Page 40 of For Your Heart
“I don’t know,” I say. “Because he walked out of our lives and didn’t turn back. I know it’s our fault. I get that. But if we’re ready to apologize, is he going to want to hear it or did we fuck it up so bad that he’s just… gone? For good?”
Tears sting my eyes as my voice wavers on the last few words. He can’t really be gone, can he? The pain that echoes through my entire body isn’t just from me. Declan feels the loss more right now, too. Because I’m talking about it.
Sorry.
“Love you.”
I smile and cover my face. Fuck, I feel like an idiot.
Sage’s hand wraps around my wrist, and he gently pulls my hand away. “I think when enough time passes, he’ll come around. And your empty future? That just means you get to build it with another dream, Damon. Mine was written for me once, too. But now I get to write it how I want to see it.”
“You’re a really great guy, Sage,” I say. I slip my hand free and wrap it around his neck, pushing my fingers into his hair again. “Thanks for this. I think we both needed it.”
He nods. “Can I kiss you now?”
Laughing, I nod. For the rest of the evening, we make out. And I don’t let him come again until I’m ready to leave. I enjoy leaving him sated from a hard-earned orgasm right before I walk out the door.
Fourteen
DAMON
I’m exhaustedby the time I get home. The day itself wasn’t anything extraordinary as far as physical exertion is concerned, but it was emotionally draining. I feel wrung out in a way that is completely unfamiliar.
I’m used to the emotional stress. I’ve been living with it since Simon got his ‘job’ and it’s only escalated every single fucking day since. It’s recently settled into a dark emotional pit of misery, but at least it’s remained consistent. Not lessening, but at least it’s not growing anymore. Consistently miserable and lost.
It could be worse, right?
I’m not sure anything inside me has changed. The hurt and absence that’s clung to me like a second skin since Simon walked out the front door hasn’t left. It’s still there, making my skin too tight. Or maybe too loose. Is there a difference? Both are equally awful for different reasons.
I’m still standing just inside the door, taking mental inventory when Declan walks in. I don’t have time to turn and he’s on me, wrapping his arms around my stomach and pressing his face to the back of my head.
“You’re fucking exhausting,” he says. The fatigue in his voice is just as clear as it is throughout my entire body.
“I was thinking that,” I say.
He snorts. Yeah, no kidding, right?
“Shower,” he says, and we strip along the way.
I like the routine. Something that hasn’t changed even since Simon’s departure. Does he still shower as soon as he gets up? And then right before he goes to bed? It wasn’t so much about getting clean as it was a place where we decompressed together in the silence. Rested in the quiet harmony that was the gently falling water.
We stand together under the spray and close our eyes. I can talk as if we’re one becauseI knowthat’s exactly what he’s doing. I know, as if I were doing it inside his body.
“You glossed overthis,”he says, his fingers slipping into mine.
“Yep. I figured one weird ass relationship at a time,” I answer.
He laughs quietly, but we stand still. Enjoying the water and the quiet. The calm.
“Are you going to tell him?” he asks.
“Are you going to tell this guy you’re fucking?” I counter.
He snorts. “Should I? Does it matter?”
But I can feel what he does, so he can’t lie to me. Declan sinks into my side and I wrap my arm around his waist, pulling him close. “I don’t know,” I admit, kissing his shoulder. “Maybe it does.”
“Do you feel profoundly different?”
