“I expect it.”
Letting out a breath, I sag, leaning against the raised bed and scrubbing a hand over my eyes. “Is it always going to be this exhausting?”
“Maybe. It depends on what we work on that day, but opening yourself up and trusting someone else is never easy. We’ll stop here for today. You've made good progress, Hollis, even if it doesn’t feel like it. You gave us a starting point, and we can work on your fears of being abandoned, alongside your anxiety. I’m proud of you.”
I grimace. “No Daddying.”
He laughs, the fucker. Connor gathers his things, putting the two file folders he showed me away as he stands. “I’ll get you a new blanket by the end of the day. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask for me.”
“Thank you.”
He nods and leaves quickly, careful not to shut the door all the way behind him. I know it’s protocol for suicide watch, but he could have left the door open all the way to fulfil that. No, he’s giving me the privacy I desperately need after the session, while also not shutting me in, and that’s a detail that earns him a little more of my trust, knowing he listened.
Taking my glasses off, I set them aside and pull the thin bedsheet and shitty blanket up, curling around myself as I lay in bed.
Not having one of my lovers with me made sleep impossible last night, but the heavy emotions have now made me drowsy, and I allow my eyes to close with the promise of Connor’s safety in my mind.
Maybe, just maybe everything’s going to be okay…
It doesn’t take long to find the man I’m looking for, despite this large mansion. Stepping into the study, I find him sitting in one of the armchairs. Even though he must have heard the door open, he doesn’t look my way.
My heart sinks at it, because the man I know is naturally curious, and this? This cannot keep going on. He cannot keep moving from one spot to another like a wraith, existing but not really there at the same time.
No, it’s time for my Sweetheart to step into the light with me, because I won’t give him up without a fight, even if it’s against himself.
Picking the loveseat across from him, I gesture for him to join me. For a moment, he hesitates, and I hate that. He’s fierce, my Amato, and yet this entire situation has fucked with the both of us.
We’re both shattered, missing pieces, stranded on an island and waiting…for what, I sometimes don’t even know. But Ignacio was right. We can’t just accept pieces of ourselves. It’s time to rebuild—together.
“Come sit with me, Sweetheart,” I urge again, and finally he stands, slowly making his way over to me. When he sits, it’s with an unsteady sigh, as if he’s too weary to continue the fight.
I let the silence build between us. It’s companionable, not taunt like it is with so many others in this mansion. There’s no expectations to be perfect, to be good, to earn a spot of acceptance between us. We can simply be who we are… For better or worse.
Eventually, I break the silence, drawing his attention toward me instead of letting his thoughts build inside. “What are you thinking about, My Love?”
“I…I don’t even know.” Cristian chuckles humorously as I take his hand, holding it steady in mine. “It’s like a kaleidoscope of thoughts and emotions, and I don’t know how to begin to parse them out.”
“Start wherever you want. I’ll listen.”
“Carter…” One word, a wealth of pain. I squeeze his hand, encouraging him to continue. “I keep thinking about what I did wrong. About how we ended. I see that he’s happy now—happier than he was with me. But, I hate it. I know it’s selfish. Still, I had plans. When we slipped rings onto each other’s fingers, I thought that was it. Forever. And…”
“Go ahead, Dolce Coure,” I urge, using the nonsensical Italian that usually brings a smile to his lips.
Instead, he gives a pained grunt, closing his eyes as a tear slips down his face. Finally, he shakily replies, “I’m jealous. Of you. Of what you’ve found here. You have Lio back. But where does that leave me?
“Carter doesn’t want me back. He’s moved on already. And fuck, I think he was right… We never left that room. I thought I had forgiven his betrayal, but…”
When he stops, unable to go on, I finish it for him, understanding as my heart bleeds for him. “But it allowed you to keep a wall up. To protect your heart.”
“I don’t think I have a heart,” Cristian scoffs. “Everything I touch has turned to ashes. I’ve burned it all down. My friendships, my marriage, and my relationship with my son. I only wanted to love him. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“You have a heart. No matter what your uncle did, he could not extinguish it. If he had, neither of us would have survived that cement room. Our Families would have collected our bodies and that’s it. But because you had faith, I did as well.”
“And yet we still lost everything…” Cristian whispers, his eyes opening, even though his stare is vacant.
“No, My Love. You still have me. Sei il mio cuore, il mio amore, il mio tesoro.”
More tears slip down his face, but he doesn’t make a move to wipe them away. Instead, I turn and brush them off his cheeks with my thumbs, forcing him to look at me.
