extremely receptive, and I began implementing the changes. The changes weren’t as comprehensive as I would have liked, but it was a huge first step. It would increase the VP’s departments productivity, and that would make my job easier.

Today, I didn’t stop to explain my process to my staff. Today was about delivering the completed projects to the managers and getting under Cole. I didn’t even investigate why I’d been mysteriously locked out of the database I needed to access in order to finish balancing my spreadsheets. A problem for another day.

Needy and shaking as any true addict, I flung the door open to Unframed Art at 7:57 p.m. Alec flinched in surprise as the door hit the glass window and slammed shut when it bounced back. I did not have the patience to wait three minutes outside to follow the rules. Alec’s surprise had morphed into a smug, wicked grin.

“Cole, your 8 p.m. is here!” he yelled over his shoulder.

What. The. Fuck.

I stomped down the hall after Cole, but instead of going into his office, he turned into his station. It was hard to know if I should be even angrier or relieved. He’d sort of apologized, but my anxiety filled my ears with the sound of my heartbeat.

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