“Only to those who know how to recognize it.”
He offers me his joint, but I shake my head. It’s tempting, but my head’s already a mess. Getting stoned won’t help.
“She’s leaving soon. I don’t think I’ll survive it.”
“Don’t let her go, mate.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It’s as simple as you make it.”
“I wish that were true.” I could have made that my motto at the start, but I didn’t, and now I’m dealing with the consequences.
He clamps a hand on my shoulder. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”
This time, I don’t have faith in my ability to un-fuck the things I’ve fucked up. If I tell her the truth, she’ll go running straight to my twin, and I’ll have sent her back into his arms heartbroken and hurting like I thought I wanted all along.
That is the last thing I want now.
I don’t want to send her back at all.
I want to hold on to her tight and never let go.
“I’ve fucked up real bad this time, Con.” Setting my mug down on the wicker coffee table, I bury my head in my hands.
“Remember we’re all fuckups, Dil, in our own way, and bad situations don’t always end up so bad.” With those parting words, he gets up and leaves.
I don’t know how long I sit out there before Viv finds me.
“Hey.” My spine locks up at her soft seductive tone. She drops into the seat Conor vacated as I look at her. “Are you okay?”
It hurts to look at her. The pain eviscerating me on the inside is so extreme I wonder if this is what a heart attack feels like. I look away, resuming staring at the sea. “I’m fine,” I lie.
“Dillon. Please look at me.”
I don’t know if I can bear it, but I can’t ignore her either. Slowly, I turn my head and stare into her beautiful face. Concern is splayed across her features. “What is it? What’s troubling you?”
“I’d have thought that was obvious, Viv.”
Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips as she nods. She hands me a hot cup of coffee. “Are we going to talk about it?”
“What’s the point?” I nurse the mug in my hands, willing the heat to seep into my chilled bones. My heart aches when she rests her head on my shoulder.How am I going to live without this?
“I hate this.”
“Me too.” I link our fingers, and we’re both lost in thought as we drink our coffee and stare at the sea.
Tension is palpable in the air, so pungent I can almost taste it.
“You said some stuff last night,” she says sometime later just as we put our empty mugs down.
My panic is immediate, and my entire body locks up. I was completely locked last night, and I don’t remember much after she sang except holding her on my lap and touching and kissing her in between knocking back far too many beers.What the fuck did I say?Butterflies multiple in my chest, and my mouth turns dry.
“You don’t remember?”
I shake my head, trying to calm down. If I’d said anything damaging, she wouldn’t be looking at me with compassion. She’d be glaring at me like she wants to claw my eyeballs out and feed them to me. I doubt she’d still be here if I’d blurted the truth. She’d have run a million miles away from me by now. Rotating my shoulders, I attempt to lessen the tension cording them into knots. “What did I say?”
“That you had something to tell me but you were scared.”
