Chapter 37

THIRTY-SEVEN

S taring at my phone, I debate if I'm wrong. Am I? Or am I just missing him?

It's stupid to get this attached to someone so quickly, but you can't help who you love, and I love Alek Anders. I hate it. I hate that it's hard to breathe. I hate that I'm just going through the motions, looking for him everywhere. He hurt me, and we are over, yet I'm here, staring at pictures on my phone of when we were together.

I was happier than I have ever been before, and the wide smile on my face as he poses behind me in this image is proof of that. My phone is filled with stolen moments and snapshots, and I can't force myself to get rid of them.

His phone call last night didn't help. It didn't make me feel better to take it out on him when I know he's struggling. That's the thing—when you love someone, you make excuses for them. You don't want to hurt them even when they hurt you. Even now, I hope he's okay and he isn't overworking and not sleeping.

Love is a foolish, fickle bitch, and I want it gone.

I don't want to be in pain anymore. Rubbing my chest, I place my phone face down just as the chair opposite me in the dining hall is scraped back. I jerk my head up and see Alice. She slumps into it, groaning as she rubs her arms. I stare, and she tilts her head.

"What? We are friends, aren't we? He didn't get me in the divorce," she jokes. I've noticed the more comfortable she feels around someone, the more she speaks, and she's right. We are friends. I like Alice, but she reminds me of her brother. I can't look into her eyes without seeing him.

I simply nod, and she sighs, reaching over as she flips my phone, seeing the picture there. I snatch it back from her and sit deeper into the chair, embarrassed she caught me.

"Evan."

"Don't, okay? I don't need you to defend him or anything."

"I'm not going to. I'm your friend, remember? Are you okay?" She reaches over, holding my hand. It's soft and warm, but I wish it were bigger, tattooed, and his. Still, I let her comfort me.

"Not even a little," I admit with a bitter laugh, meeting her eyes once more, the eyes of someone I love in a different face. They are so alike sometimes, it's scary.

"Is he okay?" I ask.

"You want the truth?" she counters, and I love her for that. She might be his sister, but she's also my friend, and it's clear when Alice cares, she cares deeply. She's like her brother in that regard. I nod, and she smiles.

"No." Her smile is sad. "He isn't. I've never seen him like this. It's like the energy is gone from him. He's barely eating or sleeping—hell, he even missed work."

I hate that concern winds through me.

"I know you don't want to hear it, Evan, but no matter what happened or what you think, my brother cares about you a lot. Losing you has wrecked him," she admits.

"But he didn't care enough," I mutter like a petulant child.

"Evan, my brother didn't even know he had a heart until he met you. All he has done for the last few years is look after me, never wanting anything for himself. He's slow to admit when he feels something. He's dumb about it, but he's trying. "

"Alice." I stop her, and she waits. "All my life, I've been told what I am is wrong, sick, and perverted. I don't want my relationship to be like that. I want my love to be my safe space, my happy place, where I can be unapologetically me."

"And you couldn't with him?" she asks honestly.

"How can I when he can't even be honest with himself?" I shrug.

"Forget everyone else and what they want, Evan. What do you want? Does it matter to you if Alek loves you silently or loudly? Or do you just think it should matter?" She squeezes my hand. "He might be slow, but he shows you in a million ways. His actions are his promise to you, Evan, even if he doesn't realize it. Think of everything he does for you. That passenger seat? It's yours. He doesn't even let me sit in it, and nobody else can ever sit in his car. He made you food every morning, no matter how late he worked, because he was worried you weren't eating enough. He picked you up almost every day just so you didn't have to walk home. He helped you with your shoot because it made you happy. I'm sure there are a million other little things, but that's what I saw—my brother, a man who looks after people he loves, was looking after you.

