“Sure. I’ll be fine,” he said.
Only, his voice was cold, dull, and lacked any sign of life. He sounded…empty.
“Who is Will?” he asked, gently.
As a Fed, Alex could read the room, and this time, it said one thing.
His partner was in pain.
Alex watched his shoulders sag, and that tremor move through his body at that one question.
He wasn’t sure he’d answer.
But he did.
“He was my husband. Death took him from me, and sometimes, I dream about him. He had been my whole world, until he wasn’t.”
Alex was surprised.
What?
No, he was completely caught off guard by that.
Why?
He hadNOclue that Corbin was gay.
They really didn’t talk about relationships, but the one time he did, all he said was that he’d just gotten out of a relationship, but he didn’t say what went down or with who.
He kept it vague.
Now, he understood.
There was a little wobbly in Alex’s belly, and he didn’t understand that flutter.
It was like when he’d first met Noah, and he found out that he’d been gay too.
Because he needed to know—more so for his own curiosity than anything else, Alex went there.
“How did he die?” he asked, assuming that the man wouldn’t tell him.
But he did.
Slowly, Corbin let out a breath, and it was somewhere between exhaustion and a sigh. The whole time, he still was not looking at him.
Why?
He could smell Will’s cologne, and he needed to run. The dream was still fresh and raw, battering his heart and brain.
Corbin had few choices.
It was run, or it was die by his own hand.
He told him the truth, and Corbin didn’t understand why. Maybe it was to explain himself, or to make penance for nearly shooting the man in bed.
“He was murdered.”
Well, shit.
