“The girls talked me into sitting up with them. It’s not like I’m sleeping properly anyway,” she says. “And I… I miss you.”
A scoff slips out before I can stop it. “I’m here all the time.”
Her face falls. “No, you’re not. Not really. You leave before breakfast. You come home after dark. And when you are here, you lock yourself away in here. I never see you anymore.”
I swallow hard, jaw clenching. She’s not wrong. But if I stay close, she’ll feel the guilt leaking out of me. She’ll feel the blame Iput on myself every waking second.And I’ll have to keep looking at that sadness in her eyes.
“You haven’t been eating anyway,” I mutter, instantly regretting it as soon as the words hit the air. “What’s the issue if we don’t eat together?”
She flinches. That tiny wince. Like I’ve hit her. “Fuck—Eden, I didn’t mean it like that,” I rush out. “I’m sorry.” Silence hangs between us, thick enough to choke on. “I just…” I rub my face. “Things are busy. I’m working on a new deal and I can’t—” I stop myself. She doesn’t need club shit on top of everything else. “It’s just complicated.”
“So I don’t get to know anything?” she whispers.
I look at her. She’s tired. Thinner. Haunted. And still she’s trying. For us. For me.
“I’m not trying to shut you out,” I force out. “I’m just dealing with things my way.”
“And I’m dealing with things alone,” she replies softly.
I ball my fists, then stand, because sitting feels too stagnant, too suffocating. “Look, I’ll come to bed tonight. Okay? I promise.”
Her eyes lift, shining with hope. “Really?”
“Yeah.” I manage another smile, this one barely more than a twitch. “Really.”
She nods and steps back. “Okay.” When the door clicks shut behind her, I drop into the chair again and let the guilt swallow me whole.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
KADE
I don’t make it to bed. Not that night. Not the night after. And then, two weeks have passed, and I still can’t bring myself to go near Eden. The second she left my office that night, I already knew I was going to break my promise. The guilt of avoiding her just settles in my ribs alongside all the other guilt I’m carrying. A permanent ache.
“You gonna talk about it?” Diesel asks, eyes fixed ahead, voice low.
I exhale sharp, rubbing the back of my neck. “What? The plan?”
He scoffs. “No, not the plan. Jesus, if you go over that shit again, I’m gonna cut my ears off.”
A laugh slips out before I can stop it, but there’s nothing funny in me. Maybe Ihaveoverdone the planning, but I can’t let a single thing go wrong. Not with this.
“Eden,” he adds simply, like that’s not loaded with heaviness.
I tense. “Why do you want me to talk about my ol’ lady?”
“Is she?” He turns just enough that I can feel him watching me. “Your ol’ lady, I mean.”
I scowl now, heat clawing up my spine. “What the fuck are you getting at? You wanna say something, D, then say it.”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Fine. I will. I did some research—”
I bark a hollow laugh. “Christ, you really should get out more. You’re starting to sound like Fern.”
He doesn’t rise to it. That’s how I know he’s serious. “There are groups,” he says, sighing. “Support groups. For men, or relatives, of people who’ve been…” He trails off.
I clench my jaw so tightly my teeth ache. “Raped,” I snap. “Say it, D. Raped.”
His eyes flick away, jaw locking. “Raped,” he repeats quietly. “Maybe it’ll help. Talking, I mean.”
