Chapter 56

Ash

"I t's not like you to give others the spotlight," I joked after finally finding Soren in the empty courtroom. I was so busy celebrating Diesel's exculpation that at some point, I'd lost sight of Soren. And I wasn't the only one. While his team spoke to the press outside the court, giving them the details of the successful case, Soren was nowhere to be found. That was, until I found him sitting on the same chair Diesel had occupied for the past few weeks.

Soren half turned to look at me, a small smile tinged on his lips. "Is that so?"

Walking down to the front of the court, I invited myself to sit beside him.

"Yes."

He snorted. "I guess I've changed."

I didn't immediately speak and instead enjoyed the simple comfort of being next to him. Thousands of thoughts ran through my head, and finding the right question to start this conversation was almost impossible.

"We did it," Soren said, saving me from finding a way to break the silence we'd fallen into.

" You did it," I corrected him, my shoulder touching his. "Soren, I will never be able to thank you enough for what you've done."

He huffed, eyes focused on his hands that were placed flat on the desk. "Nothing to thank me for. I simply did my job."

To gather his attention, I covered his hand with mine. "You did so much more."

Biting back a smile, he nodded, and I withdrew my hand. After all, I still needed to keep those lines between us clear, even though they were getting blurrier by the minute.

"You know, it felt personal." He turned to me. "When Diesel got acquitted, it felt like the judge talked directly to me. Your joy, the kids'." He observed me, his silver eyes reminding me of the ocean after a rainstorm. "I don't know, I've just never felt this attached to a case before."

If I talked about seeing slight changes in him, now was one of those times. Excluding me, Soren was never one to show empathy with others, so this shift warmed my heart. "Well, those kids have the ability to do that. They're capable of touching your soul."

"Oh, Ashton," he sighed, amusement written on his tired face. "You're still as naive as always."

"What do you mean?" I frowned.

"Nothing," he chuckled. "You're just sinfully cute."

Despite being confused, I decided to let it slide and move on.

"You promised to tell me everything," I said, eyes locked on him.

"I did…" He rubbed his jaw and then placed his hands back on the desk. "Where do I start?"

"How about at the beginning?"

"That's going to be a pain," he joked, but I nudged his shoulder. "Okay, okay," he laughed.

I loved the sound of his low laugh. It was so rough and raspy, reminding me of the hours we spent in bed together, just talking about life, joking with one another.

"So, let's see." Soren averted his eyes from me, his focus now up front. "To make a long story short, between the ages of eight and twelve, I was molested by my father's friend."

I did not expect that, and my stomach turned with his words. Shocked, I stared at him with my eyes open and lips slightly parted.

"Oh, Soren." I placed my hand on him, my thumb softly caressing his skin. "I-I don't know what to say."

He stayed silent, a sad smile coating his lips.

"Did that man get what he deserved?" The need to find out more nipped at me.

"No, because until recently, I'd never told anyone. In fact, the only people I've told are you and Shay-Lee."

My brows pulled close before realization sank in. "You told Shay-Lee because… because he went through the same—"

"Yes."

"Oh my God," I gasped and leaned back in my chair. Shock and horror didn't even begin to describe the storm of emotions that just took over every inch of my body. "Was it his father?"

"Yes."

I felt sick to my stomach and had to shake my head to get out of it. That poor boy . And if I hadn't already regretted the day I turned my back on them, now I felt even worse. But before I allowed guilt to divert my attention, I focused back on Soren.

"So you never told anyone?"

"I was too ashamed, Ashton. Still am."

"You have nothing to be ashamed of, Soren. You did nothing wrong," I urged, leaning closer to him.

He kept quiet, so I went on. "You were so open about your OCD when we'd just met and about your sexuality. You've never shied away from any tough matter, and you shouldn't with this either. Especially this."

"It's not that simple," he cut in, voice tight. "Being gay or having OCD are things that are out of my control." He slumped his shoulders while shaking his head. "That… that thing wasn't. I mean, I could have done something instead of just letting it happen over and over for four years."

What he was telling me crushed my heart, and my throat tightened with the emotion I was trying to hold back. I didn't want to burst into tears and take the attention away from him, but it was difficult to keep them inside.

"What that man did to you was not your fault. Even if you never told anyone. Even if you were too afraid to cry, it still doesn't make it your fault."

"But it is." His brows pulled into a frown, and his jaw tensed. "My silence was my sin." He took another deep breath and closed his eyes, a crease forming between his pinched brows. "I kept telling myself that it happened because I was out of control, and to make it stop, I just had to control everything else. So I started with the small stuff. What clothes to wear, what books to read, and what color to paint the walls in my rooms. Before I knew it, my obsession with details grew even bigger. I tried to control everything, every passing second in my day. When it didn't work, it drove me insane, and I began repeating the same action until things felt right . After some time, my parents noticed the change. They sent me to a psychiatrist, then a few more, and all of them diagnosed me with OCD." He then took a small break and brushed his hand over his jaw. "I easily accepted my diagnosis and even liked it. I liked knowing that what made me tick wasn't that man who bent me over his lap and told me I was a good boy but some sort of a mental illness."

