“About a week into us hanging out.”
“That makes sense.” She takes a big breath and wipes her cheeks. “He’s been happier since you two started seeing each other, and I’m sure part of it was being able to trust someone with this burden he’s been carrying around.”
“I’m—”
“I was so mean to him sometimes.” She breaks into tears again. “I’d told him so many times that he should stop being so hard on our dad, and Dutton just took it all without saying anything.”
I glance back at the man sleeping on the couch behind us. Now that it’s out in the open, I feel like I can say more.
“He really didn’t want you to have to deal with it or be hurt by it or change your relationship with your dad. He only wanted to make it go away without you ever knowing.”
“But then that reporter showed up and made everyone nervous, and now everyone knows.”
I gasp. “Even the reporter?”
“He might be the only one who doesn’t know. Dad and Dutton were yelling pretty loudly,” Gavin fills me in.
“No, Dad was yelling. Dutton was just mad, and he’s hurt because?—”
“Because he had every right to be,” Gavin cuts her off with a look,
They aren’t telling me something, but who am I to pry it out of them? I kept secrets from them.
And this is their family. I don't have a place to make comments.
“Why don’t you get home?” I say and hug Grace one more time. “I’ll take care of this guy.”
I give them my best smile, all while my heart is breaking for the man I love and his family.
“Do you want help getting him to bed?”
I think it over and then shake my head.
“He looks okay where he is.”
“All right,” Gavin says, and the two of them walk out the door.
I blow out a breath and sit at the end of the coffee table near Dutton’s head. I brush a hand over his forehead and lean forward to kiss it.
“I hope you’re okay,” I whisper, fully knowing he can’t hear me.
My touch wakes him just enough to open his eyes.
They are red and glossy.
“Hi.” I smile so he knows that, despite things being a mess at work, things between us are more than great.
He studies me for a moment and then squints.
“Books.” His voice breaks.
I move to the floor and do my best to hold him in our awkward position. He starts to shake as he sobs in my arms.
“Oh, baby.” I brush a hand through his hair. “It’s going to be okay,”
I repeat this a couple more times, then kiss the top of his head as he cries. When he starts to sit up, I join him on the couch, but he lies down again.
His cheek rests against my lap, and the urge to tell him one more time that everything is going to be okay hits me.
