“Hey.” I reach across the small table and grasp his hand to still it. “I do want to hear this. I want to hear everything. Every thought that runs through that beautiful head of yours. Every liethe voice might try to convince you of. I want to hear it all. You don’t have to do this alone, remember? I’m here. I want to help.”I love you.
I want to tell him. Hell, I want to shout it from the rooftops so everyone in the whole damn city knows. But Hayden’s already been through the wringer today and I don’t want to put more stuff on him now.
Soon. I’ll tell him soon. I just have to find the right time.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE
HAYDEN
I went to my second appointment with Dr. Tina yesterday and I only cried for about half the time I was in her office. I count that as a win.
Santino went with me again, but then, we’re never really apart anymore. We sleep together, eat together, and shower together on most days. Santino managed to drag me out to the park for an afternoon. And we went grocery shopping so I could make him fish tacos and guacamole. But other than that, we’ve spent a lot of time in the apartment, cocooned in blankets on the bed or on the couch. We take turns reading to each other. Sometimes we play video games. We’ve generally been taking it pretty easy. I don’t have the energy for much more.
I kind of feel bad about it. Santino should be out enjoying the summer and exploring the city, not stuck inside with me every day. Bellamy’s offered to show him around a few times, but he keeps saying no. I get a little rush of relief whenever he does. Because I’m selfish and needy and I want him to stay with me for snuggles and naps. I’m a horrible person.
At least, that’s what the voice has been telling me nonstop for days. I’m taking advantage of Santino. I’m hogging all his time and attention. If I really loved him, I’d let him go live his life rather than drag him deeper into my mess.
The thing is, wrapping myself around Santino and getting lost in him is the only way to make the voice shut up. So I feel bad for wanting Santino to stay home with me—but I don’t feelthatbad.
To be honest, I can’t remember what life looked like before he moved in anymore. I can’t imagine waking up without him next to me, or not being able to reach out and touch him, or not having the warm scent of cinnamon in my nose. Being apart from him for even a few minutes feels like too much sometimes.
Rhys stopped by one day to check in on me and when Santino went to the bathroom, Rhys jokingly asked why I didn’t go in with him. Except, I don’t think he was really joking. He said something about not becoming too dependent on Santino and getting too attached, but I’m way past worrying about that now. It’s too late. I’m already dependent on him. I’m already attached.
And now, we’re shooting our second scene. Sebastian wanted to put it off for another week or two to give me more time to settle into therapy. As if a couple more sessions with Dr. Tina is going to cure me of this depression. I mean, that’d be fan-fucking-tastic if it does, but I’m getting the sense this will be a very drawn-out process. And I don’t want to hold the schedule back any more than I already have.
So we’re at this penthouse apartment Noel found for us that has a private outdoor terrace with a pool and a hot tub. In between the lounge chairs are plants and trees that provide a bit of privacy from the surrounding buildings and there’s a fully stocked bar at the far end. It feels like we’re at some tropical resort rather than in the middle of New York City.
But the most exciting part about being here is Santino’s reaction when we first walked in. He looked like he'd just walked into a buffet with all his favorite foods. His jaw hit the ground and his eyes went as big as saucers. Every room was cooler than the last. The terrace was the coolest out of everything. He couldn’t wait to strip down and jump in the water.
And now he’s practically bouncing off the walls as we wait for Sebastian and Christian to finish setting up. I’m sitting on a couch, watching Santino examine every single thing in the room—the picture frame on the wall, the coasters on the coffee table, the cast iron pokers next to the fireplace, the vase of fake flowers on the mantel. He can’t sit still and I would probably find it adorable if I wasn’t trying to fight off the empty ache in my chest.
I know it’s not real, as in there’s nothing physically wrong with me. There isn’t some alien clawing at my insides trying to escape from my body. It’s just the depression—my brain registering phantom signals my body hasn’t sent.
It’s fine. I’m okay. Everything’s going to be alright.
You keep saying that, but…
Santino plops down on the couch next to me and immediately leans against my side. “This place is sooo cool,” he says for maybe the eightieth time.
“Yeah, it is.” I curl myself toward him, seeking the comfort of his weight, his warmth.
Santino turns his head, takes one glance at me, and lifts his arm so he can rest it across my shoulders. He plants a kiss on my temple. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay, I guess.”
We both know I’m lying.
“You’re sure you want to do this today, babe? We can still cancel it, you know. I don’t care what Sebastian says. You come first.” Santino’s voice has a hint of defensiveness, like he’s readyto fight anyone forcing me into something I don’t want to do—including if that someone was me.
But I shake my head. I don’t want to cancel. I’d just have to do this some other day and there’s no guarantee things will be any better then. I might not be great right now. But I could be so much worse.
“No, I don’t want to cancel. I want to do this.”
“Positive?” Santino’s brow is furrowed in mock sternness.
“Yeah, positive.” I sigh as Santino tugs me a little closer to him and I melt into his body. The ache in my chest eases enough for me to take a few deep breaths. Everything’s always better when I’m in Santino’s arms.
