No, I don’t want to lose Declan. I don’t know if I can lose another love to this man and survive it.
That means I need to figure out how the hell to make this work, the three of us,together.
He and Declan belong together. Separating them means two miserable men instead of one. I don’t have the heart to do that to either of them.
Some sadist I am, huh?
I keep my voice soft, so he’s forced to focus. “We can’t keep doing things like this, George. Somethinghasto change.”
He slowly nods. “Just tell me what you need from me.Please?”
Maybe part of my problem is I spent so many years silently dying inside, watching him and Ellen be happy, and he never suffered a second during all that time for what he did to me.
No, that’s not rational. I don’t know.
“Why should I let this continue?” I ask. “Not just between you and him, but leaving the door open to something between all three of us?”
He deflates and slumps against the counter, his chest caving and shoulders rounding.
Ihatethat it guts me to see it happen. Before our world hard-shifted beyond our control, I would have followed this man to hell and back despite him taking Ellen from me, because he didn’tknowthat’s what he’d done. It was no fault of his.
And I love him.
I’minlove with him.
You havenoidea how much that fucking terrifies me.
He slowly shakes his head.
I finish my gin and set the glass on the counter. “Somethinghasto change, George. I told you that I don’t trust you. I’m afraid you’re going to end up hurting Declan. Or maybe even me. I don’t just mean physically—I mean emotionally, too. I’m more worried about emotional pain. That could break him in bad ways. And professionally. He’s worked too damn hard to make it where he is to have a scandal ruin it all for him. I won’t let you do that do him.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I need to be able to trust you. Maybe I need to punish you, too. For taking her from me.”
He draws in a ragged breath. “I love you, Case,” he says. “I’m sorry you were in pain all those years. Ireallydidn’t know. I can’t take it back. I wish I could, but I can’t. Ican’tlose you.Please. I love you.”
I can’t give in. Not yet.
Not when he fought so fucking hard to come back to us.
“What are you willing to do?” I ask.
“Anything. What do you need from me? Tell me, and I’ll do it. Whatever it takes.”
I study him. He’s been broken and re-bound so many times, triggered by what he survived. Throughout all of that, he’s never trulydealtwith his pain. He did a little, once he was with Declan, but he’s hit a plateau and it doesn’t help that he self-medicates, first with work and now with Declan.
He’s never learned how to give in to it and honestlyprocessit. That he’s this torn up over it all is more proof he’s stuck on that pain, or he’d be fucking angry right now, not…demolished. I’m not talking about him grieving Ellen over some arbitrary timeframe, and I’m not trying to be a cold, heartless bitch, either. I mean he’sstuck, as if she just died yesterday.
He’s let his pain and grief wrap around him like toxic razor wire, and he’s been too afraid to move, much less free himself from it, because it gouges new wounds into his flesh every time he does. All Declan did was provide a temporary barrier.
Pot, meet Kettle.
Without the distraction of Declan, his pain digs in once more and cuts him right down to the bone, tightening around him with every breath he takes.
The difference between him and me is that I built up calluses over the years to protect myself, triggered by what I survived as a kid.
He hasn’t, and doesn’t know how.
