“That’s all right.”
I prop myself on one shoulder, looking down at him. “Would it help? Honesty,” I remind him again.
Alex peers up at me, something tight in his expression. “Yes. And no.”
My heart stutters as I stare down at him. “Why?”
Alex searches my eyes. Long silent seconds stretch out between us. “You sure you want me to answer that? Because we’ve gotten this close to it before, Ted, and every time you turned me away.”
“Turnedusaway,” I say quietly, fresh tears pricking my eyes. I pick up his hand and bring it to my cheek. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Why?” he asks quietly, turning his hand inside mine, cupping my cheek. “Why did you?”
“I was scared,” I whisper hoarsely. “I was scared of anything that could take us past where we were, because where we were was so good. And anything beyond that good… it could become bad. Friendships last, Alex. Relationships… they end.”
Alex says gently, “Friendshipsarerelationships, Ted. And those can end, too.”
“Not ours,” I whisper. “We’d never let it.”
“No?” he says, tipping his head. “How would it play out then,when you found someone, or I did? You’re telling me we’d just keep on doing what we’ve been doing—”
“No.” I shake my head wildly, pinning his hand to my cheek. “I couldn’t think about that—”
“Exactly,” he says softly, tenderly. “And why is that?”
I stare down at him, shaking with the fear of it, the magnitude of it inside me, years of love and longing denied and buried, pushed down over and over, screaming to be let out. “BecauseIwant you. And I don’t want anyone else to have you.”
Emotion tightens his face, air gusts out of him. “God, Ted.”
I’m crying, trembling as I cling to his hand, tohim. That’s all I’ve done for two years—cling to him, to what made me feel safe, to what gave me enough love to live on without living in constant fear that I’d lose it.
“I’ve been so selfish,” I whisper.
He shakes his head, blinking rapidly. His eyes are wet. “No, you haven’t. You’ve been scared, Ted. I was scared, too.”
I search his eyes. “Was?”
He smiles crookedly, his thumb sweeping over my cheek. “A man has needs. And eventually, those needs become much louder than his common sense, or any kind of life lesson. I want you, too,” he says roughly. “But I wantedyoumore than that want, and I knew that meant I had to take you the way you’d let me have you. You made it clear, last year, that’s what you wanted. But the other day, when you first saw the beach, when you looked at me, it felt like… maybe that had changed, or that… itcouldchange. One day.”
I nod as I turn my face and kiss his hand. “You’re disturbingly good at reading my mind.”
“Sometimes,” he concedes. “But in some ways, I have very much been stumbling around in the dark.Thisplace,” he says, “most of all.”
“Because I kept you there.” I feel so guilty, so ashamed.
Alex tugs me down into his arms, holding me close. “I don’t fault you for that, Ted. You needed the time you needed. I was always going to be here, waiting for you on the other side of that.”
I bury my face in his neck, careful not to squeeze too hard, even though I want to, even though I’m dying to pour out, to show him how much he means to me, how much his love, his patient, steady love means to my battered heart.
“Always?” I ask quietly. “How long are we talking?”
“As long as my right hand kept working,” he says dryly.
I snort. “Fair.” I stare at him, my humor dying away. “Maybe… maybe I can make up for lost time? Give your right hand a break?”
Alex stares down at me, a wry smile on his mouth. “If we did, I’d prefer if it was a mutual makeup.”
I audibly gulp. “I wouldn’t be mad about that.”