August’s eyes were glimmering with tears. Quinn wanted to go to him, but he needed the truth before he ran his mouth and made everything worse.
“It’s so easy to walk out that door, Quinn—”
“It’s also easy for you to use your communication skills and tell me what’s wrong,” Quinn shot back. “Are you not hearing the subtle hints of me saying that I’m in love with you? We’re both fucked, and if the only way out is forward, then take my hand and let’s get through this together.”
August’s voice was shaky when he spoke.
“Alright. You’re in love with me, and I’m in love with you.” August took three deep breaths before he continued. “But the crazy thing is, I’ve never stopped loving you. I still love you as strongly as I did ten years ago. I just…forgot.”
Every function in Quinn’s body screeched to a halt, except for his mouth, because he spoke the words before he could think better of it.
“What do you mean youforgot?”
August winced as if Quinn had slapped him, but he kept talking.
Andthatwas how Quinn learned the full story about why August ghosted him. Sitting on the cold bathroom floor, his ribs threatening to crack from the panicked tightness in his chest, and vomit bubbling in his throat that he had to continually swallow down as he listened to the story.
He felt sick. He felt anguish. He felt fury, hate, rage and anger.
Most of all, he felt terror—terror not of August, butforhim. August was dissociating through most of his explanation, sounding robotic as he described how hekilledhis father and the fallout from losing his memories.
Quinn didn’t give a shit about any of that. What he couldn’t wrap his head around was how August had managed to be a successful, functioning human being after his mind had been broken. Somehow, he’d split himself apart so completely that the August from ten years ago, and every memory that belonged to him, had stopped existing.
That was why August didn’t recognize Esme. Why he struggled with faces and names. Why his personality had shifted after he moved away.
And why he’d ghosted Quinn.
It also explained the night at the charity ball and August’s reaction after they kissed. Quinn had unknowingly taken a sledgehammer to the repaired fractures in August’s mind and split them open again. Now the two versions of August were colliding, and his body was paying the price for it.
It was hard to accept that the stress Quinn had been helping August manage was something he’d caused himself. The realization pissed him off, but he leaned into the guilt and owned it. He hated that he’d done this—yet now that he knew how to fix it, there were more important things demanding his attention.
Quinn put the water bottle that had been sitting on the counter into August’s hands, making him take a drink before he sat back down.
“Is that everything?” he asked.
August held the blanket to his chest. “No.”
Quinn waited until August relented and explained.
“As fucked up as all that was, I was getting through it,” said August. “The plan was to woo you and keep you close until the season finished, and then I was going to ask you to be my boyfriend and go to therapy over the summer. It was working well, and I was feeling more confident about us, but then we went to the rink with your nieces and the final part I forgot about—it came back.”
Quinn hated how casually August was brushing off his mental breakdown, but he had a feeling he was about to learn why he had bolted the previous day.
“I felt awful because I knew you would blame yourself,” said August. “But when I heardhisvoice and sawhisface, it fucked everything up again. I couldn’t look at my phone because my mother was calling, and she’s connected to him, so I couldn’t tell you why I left. And then I decided it would be better not to contact you at all, so you wouldn’t be dragged into this.”
Sensing that something terrible was about to be revealed, Quinn crossed the space separating them and climbed onto August’s lap. Once they were wrapped around each other and Quinn’s fingers were raking through soft, white hair, he braced himself.
“You need to call your friend and tell her not to bring her kid to the rink anymore,” August said softly—distantly. “You need her to tell every parent there not to return, and youcan’tbring the twins there ever again.”
Oh god.
Oh fuckinggod.
Coach Perry’s familiar interaction with August had happened right before he bolted, and if Quinn was putting things together correctly—
“Quinn, I remembereverything.”
Quinn felt his blood run cold.
