I wouldn’t be able to help much monetary wise, but I would share whatever I had.
He jerked away and shook his head, dropping his hands to stare down the long expanse of warehouses and their looming façades. His lips pressed together as if holding back so many awful things. His hands balled as if wanting to fight imaginary beasts. “Even now, you’re willing to offer me everything you have.” He didn’t make eye contact, talking to the night. “You’d give me your last penny without hesitation.”
I nodded. “Only because you’d do the same for me.”
“Are you so sure?” He laughed coldly. “I’m not as good as you, Olin. I never was.”
“It’s not a matter of being good or bad. It’s a matter of helping those you lo—” I snapped my mouth closed.
His gaze caught mine, endless and aching. “Please, don’t.”
My heart squeezed, scrambling to hide my almost-confession. “Tell me what you need the money for and I’ll get as much as I can.”
I’d loved him as a girl.
I’d loved him while apart.
And I still loved him, even though I wasn’t sure he deserved it.
He snorted as if I’d asked the saddest, hardest question in the world. “Your money is worthless.”
“Why?”
“Because it can’t buy what I need.”
“What do you need?”
He looked at the stars, his biggest lie slipping from his lips. “Nothing. I need nothing.”
Too bad the truth echoed in the void, howling with the opposite of what he’d just said. Gil needed something. He needed everything.
Money.
Safety.
Help.
I pressed against him, hurt to my core when he sidestepped away before I could hug him. My fingernails dug into my palms as I did my best not to cry. “You forbid me from talking to the police, but you’re in trouble, Gil...you need to tell them. They can help—”
“Help?” He rolled his eyes, the haze of alcohol evaporating a little. “They’re about as much help as I am.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’m fucking useless.”
I sucked in a breath. “Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s true.” He sighed with his entire body. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. It’s too late.”
Gil had always been a melancholy type of boy. At school, his smiles were few and far between. His laughter was priceless because it was so rare and whatever reaction he gave was always overshadowed by a taut wariness and cloudy distrust.
But tonight, thanks to alcohol blurring his walls, he struggled to hide.
“What’s too late, Gil?” Worry sat thick and cloying in my chest. I wanted to touch him. To hug him. To hold him in my arms and tell him he could tell me because if he didn’t, the poison inside would ruin him.
“Everything.” He sighed again, swaying a little as tiredness mixed with drunkenness. “Go home, O. Time to forget about me.”
I swallowed back my urge to tell him that was an impossibility. That I couldn’t stop thinking about him before. Now that we’d had sex, I was doomed to being his forever.
My voice was level and kind as I said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you with the commission earlier.”
He sniffed, glowering at the dark world around us. “Yeah, me too.”
Looking toward the empty street, I clutched my handbag closer. The thought of leaving him like his sent warning bells all over my skin. Turning to face him again, I did my best to change the subject. “Was it hard painting me? Did you...want me like you wanted me tonight?”
His face hardened. “I’m many things, Olin, but lusting after a canvas when I’m working is beneath even me.”
“Can I be honest and say having you paint me was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done? Being with you tonight? God, I needed that so much.”
My admittance did what I’d intended. It wrenched him from black thoughts, painting his features in surprise. He cleared his throat. “Having me paint you was hard?”
“Very much.”
His muscles tensed for all new reasons. “Because...”
“Because you were so close, after being gone for so long. Because your brush felt like a kiss and your airbrush felt like...” I blushed. “Like your tongue.”
He swallowed, his throat working. “I...” His eyes glowed as if he wanted to confess a thousand things, but those awful shutters slammed down again and he muttered, “Tonight only happened because I had compromised self-control and you had pent-up need from the previous commission. That’s all it was. Basic instinct to find a release.”
He effectively threw cold water in my face, slapping away yet another attempt to drag him from the darkness.
He’s lost, O...
No, he’s just being a jerk.
And frankly, I’d used up my quota of kindness tonight.
There was only so much patience I could offer. I wasn’t a saint. I was hurt. I’d been hurt for seven long years. And that hurt became harder to ignore the more he fought me. “Time truly did scar you, Gil. I’m trying so hard to bring you back, but no matter what I do, you just keep pushing me away.”
His eyebrows turned into jagged lines. “I grew up, O. We both did. Whoever you knew is no longer a part of me.”
“It’s so easy for you? To shove aside the parts of you that made us family?”
He shuddered as if I’d stabbed him in the heart. “Nothing about this is easy. You’re not making it easy because you refuse to listen to me.”
“I’m listening now.” I didn’t look away. “And I think you’re forgetting why I refuse to obey you. Last time I did, you broke up with me. Last time I didn’t fight with everything that I have, you just...disappeared. You keep acting as if you’re trying to protect me by keeping me away, but in reality, I think you’re just trying to protect yourself.”
“I am trying to protect you.”
“Do it some other way. Don’t push me away this time, Gil. Don’t be that selfish.”
“Selfish?” he roared. “You think I’m being selfish by doing everything I can to keep you safe?”
“I think you’re choosing the easy way out—”
“I never had it easy. Fucking ever!”
My voice rose to meet his, uncaring if people heard our domestic. “You broke it off with me. That was the easy option. You moved on. You made the choice to leave. I was never given that option.”
Why did I say that?
What’s wrong with me?
I’d forgiven him for everything. I didn’t want to punish him by bringing up the past when it was nothing compared to what he dealt with now.
“Look, I’m sorry, I—”
He crowded me until our chests touched. “You think I chose to leave you?”
I couldn’t breathe properly. “You did a pretty good job of making it seem that way. You walked out of my life then vanished from school. No one had a clue where you’d gone.”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
My anger rose again, ignoring my desire to stay calm. “Of course, you did! You could’ve talked to me instead of ripping out my—”