I pursed my lips. “And you think me picking up a pencil is going to change that?”
“I don’t think it’ll hurt. I’m not saying you need to make it your whole life, but why can’t it be part of it?”
I grunted, which was as much of an agreement as I was willing to give. Dom seemed satisfied with that, falling silent once more.
As I watched the fire, an urge grew within me. It had me fidgeting in place until Dom noticed.
“What’s wrong?”
I sighed, leaning back until I could see his face. “I wasn’t completely honest about why I kept in touch with Frank.”
Dom looked puzzled. “You weren’t?”
“No,” I said softly, stroking his face. “I kept in touch because he was my final link to you. It didn’t matter how much I tried to bury my past; I couldn’t let it go entirely. I couldn’t letyougo. Yes, I wanted Frank to be sober so the two of you might be able to sort things out one day. I wanted him to realise his mistakes and treat you better infuture. But most of all…most of all, he reminded me of you.”
Dom’s eyes were glassy. I didn’t stop, knowing I had to get this all out in one go.
“Frank was how I kept you in my life. I knew it wasn’t smart or healthy, but I couldn’t give it up. Doing so would’ve meant giving you up. And…”
My words trailed off, but Dom finished for me. “And you couldn’t do that.”
“No,” I said, my fingers trembling against his cheek. “That’s the most fucked-up part of this. What I feel for you isn’t healthy, Dom. It never has been. But I don’t want it to change. I should, but I don’t.”
“Good.” His eyes burned with intensity. “Because I feel the same. I’m tired of trying to exist without you in my life. I gave up the pretence that I didn’t care a long time ago. It was too exhausting. Aren’t you tired, Shadow?”
I was. I was fucking broken from pretending. “Yeah, Dom. I am.”
“Then stop trying,” he said softly. “I know it’s scary, but you’re not alone. If you let me in, you’ll never be alone again.”
I wanted to. Oh, how I wanted to.
Dom was right.
Pretending that I didn’t want him was breaking me.
24
Ryan
Dominic’s words were echoing in my mind when I woke up the next morning. They lived under my skin, buzzing, itching, begging me to listen to them.
“I just want you to be the happiest you can be. Right now, I don’t think you are.”
I didn’t question whether he was right. As much as I tried to bury the boy I’d once been, I couldn’t stifle him completely. There’d been many aspects of my life that had made me miserable back then. Until Dominic had come along, art had been the only outlet that had given me pure joy.
Thinking about how I’d given it up…it made me sad. I didn’t blame myself for it—It was what I’d needed to survive. But now, with Dom asleep beside me, could I let it back in?
I stared at him, tracing the shadows under his eyes. The stubble on his cheeks, so much thicker than when we were younger. The ink on his skin was something I’d never recorded either. What kind of pencil would show the exact depth of the contrast?
I jolted before letting out a quiet laugh. I didn’t need the pencil in my hand to be an artist. It was there. It always had been.
I’d just been too afraid to acknowledge it.
I slid out of bed as silently as I could. Thankfully, Dominic didn’t stir. I thought I’d exhausted him with the 2 a.m. blowjob and fingering session.
After a few deep breaths, I opened the door to the third bedroom. The fear I’d been expecting didn’t arise. Or, if it did, it was eclipsed by another emotion.
Joy.