I don’t know what I’m going to say until I’m saying it. “I can’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“This.” I gesture between the three of us. “The careful distance. The not-talking. Watching you two circle each other like you’re both waiting for the other one to detonate.” My voice cracks, and I hate it. “I’ve spent four days terrified you were dead. Sitting across from Wyatt every morning, both of us pretending I couldn’t see the bruises on his throat. Trying to figure out how we went from us to... this.”
Chris’s jaw tightens. He doesn’t move.
“I know what happened Thanksgiving night. Wyatt told me.” I look at Wyatt, who’s watching me, his expression raw. “And I know about Vicente. Sadie let it slip when we were talking. I still can’t believe I spent most of the night smiling across the courtyard at a man who—” I stop. Breathe. “I’m not angry about the past. I’m angry that neither of you trusted me enough to tell me.”
“It wasn’t about trust,” Chris says quietly.
“Then what was it about?”
He can’t meet my eyes.
The tears come before I can stop them. Not the delicate kind. The ugly, frustrated kind that blur my vision and make my voice thick.
“I want to help you. Both of you. That’s literally what I do, and I’m good at it, and I love you, and I can’t—” I press the heels of my hands against my eyes. “I can’t fix this if you won’t let me in. I can’t even leave you alone to sort it out yourselves because I’m terrified of what happens if I do.”
“Nina.” Wyatt takes a step toward me. “We’re not going to?—”
“Not you.” I drop my hands, look at Chris. “I’m afraid of what you’ll do. To yourself. Because I know Wyatt told you to leave that night, and instead of coming to me, right across the hall, you went somewhere and did this to yourself.” I gesture at his battered face. “That’s what terrifies me.”
Chris flinches like I’ve hit him.
“Jesus, Chris.” The anger drains out of me, leaving something worse. “You look like you’ve been in a cage fight.”
His eyes cut away. His jaw tightens.
“Are you kidding me?” My voice goes up. “You actually—that’s what you’ve been doing for four days? Getting the shit beaten out of you for sport?”
He exhales through his nose, still not looking at me. His shoulders hunch slightly, caught.
“You dissociated. You had a trauma response. That’s not—it doesn’t make you a monster. It makes you someone who went through something terrible and hasn’t processed it yet.”
“I hurt him.” Chris’s voice is barely audible. “I could have killed him.”
“But you didn’t.” Wyatt, quiet and steady. “I’m right here. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. I saw your throat.”
“Bruises heal.” Wyatt moves closer, and Chris tracks the movement. “Yeah, you scared me. But you know what scared me more? What I did after. You came back to yourself, terrified, and my first instinct was to tell you to get out.” He spreads his hands in front of him. “I said the thing that triggered you. Then I sent you away instead of staying and facing it with you.” His voice roughens. “I’ve spent four days wishing I’d grabbed you and held on. So don’t tell me you’re the one who should feel guilty here.” He takes another step. “Nina’s right. Let us in.”
Chris’s face shifts. The wall behind his eyes that he’s been bracing against since we walked in cracks.
He turns toward the window. Not rigid this time. Defeated. His hands uncurl at his sides.
“I can’t control it,” he says quietly. “That’s the part I can’t—” He stops. Starts again. “Wyatt, when I’m with you, it’s like every wire in my brain gets crossed. I want you so badly I can’t think straight, and then something shifts and I’m back there, and I can’t tell if I’m touching you or hurting you or—” His voice breaks. “I almost killed the man I love because I can’t keep my fucking head on straight.”
The silence is absolute.
Wyatt’s gone completely still. I don’t think he’s breathing.
“Yeah.” Chris laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “I love you.” He looks at Wyatt first. “The night of Callie’s wedding, the way you touched me, no one had ever made love to me like that. I didn’t know a man could. I haven’t been able to forget it.”
Chris’s eyes shift to me. “And you. I’ve loved you since before I had any right to. Since you were the girl next door trailing after Callie. Then that kid my family took in when your dad couldn’t cope after you lost your mom. The rest didn’t start until your graduation, but you’ve been under my skin for as long as I can remember.”
“Chris—” Wyatt starts.
