I shrug my shoulders in reply. “The reason he didn’t tell me who he was, was because he didn’t trust me enough to love him for him. That’s what hurts the most—him thinking he couldn’t trust me,” I mumble. “What’s a relationship without trust?”
“Did things blow up badly after I left?” Harper asks.
I nod into my hands and let out a shaky breath. “I said some things I shouldn’t have said. I was mad.”
“You have a reason to be mad, and I’m sorry you found out through me. That wasn’t fair.”
My eyes find hers. “I’m not sure he would have told me himself if it wasn’t for you.” I glance down and blink rapidly.
I won’t cry right now. I can’t cry in front of people. It shows weakness, and I’m not weak.
“They still have Simba’s body at their house. Do you mind going to get him for me?” My voice cracks as I remember my pup.
I want to bury him here, right in our backyard. I don’t know if that’s allowed, but frankly, I don’t care. I want him close.
Harper nods. Placing her carton down on my bedside table, she gets up. “I’ll get him for you, and I’ll also kick Leo in the dick for you.”
I smile and chuckle. Tears rush to my eyes when I think about him.
Running out of my room a minute later, she leaves the door wide open.
Damn …
* * *
I throw the shovel to the ground once I dig the hole deep enough. Dusting off the dirt from my hands, I look at Simba. I found the perfect box to put him in. It’ll protect him from bugs and other animals.
Wiping away the small tears that run down my face, I glance down at my boy. Bending down, I touch his golden fur for the last time. “I’m sorry I failed you.” My voice cracks. “You’re at peace now. Say hi to Dad for me.”
My hands shake as I take in the last sight of him before I cover the box with the lid. Crying silently, I place him in the ground. Standing straight up again, I bury him with the soil I dug up.
Feeling absolutely drained, I slump down and stare at the one source of happiness that I would have had left if only he’d survived the evils of this world.
THIRTY-EIGHT
TRINITY
It’s been days.
Days since I found out about Leonidas and the band.
Days since Simba died and I buried him.
Days since I was happy.
Days of me missing Leonidas.
Days of me sitting in my room with my curtains pulled to block the sunshine.
I wish he’d told me about himself. I know why he didn’t tell me. He wanted me to fall in love with him. But he had so many chances to confess. Yet I heard it from Harper.
I couldn’t care less that he’s a rock star. Deep down, I think it’s hot. I’m just hurt, and I’m going through thousands of battles in my head.
I’ve been holding back from searching for him on the internet. Do I want to see him like that? Something he expressed he’s not proud of? Yes and no.
I want to see what he looks like when blinding lights hit him from all directions, the way his voice sounds in a crowded stadium. I crave to see his sweaty body strumming a guitar, looking like a rock star. I shouldn’t be thinking of forgiving someone so easily. But I guess that’s what love does to you. It ties you with its ropes and never lets you go.
My head is a mess of questions, questions that only he’ll be able to answer.
