Page 22 of Heart of the Race

It said simply, Who did you do that for?

The fact he knew me well enough to text not only a question, but the counterpoint to what I was thinking, was beyond maddening.

I growled as I hit the button to call him back.

“Everything I did, I did for you!”

“Bullshit! You did it for you!” he roared.

“What?” I was stunned. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

“You did it so there’d be a big-ass fuckin’ hole in my world when you left.”

“Varro.”

“You wanted to make sure I saw it, make sure I felt it.”

“Varro.”

“That I couldn’t miss it.”

“You—” I began.

“And guess what, Brian? I already knew it would be just fuckin’ like that!”

“God, I hate you!”

“Whenever you’re not with me, I feel it.” The way his voice cracked deflated all my anger. “And you don’t hate me one bit, and that’s the problem.”

There was a long silence where neither of us said a word.

“So you don’t just love me, you’re in love with me?” Varro sounded so out of it. Not quite lost, but it was a close thing.

I was suddenly freezing, pacing up and down on the cobblestone walk. I must have looked like a lunatic to anyone walking by my house.

“Brian?”

“Can’t you just⁠—”

“That’s what you said.” He was making sure. “That’s what you meant.”

“Can’t we just leave it alone? You don’t want⁠—”

“You have no idea what I want or don’t want, because you just decided for me and then left me all alone.”

“Varro, I left so you wouldn’t have to deal with me wanting you anymore, and that’s the bottom line. You know it and I know it.”

“And whoever said you couldn’t have that?”

“Have that. Have you. That’s what we’re talking about. Make no mistake, we’re talking about me having you,” I confessed, and I could hear the scratchy desperation in my voice. I was so scared and suddenly, ridiculously, so hopeful at the exact same time.

“I know.”

“I—”

“No, Brian,” he said gruffly. “You don’t get to keep making decisions. We’re done with that.”

“What does that mean?”