I jolt as someone stumbles into my room. The door was wide open, since Antonio didn’t bother to close it, but I’m still used to most people knocking. When I notice who it is, my heart hammers hard. This is not good.
Cristian raises his head to look at me, and the sheer vastness of pain in his eyes…it takes my breath away. Fear envelops me. Shit, did something happen to Roman?
“Cristian…what happened?” I hold out my hand as he falls into the chair next to me. He reaches out with a shaky hand and grasps mine. “Is Roman?—?”
“It’s not Roman. Although he’ll probably want to kill me when we get him back.”
That makes no sense to me. Yes, Cristian messed up, just as I have, but from everything I’ve seen, Roman is strong enough to, if not forgive, at least not be reactive.
Fuck, how the hell did we burn our worlds down so thoroughly?
Shaking off my meandering thoughts, I ask, “Then what is it, Sweetheart?”
He gives me a pained smile at the term of endearment. “Carter…he officially ended things with me. He’s…happy now. With Marcus and Keegan. He’s ready to move on. But how do I move on without him? How do I pick up the shattered pieces of my heart and walk away? I know I made mistakes, but we’ve been together for so long…how is it so easy for him to leave?”
I swallow hard. Fuck. I have no words for him. I wish I did. I wish I could ease the misery he’s in. Hell, it reminds me that I haven’t had a chance to discuss things with Emilio either. This could be me. It could be me wondering how to go on living when my heart is crumbled to pieces, when all the light disappears.
“Sweetheart,” I whisper, squeezing his hand tightly. “I don’t know how you move past it. But I do know you’re strong. You’ll manage it, because there’s nothing else that can be done. I’m so sorry you’re hurting right now. I’m so fucking sorry.”
I wish he’d lean further into me, so I could brush those tears away. Fuck, I wish I could fix this, but there’s nothing I can do. I can’t make Carter stay with him. I’ve learned my lesson, controlis nothing but a figment of a person’s imagination. And life? No matter how many sandcastles you build, there’s always a chance a wave will come and erase them all.
So many years, and so many memories…losing all that has to be killing him, yet what choice does he have but to keep standing?
Fuck. It’s the same for me. What choice do I have but to keep moving? The Council made their decision to let us live, and maybe that’s the ultimate punishment. But then again…maybe it’s a chance to find out who we are supposed to be, because fuck knows I never should have been what my father twisted me into, and Cristian? Cristian, at his heart, is worth far more than he thinks he is.
He drops his head, his shoulders shaking from the sobs, and I pull at him, needing him closer. He lets go of my hand, but only long enough to bring the chair closer. I urge him silently to lay his head down on me, using my hand to guide him there. I hold him the best I can while his life shatters. Tears stream down my own face as I sit next to my friend, knowing he’s staring into the abyss alone, even though I’m right here.
Eventually, the cries quieten, but he doesn’t move. The silence becomes tenser, building into something I desperately want to ignore. But, of course, Cristian isn’t a coward…not like me. He takes a deep breath and lifts his head, looking at me with those sharp eyes of his, even though they’re rimmed in red.
“He told me to be happy. And to love you. He…knows.” Without looking away, he asks, “Do you…can you love me?”
Fuck. I’m standing on the edge of a precipice, and if I’m not careful, not only will I fall, but so will he. And I can’t do that to him. Searching the tattered edges of my soul, I give him the only answer I can, hoping it’ll be enough, but worried it won’t be.
"I fell in love with you in that concrete room, Sweetheart. But I don't know how to move on. I'm still in a cage myself. Fuck.Maybe Antonio was right, I need therapy. I need to be the man Lio deserves. The one the Boys believed in. And fuck…I need to be the man who can give you the world. But right now? Right now, I'm so much weaker—lost.
“Will you wait for me? Because I'm there with you. I need you and love you, but I don't know how to stand on my own feet yet, much less offer you the strength you need."
He closes his eyes, pain etched across his face, and I wish I could give him promises of forever. But right now, I can barely put one foot in front of the other, much less try to give him what he needs. And hell, he may not be able to admit it, but he’s not there either.
Shuddering, he nods. “Ti aspetterò. Sempre. Ma amore, non sei così indietro come pensi.”
I touch my chest, feeling that pain again, but this time, I let it ground me. I don’t deserve him, but the wish is there, the hope. Perhaps…perhaps this can be a beginning.
“Just…don’t give up on me.”
“Never,” he says fiercely and then, with a weak chuckle, adds, “And if it’s really therapy you want, I’m sure Doc has some names we could kidnap.”
Snorting, I shake my head. “I am aware. So does Sarah. I’ll take what they can give me. Because, Sweetheart…I’ll do whatever I can to be the man who can be there for you, who deserves those I love.”
“And that’s why I fell for you,” Cristian murmurs, as he lifts a hand and brushes the wetness lingering on my cheeks.
I purse my lips, not sure if I should dare to ask it, but fuck, if Cristian has the courage to lay it all out, so can I. “Then will you do it as well? Will you see someone, so we can move forward? Because it’ll only work if we both do it. I don’t want to be stuck in this fucking toxicity anymore. But I want you with me.”
Cristian’s body tenses, and he slowly removes his hand, looking away. “Is that a condition?”
“I can’t force you,” I say gently.
I hate that I can’t fix this. That there’s no magic wand that can at least make our beginning smoother. But if we’re going to have a beginning at all, he needs to meet me at the starting point.