Good boy.

No wonder he was scared to tell me this until now.

Soren welcomed me into his life pretty much from the moment we met. And although he allowed me into his house, it always felt like he kept some of the doors locked. Soren always had something blocking him from giving himself wholly to me, and at last, he was telling me. We might not be together anymore, but it didn't change the fact I was here for him. Reaching forward, I grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" I was ashamed of myself for asking. It was Soren's decision whether to share this or not, but still.

Once again, his eyes met mine as he laced our fingers together. "I was scared you'd be repulsed or, worse, that you'd think our relationship was a result of what he'd done to me."

"Oh, God." I released my hand only to cup his face with both palms. "I would have never."

He shrugged. "I mean, why not? Psychologically, it makes perfect sense that I'd seek control in a sexual relationship after I was introduced to sex in a situation where I was completely out of control. Not to mention you weren't even legal when we met and the power dynamic we had."

Something then occurred to me. "Was that why you got so angry when I lied about my age?" Thinking back on that night, he was so damn mad, repeating the word rape again and again. Even though I was old enough to make my own decisions then, maybe my age triggered him.

"Yes," he said, then shook his head. "Maybe, I mean. I'm not sure." He shrugged. "There were times I doubted our relationship and questioned my motives. I loved you, don't get me wrong, but I was constantly afraid I was doing to you what he did to me, and that made me—" His words cut off as he took a sharp breath and squeezed his eyes shut.

"It made you depressed?" I offered, feeling tortured over the pain he'd gone through for years. If he had just spoken to me sooner, we could have worked through it. It also made me wonder if what that man did to him was the reason Soren never wanted children of his own. Whenever I brought up that subject in the past, Soren would always reject it. We had many fights over it, in which I got frustrated because he never provided me with real explanations as to why we couldn't have children. Now, it all made so much sense. He didn't want to speak about it because he couldn't open up. He couldn't bring himself to admit what happened to him when he was a child.

When he opened his eyes and I saw the softness through which he was looking at me, my heart fluttered. Realizing how close we were didn't help, and my pulse only increased. Swallowing hard, I placed my hand against his jaw. But Soren didn't budge and instead turned to kiss my palm. My skin burned where his lips touched me, and my cheeks turned red. He chuckled, the warm sound like medicine to my soul.

"You're the most precious thing, Ashton," he whispered, kissing me again.

"So why did you break up with me?" I asked, holding my guard because there was still a lot I needed to know.

Soren gently removed my hands and straightened up. "Ashton—"

"No," I declared. "I need to know."

Soren

Ever since we returned from Greece, I hadn't felt like myself. Getting up each morning and needing to leave Ashton's side became harder and harder until my everyday tasks became nothing but distractions until I could hold him in my arms again. He was the only thing that helped me to feel like a person and not some walking machine with no soul. He gave my life purpose and light.

Most of the time, all I wished for was to go back and lie on some sandy white beach with him by my side, without a worry on my mind. Perhaps I should do that? After all, I had the money to live such a life, but what would become of me without any structure? I couldn't just… be . I needed a schedule, a routine, something to keep me in control, like work. What I was feeling now was only a phase, another one of those times where my mood shifted. Perhaps I should talk with my therapist about changing my dose or trying a new medication. That could help. I wasn't an idiot; I knew what this was. Depression . After all, depression had many forms, and in my case, it wasn't about lying in a dark room and not leaving my bed. I functioned, as I always did, but my thoughts didn't give me a break. Not for a moment. What usually helped me calm down wasn't working, and I found myself repeating the same actions again and again. Pointless rituals that were supposed to keep me sane but instead—did the opposite.

I needed to see Ashton. He's the only one that could help.

" Dane!" my boss called, and I turned in time to see him walk into my office with another man. "Come and meet your new client."

Getting up from my seat, I rounded my table and automatically sent my hand forward in a handshake to introduce myself. But then, I was met with a pair of vicious eyes I'd never forgotten.

"I'll be damned. Young Soren Dane?" He smiled, chapped lips stretching into a repulsive smile that showed off yellow teeth.

A shudder ran through me as I remembered how those disgusting lips felt brushing against my skin. Swallowing hard, I forced myself to return a smile.

"Robert, right?" I hated myself for remembering his name.

"Indeed, son." Still shaking my hand, he pulled me close to pat my back, treating me like I truly was his son.

God. I'm about to be sick.

" Knowing my case is in good hands would help me sleep at night," he added, his hand still squeezing me tight.

Soon, my boss escorted him to a different room, and once they were out, I went straight to the bathroom. At first, I thought washing my face would help, but somehow, I ended up on the stall floor, pouring my guts into the dirty toilet. My whole body was shaking uncontrollably, and I was heaving like a dog in heat. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, then leaned back against the stall door. With shaking fingers, I pulled out my phone and typed Ashton a text.

Could you please come and meet me at work?

