Most of the time, the hits of relief were worth it. One more drink. A little baggie of powder or a joint passed between partners. Another anonymous hookup. My vices were the bright spots I craved when so much of my day-to-day life was lived alone, in darkness.
That’s the thing about trauma. It thrives in the dark. It flourishes when it’s pushed down and cast aside. Pretending like something never happened is the surest way to guarantee the memory of it sticks around forever.
“I hate that.” He wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to forget anything, baby. What we went through back in Montreal? What we had to do? None of it was okay. But I’m still holding on to hope thatwecan be okay, if we’re together.”
I let his words sink in, will them to be true, as we lie in each other’s arms.
He brushes his lips over my forehead and pulls back a fraction.
“I don’t want you to try to forget. I could never forget you, mon ange. There’s no point in even trying. You own me completely. You’re etched into the essence of who I am.” He ducks, averting his gaze, but quickly forces his eyes back up to mine. “Please tell me you feel the same.”
I do. But I’m terrified to admit it.
Seconds of charged silence tick by before I finally say, “I’m scared, Ty.”
“It’s okay.” He tightens his grip around my shoulders. “We’ve faced scary things before.”
He’s oversimplifying the situation, and we both know it. This isn’t just about us. It’s about us and our past and what he dreams of for our future. It’s about the two other men I care about and how they’ve irrevocably changed me in just a few short months. It’s about connection and sacrifice, a willingness to bend and adapt to unconventional circumstances. It’s about what and whoI want and how that differs from what I suspect Ty is willing to accept. These aren’t “scary things.” They’re downright terrifying truths, and they have the power to destroy me, mind, body, and soul.
Rather than cower and keep my thoughts to myself, I dig deep and find the nerve to face the scary and just come out with it.
“I want to be with you, Ty. And I want to be with them, too.”
His body goes rigid, but I expected as much.
Weaving my fingers into the short hairs at his nape, I inch closer and kiss his neck.
“I want you. I want you so badly it aches. I’ve dreamed about being with you for years. In my mind, it was always supposed to be you and me. But… life happened. Things changed. I changed. Since moving to Holt, I’ve actually started to like the person I’m becoming, and that’s largely in part because of Mercer and Noah. Because of who I am when I’m with them and how they challenge and support me. I won’t give them up,” I confess against his throat.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and when he speaks, his words are low and rough. “I won’t lose you again.”
“I don’t want you to let me go. I just need you to accept that I need them, too.”
He clenches his jaw, his molars grinding against each other.
His reaction may not be a happy one, but he’s still here with me. He’s listening. Scared but holding on to a tiny bit of hope, I say, “There’s a solution somewhere here. There must be.”
He groans, his hands balling into fists behind my back. “I don’t understand what you’re asking me to do.”
I shrug, but I keep pushing. “I don’t either. At least, not yet. All I need is the assurance that you’re willing to acknowledge that they’re in my life. That you’re at least willing to try to accept them.”
Ty closes his eyes, his steady breathing the only sound between us. Several seconds pass, each one painful and hopeful, tense and morose. I oscillate between wanting to give him time to process and wanting to beg him to put me out of my misery and answer me already. By some miracle, I resist the urge to push. He deserves time to digest the details and really consider if it’s possible for him to give me what I’m asking for.
If the answer is no… I don’t know what I’ll do.
Shit. That thought brings fresh tears to my eyes. My dream is his personal hell. We’re on polar ends of an impossible situation… but something has to give if we ever want to move forward.
Eventually, he sighs and offers a concession. “You know I’d do anything for you, mon ange.”
I hold my breath for a beat, processing his words, my heart leaping into my throat. “Including being willing to try?”
“Yeah, baby,” he relents, bringing his lips to my forehead. “I’m willing to try.”
A creak from across the room makes me jump and sends my pulse racing.
Ty winces, and I mouthsorry, then turn, finding Mercer standing in the doorway, his eyes wide.
“You’re awake.” His gaze is unfocused and skittish as he scans his own room.
