Cassian was standing by the edge of the promenade, clutching the metal handrails and staring off into the night. Upon seeing him, James fumbled with his pen, leaving an inky splatter on the page. He continued to sit there, unmoving, for what felt likeminutes, and when the nighttime clouds parted and the light from the waning crescent moon better illuminated the edge of the promenade, James’s heart broke into a million more pieces, the full force of his sorrow slamming into him and making his breath catch as Cassian’s image became clearer.
Before James could make himself react, Cassian looked over his shoulder, and their eyes met.
James couldn’t be sure if it was merely a trick of the light—the moon’s ethereal luminescence reflecting off of the water before catching Cassian’s face—but he could have sworn the poor man’s eyes were shimmering with a heartache so intense that it mirrored his own. And he felt horrible for it.
Cassian started to leave.
“Cassian, wait!” James cried out.
By some miracle, Cassian froze. James exhaled with relief.
Because now, even though it was irrational, even though it was selfish, even though it was exactly the wrong and immoral thing, the only thing that James wanted was to spend time with his friend, if only to save them both from further pain. To hell with healing, to hell with moving on.
“Don’t go,” James said.
Cassian’s shoulders rose and fell, like he’d taken a measured breath.
“I thought we were... keeping to ourselves for a while,” the man replied softly, still facing the closest door.
James prayed that he wouldn’t walk through it.
“I know,” James said, his voice starting to shake. “But...”
Oh, God, he hated this. He hated that he’d hurt Cassian. He hated that he’d hurt himself too. He’d hurt both of them by falling in love and by letting Cassian fall in... lust or... or whatever the man felt. And then he’d hurt both of them even more by ending the wonderful something that had been blossoming betweenthem. Most of all, though, James hated that, regardless of either his or Cassian’s feelings, hurting them both had been the right thing to do. He hated that it stillwasthe right thing to do.
But, bloody hell, right or not, James couldn’t do it anymore.
Cassian looked over.
“But what?” he hissed.
“But I miss you,” James choked out, his throat tightening as he said the words.
Thank God they were the only two people who were foolhearted enough to be out here on the promenade past midnight.
Cassian’s resolve seemed to crumple, his expression softening, and he started over. Holding his breath to keep himself from crying, James thanked the Lord that the man hadn’t left instead. Cassian sat in the lounge chair beside him.
“I should hate you,” Cassian said.
James lowered his head. “Yes, probably.”
“You hurt me.”
“I know.”
“You were thoughtless.”
James flinched. “I never meant to be. I was only trying to—”
“I’m not looking for excuses, James.”
“Sorry.”
Both men fell silent. James listened to the ocean’s waves.
Finally, Cassian asked, “Are you finished being selfish now?”
Frowning at his hands, James shrank into himself a little. He was not, in fact, finished being selfish. Instead, he was preparing to be evenmoreselfish. More selfish than he’d ever been before in his life.