My thumb hovered over the Send button, but at the last second, I deleted the text and put my phone away. Squeezing my eyes shut, I began crying, tears streaming down my face while I tried to swallow back my sobs and keep my voice down. I couldn't call Ashton because if I did, he'd find out, and everything would end.

And you know what good boys do? Good boys keep their mouths shut.

My eyes snapped open, and I jumped forward, holding the side of the toilet before hurling again until I was sure I'd die choking on my vomit.

Once I was able to stand, I got out of the stall, freshened up, and quickly left the building. Walking fast, I was trying to think what I'd tell Ashton once I saw him. How would I be able to keep this away from him when I could hardly breathe? But what choice did I have? He would run away the second he learned why I called him my good boy—

A loud honk pierced into my thoughts right before someone shouted, "Watch out," and I was yanked back. My ass slammed onto the hard pavement, and I groaned in pain before realizing what had happened. People were already gathering around me, asking me if I was okay. Blinking my eyes several times, I saw a man getting out of his car, his hands in his hair.

"He came out from nowhere—" the driver yelled while I'd already started gathering back my things.

My briefcase was right beside me; papers were scattered all around.

"S-Sir," someone tried to say when I pushed their hand away.

I needed space. I needed to be out of here. Deciding to leave my things on the ground, I got up and just ran away. It was suffocatingly hot, and sweat soaked through my clothes, but I couldn't stop, and I kept running until my legs carried me home. I hoped that once I saw his face, I would be able to calm down, but the opposite happened, and my panic doubled. Throughout the evening, I bottled up everything inside, telling myself again and again that I must hold it together, when suddenly Ashton asked something.

"Is it that bad?"

What would he think of me once he finds out I'm nothing more than a perverted freak?

" I guess I'm just not meant to be in the kitchen," he chuckled.

He won't laugh anymore.

" I was thinking, maybe we can go somewhere soon?"

He won't look at me with such kindness and affection.

" We can go someplace warm. I know how much you enjoy the sun—"

He won't love me anymore, and I'll lose the one thing that keeps me sane.

" I can't do this anymore," I cut into his words.

Everything was crumbling around me, and just like that, one bad decision after another, I finally put the last nail in my coffin.

" I said, I can't do this anymore," I repeated myself, well aware I was sentencing myself to my own death.

"Please don't cry, my love," I told Ashton while offering him my handkerchief.

"W-Why?" He took the handkerchief and cleared his nose. "Why only now?" Sniff. "Why are you only telling me about this now?"

My sweet little Sparrow was too kind for his own good. Too naive and gentle. The truth was, I'd wanted to tell him this years ago. In fact, I was ready to share my story with him as soon as I was out of the hospital, but then I came to his house and saw that he'd moved on. I couldn't say I believed Kai, more like I chose to believe him. He was a snake then and still was now, but for many years, I had convinced myself that he was a better fit for Ashton. And on paper, he was. They merged into each other's lives so easily that it was painful for me to watch, but it was also reality. Of course, now I held different beliefs, and I had no doubt that Ashton belonged with me. But despite knowing that, I wasn't willing to tell him his best friend had betrayed him. It wasn't right for me to break his heart, yet again.

"Why didn't you say anything before?" he asked again, eyes red from crying.

Rubbing his cheek with my palm, I tried to smile at him. "Because it changes nothing."

He pushed my hand away. "It changes everything."

"Only if you don't love him," I said, watching the shock forming on his face.

"W-What?"

"This only changes things if you don't love him, Ashton. Because if you do, and he's the one, then nothing else should matter."

If Ashton were to decide he wanted me back, he needed to come to that decision on his own. Manipulating him in order to keep him away from Kai wouldn't help. Not anymore. Like I said, I'd changed in the time we'd been apart, and I had no intention of repeating the same mistakes I once did.

"Soren," he whispered, his eyes jumping from mine to my lips. He then placed his hand on my thigh and leaned in. My heart rate lowered the closer he got until his breath brushed against my lips. But then, the door to the courtroom opened, and Ashton quickly jumped back.

"K-Kai," he gasped, his voice choked.

"There you are. I was looking for you everywhere." Kai smiled while walking down the aisle toward us.

Good , so he didn't see us.

"Sorry. We just got sucked into a conversation," Ashton explained while rubbing the back of his head, already up on his feet.

"About what?"

"Nothing important." Ashton moved to stand by Kai, whose eyes darted to check me out.

"Whatever." He shrugged, wrapping an arm around Ashton's wide shoulders. "Shouldn't we go pick Diesel up from prison? The boys are already dying to see him."

"Yeah, we should," Ashton said, out of breath, as I got up myself.

"Well, I guess I'll go home now—"

"How about we treat you for dinner?" Kai suggested, surprising the two of us. Ignoring Ashton's shocked expression, he went on. "I mean, we owe you for getting our kid out of prison. It's the least we can do, right?"

We, we, we. Didn't this asshole just love using that word?

I would have refused if Ashton hadn't jumped on the idea. "That's right, Soren. Please come." His face gleamed with hope, and since I was never good at telling him no, I wasn't about to start doing it.

"Okay."