We lay in bed together until it’s time to go to dinner. Dressing in silence, we move around each other in the bedroom and bathroom like we’ve been doing this dance together our whole lives. The little touches on the waist as we pass each other. When we catch each other’s gaze in the mirror. The way he hands me the deodorant right when I need it, without me asking.
It’s so simple. So normal. So domestic. But it fills me up with this deep, rich happiness I’ve never felt before. Like this is where I was always meant to be. Like this is where I belong. With Hayden. Sharing a life with him.
I want to tell him I love him. So badly sometimes I can physically feel the words on my tongue. So badly my chest feels tight with all the love just waiting to pour out. I don’t know if it’s the right time yet. I’m not sure how he’ll take it when he’sstill struggling so much. I want to wait until we get a diagnosis for him, until we have a plan of treatment in place and we’re not wandering blindly in the dark.
Until then, I’ll show him I love him with every word and every touch. With every moment of silence I spend holding him and every silly joke I crack to tease a smile out of him.
At the door of our hotel room, we pause.
“Ready?” I ask Hayden.
He’s chewing on his bottom lip. I reach up and tug it out from between his teeth with my thumb. Leaning in, I plant a kiss on the poor, abused lip.
I love you.I think in my head as loudly as I possibly can. Maybe he’ll hear it somehow. Maybe he’ll feel it. Maybe my love can help heal some of the brokenness he carries around inside.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
HAYDEN
I didn’t really want to go to dinner. What I wanted was to stay in the hotel room with Santino and listen to him talk more about his family. But Sebastian needed me to work the cameras and I couldn’t say no. And besides, everyone else would be there.
The hotel restaurant is nice. Everyone’s all dressed up. The food is really fancy. Everything looks great on the viewscreen of the camera I’m using, and honestly, concentrating on that might be the only thing getting me through the night. If I’m too preoccupied with making sure the footage is decent, then my brain can’t go rogue and spiral out of control. If I stay focused on the task at hand, there’s not enough room in my head for the voice to intrude.
The other thing helping me get through the night is Santino. He keeps glancing over at me when he should be paying attention to the scene. He casts small smiles in my direction, like we’re sharing little secrets just between the two of us. I might have more footage of Santino than anyone else, but I don’t care.
Sebastian stands from the table and waves me over. “Can you get a shot of Bellamy from this angle?” He shows me what he wants with his arm as a guide.
I line up the shot, then let Sebastian check it on the viewscreen.
“Perfect.” He slips back in his chair. “Action.”
At the end of the table, Bellamy stands and clinks the back of a knife against his champagne glass. A hush falls over the group. Gazing lovingly at Noel, Bellamy launches into the script Sebastian wrote for him.
He talks about how he and Noel are such an unlikely couple and how he was just as surprised as everyone else when their rivalry turned into love. He talks about how well they complement each other and how they help each other become better people. He talks about how he can’t imagine his life without Noel in it.
If I hadn’t already known Sebastian scripted the speech for him, I would’ve thought Bellamy was speaking off the cuff. The love shining in his eyes is so potent. The emotion in his voice is so visceral. There’s no way anyone can watch his speech and not think he and Noel are crazy in love.
A pang of longing hits me in the chest. I want what they have—so much it feels like a hunger gnawing at my insides. At the same time, a powerful, toxic anger simmers, threatening to boil over. I’m not even sure what I’m angry at, just that there’s this ball of ugliness lodged in my stomach that hates everything it sees. And over everything is this filthy, disgusting blanket of sadness and self-pity.
Why did this happen to me? What did I do to deserve this? Is this karma or something? Am I really such a bad person?
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Santino watching me. I don’t know if he can read the thoughts running through mymind. Or maybe he sees how my shoulders are hiked up to my ears, how my hands are shaking, how I’m struggling to breathe.
It takes everything I have to keep the damn camera in focus and pointed at Bellamy until he lifts the champagne glass for a toast. The second Sebastian yells cut, my arms fall to my sides and I almost drop the camera on the ground.
Santino’s next to me in a flash, taking the camera from my hands and safely depositing it on the table.
“Sorry, I…” I run my fingers through my hair. I don’t even know what I’m apologizing for anymore. For ruining the shot? For not being able to complete such a simple task? For distracting him from the scene? For being a giant pain in the ass who needs his hand held every fucking second of every fucking day?
God, what is wrong with me? Why am I like this?
The darkness rolls in on menacing, thundering clouds. It swirls around my head, obscuring my vision and blocking out sounds. I latch onto Santino, afraid if I let go, I’ll collapse on the floor in a useless heap of limbs.
“I’m here. I’ve got you.” Santino pulls me close and I stumble in the direction he guides me.
When he pushes me into a chair, I’m holding on to him so tightly, I nearly pull him down with me. Cradling my head against his stomach, he cards his fingers through my hair and rocks me side to side.
