Nero’s eyes were closed, but his dark words still hit Lenny like a train. He sat up and climbed into Nero’s lap, paying the half-empty carriage no heed. “You scare me when you say stuff like that.”
“I’ve never said that before.”
“I mean your tone. It’s like you’ve got a shadow you can’t escape.”
“Just the one?”
“Open your eyes, Nero. Please?”
Nero opened his eyes. Bloodshot and drunk-blurred, they were as hard to read as ever, but a flash of resignation in them made Lenny feel reckless. He gripped Nero’s hands, stroking his thumb over the stump of his missing finger, and pressed their foreheads together. “Tell me who you are.”
“Why?”
“Nero.”
“Why?”
The temptation to bang their heads together was strong. Lenny pressed harder into Nero, like he could push Nero’s every hurt out the other side. “I want you to be free.”
“I am free.”
“No, you’re not.”
Nero shifted Lenny from his lap and stood. “Why are you so convinced you know what’s going on in my fucked-up head all the time?”
“I’m not convinced of anything.” Lenny spoke quietly even as Nero’s words lanced his heart. “Don’t you get it? I don’t know you at all, and it’s fucking with my head.”
“So? What do you want me to do about it? Tell you my life story so you can sleep at night? ’Cause trust me, Lenny, it don’t work like that, ’cause there ain’t nothing I can say that’ll give you the dreams you deserve.”
“What dreams are they?”
“Not mine.”
Nero’s dark, hard gaze softened, but only briefly. Lenny stood too and fell into him as the train swayed, but Nero pushed him away.
“I know what you’re saying, Lenny, ’cause I’ve heard it before. You’re telling me you can’t be with me because I’m a closed book and I won’t share my feelings, and that makes you think I don’t care, right?”
Nero’s tone was mocking enough for Lenny to flinch. “I never said you didn’t care.”
“Yeah, but you’ve assumed I don’t.”
“That’s not true. I know you care about me, about Cass. You give a shit about the people who give a shit about you.”
“If you gave a shit about me, Lenny, you’d leave me alone.”
“Leave you alone?”
“Leave this alone. Whatever. You can’t fix this. The damage is done, and it ain’t going nowhere.”
“Nero.” Lenny grabbed Nero’s arm as the train rumbled to a stop. “I’m not trying to fix you. How naïve do you think I am? I’m just saying we can’t go on like this. I want to be with you, in every way, I fucking love you, for God’s sake, but—”
“You love me?” Nero’s bitter laugh cut Lenny to the bone. “Pull the other one, mate. I don’t know jack about whatever picture you’re trying to paint, but you don’t love me. I’m a stranger, remember? And that ain’t going to change.”
The train doors opened. Nero wrenched his arm from Lenny’s grasp, slipped through the doors, and walked away.
Lenny watched him go, mouth open, heart shattered. His brain hadn’t read the mess between them as concisely as Nero’s apparently had, but as Nero disappeared into the crowds at Liverpool Street, he knew with a painful certainty that Nero was right. Without trust, they had nothing, and as long as Nero kept his soul under lock and key, nothing was all they’d have.
Lenny went home. What else was there to do? Stumbling drunk and missing the chunk of his heart Nero had taken with him, he couldn’t think of a sensible alternative.
