Page 95 of Full Split
The trip home is a blur. Thanks to the overwhelming press coverage and everyone alive walking around with a camera in their pocket, we’re set up with an upgraded flight where we’re shielded from view. No one talks.
Days pass in a haze. We should be celebrating. We should be happy. Instead, I’m hiding in my house. We all are. Like we’re criminals.
Weston isn’t speaking to me. I haven’t seen Wyatt since we got home. Our texts have dried up.
I’ve brought so much bullshit into his life that he shouldn’t have to deal with. If not for me, he wouldn’t be facing any of this. He could have serious repercussions, but I was too selfish and naïve to take that seriously.
Now he’s going to be punished. Weston is. Everyone associated with me will be.
I won gold. My dreams were coming true in a spectacular fashion.
I have everything I ever wanted.
But I fucked it all up.
CHAPTER 26
WYATT
I'm at a loss for what to do. My son and the man I love are both suffering, and it's my fault. If I was going to pursue this thing with Niles, I should have stepped far away from any official position as his coach. Because I didn't, not only am I hurting Weston and Niles' reputations, but I could hurt Sid's.
I haven't gone to see Sid yet. I've been able to avoid him for the few days that we've been home, and he has another surgery for his foot today, so that buys me a few more days. More days to waste away, trying to come up with more excuses.
God, what is wrong with me? How did I become this person?
The most fucked up part of it all is that all I can think about is Niles. About being with him. Holding him. Comforting him. Loving him.
There has to be something I can do to stop this.
On our third night back, there's a tap on the back door. It's so quiet, I almost think I'm hearing things, but there it is again. Ipull back the blinds and see Niles, in one of my hoodies and a baseball cap.
I unlock the door in a hurry and pull him inside. Before I can even say hello or ask him how he is, I pull him into my arms and crash my lips to his. I kiss him until I taste the salt from his tears.
"Oh, baby, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."
"How is it your fault? I'm the one he's after. You're just collateral damage."
We sit on the couch, but even a foot of distance between us is too much. I pull him into my lap. He rolls his eyes, but more tears fall, and my eyes are burning. I think I've cried more in the past few days than I have in years. Unlike Weston, I'm not much of a crier. I don't know where he gets it from. But, here I am, red-rimmed and weepy for probably the fifth time today.
"Oh, Jesus. Is it safe to come in here?" Weston asks from the hallway, covering his eyes.
"Are you serious?" I ask.
"Fuck you," Niles says, voice muffled in my neck.
Weston snorts out a small laugh, and some of the tension bleeds from the room. I let Niles have a few inches of space, but he stays next to me. Weston sits on the other end of the sectional and rests his elbows on his knees.
"Have you heard from anyone?" he asks Niles.
"Nothing useful," Niles answers. "Just more questions about my personal business. Legal actually asked for access to my dating apps."
"You're serious?" I ask.
Niles rubs his eyes. "I told them I'd deleted and disabled all the accounts already."
"I'm sure they appreciated that."
"They asked me why and proceeded to ask me questions about who I'm currently seeing, if anyone. They asked for a list, seeing as word has gotten out that I’m a slut.” He huffs sardonically. “I swear it felt like we were one step from a fake dating setup to make me look better to the press."
