“But you didn’t need to be. I’d have just been a weight on your shoulders, always bringing you down. You’d always be wondering what I was up to while you were on tour, and you deserved to make the most of everything without worry. Fuck, Killian, it can’t have been easy doing what you do. By removing myself from your life, I removed the worry.”
There, I’d said it. I’d told him the reason; I hoped he’d understand.
“Did you ever think I needed you to help me through it all? Fuck, Harv. I’d have done anything to share it all with you. Instead, I faced everything alone.” He turned away to look out of the window, but I could tell by the way his voice broke that it wasn’t easy.
But sometimes, conversations and truths were difficult.
Abandoning my drawing, I rushed to his side and took his hand in mine. He tried to pull away, but I held on tight.
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t see another way out. I didn’t think I deserved to live, let alone deserve your love.”
“Sorry means nothing now, Harv. Don’t you see that? You broke me.” Tears ran down his face, and my heart broke. I’d done that to him.
“I didn’t…”
“Didn’t what? You broke my fucking heart.”
“I broke us both, and I don’t know how to fix it.”
“I’m not sure you can.”
But I had to. I had to put things right. I had to fix him. If not for him, then for my own peace of mind.
Silence stretched between us, a silence full of unspoken words, but he hadn’t pulled away, his hand still wrapped in mine.
“I loved you, Harv, but you didn’t give me a chance to show you. You took it away from me.”
“You never told me.”
“It seemed too soon. We barely knew each other, but there was always something between us. An invisible thread connecting us.”
“I sensed it. I loved you, too, but if I’d told you, you’d have run in the other direction.”
He turned to face me, his face wet with tears. “Fucking arseholes, the both of us.”
“You’ll get no argument from me, but I’m not sure I was ready for it all.”
“And what about now? Because even though I can’t forgive you right now, I’m not sure I’m done with you.”
I placed my head on his chest, the soft thud of his heart loud in my ear. “It’s not broken,” I said, tears streaming down my face.
“Not anymore, but you don’t have to see the scars to know they’re there.”
“You said that to me once, a long time ago.”
“I meant it then, and I mean it now. You can’t see my scars, but I have them, the same as you do.”
He stroked a hand through my hair, and for the first time in forever, I breathed.
No longer barely breathing.
Every breath I took was for him, for us. We were no longer shattered. After years apart, by some stroke of luck, be it fate or not, we’d found each other.
But now, if he’d have me, I was ready to take the leap. Ready to give him everything I had.
Ready.
Our mutual declarations must have exhausted him, and soon enough, he was asleep, his hand still entwined in my hair.