"He only takes care of people he cares about, Evan, and that has only ever been me. He let you into our lives, our house, and his heart. He does it silently without complaining, not because he doesn't want people to know, but because it's who he is. He might never be the type to scream that you are his, but he will show this world through his actions if you let him. I'm not saying he isn't a fool, but he has spent years fighting who he is." She leans closer. "Our father hated him, convinced him it was wrong to be gay. There is a reason he's the way he is, Evan. I'm not saying it's right, but he's trying. Despite it all, he's trying. I'm not trying to ruin this or stop you from being happy, but if you're not happy moving on from him, then why are you doing it? Life's too short to hold yourself back, Evan. You deserve to be loved, to feel safe and happy, but there will never be another who will love you the way he does."

"Alice."

"No," she snaps. "My brother has looked out for me my entire life. I owe him everything, and I want him to be happy, and you make him happy, Evan. You make him so fucking happy. You made him dream again, dream about a future he thought was gone. Maybe I shouldn't be saying this, but I see two people I care about hurting themselves for the other, and I can't stand it. You either need to love him or completely let him go, Evan, but if you let him go, you'll never have him again. He'll close up and never trust another person, so can you try to love him, no matter how dumb he's being? Can you love him enough for both of you, even when he hates himself?"

I peer into her determined eyes. They remind me so much of her brother's, and she's right. I love him, and it hurts to stay away. He does show me, and I know that party was a mistake. Did I overlook his pain, thinking mine was greater? Could the reason lie in his past?

I don't know if we can ever be the way we were or if this can work, but she's right about one thing—I want it to. I've never wanted something so much, and it hurts to be away from him. It hurts so much, I feel like I'm dying.

Alek Anders is stubborn, angry, and foolish, but he's mine.

"You're stubborn, just like him," I mutter.

"Yeah, I am." She grins proudly. "No matter what you choose, Evan, do it for you, no one else, and I'll still be your friend." She rolls her shoulders, groaning. "But for the love of all that is holy, please fuck the shit out of my brother because he kills me with his boredom and heartache."

I burst out laughing.

Is she right?

Can this be salvaged?

Is it worth it?

Is he worth it?

The answer is yes. He might not think so, but I do.

I think he's worth the heartache, the worry and sleepless nights, and if we try again and it breaks once more, at least I'll have no regrets because I know letting Alek Anders go would be the biggest mistake of my life.

I don't know why I came here other than it sort of feels like our place. I never expected to see him, that's for sure. I skipped my classes to come here and think about what I want before I reached out, but it seems fate has other ideas.

Sitting on a bench before the pond, under the blooming cherry blossom tree, is Alek Anders, his shoulders rounded as if he's carrying the weight of the world. When I step closer, he doesn't even hear me. I can see his profile, and he looks tired. He's wearing some black jeans with white seams and his normal leather jacket, and despite his exhaustion, he looks good. My heart misses a beat, thumping faster simply from seeing him.

I could leave before he notices, but I drift closer and sit down on the other end of the bench, my hand next to his. I feel his head swing my way, but I keep my eyes on the water. "I didn't know you were here. I was coming to think."

"I see," he murmurs, his voice hoarse. I turn my head, meeting his brown eyes. Alice is right. He will never love another, never let another in. That is just who Alek is, and he loves so much it would be a shame to this world.

Being loved by Alek Anders would be something beautiful, I think.

"I was going to call you," I admit, and he blinks in shock, hope blooming in his eyes before it dies.

"I'll keep an eye on Alice at home. You don't have to worry." He shrugs, looking away, so sure that everything is never about him, even now.

"I didn't want to talk about Alice. I wanted to talk about us." I look back at the water, letting the stillness give me strength.

"Is there an us?" he asks. He sounds angry, but I know better now. Alek's pain is masked behind his anger—anger he directs at a world that has never helped him and people who never cared about him.

"I don't know," I answer honestly, not wanting to lie to him, "but I think I want there to be." I meet his gaze. "I need answers, though, Alek. I need to understand."

"Understand?" he parrots.

"You said you couldn't at the party, that you had your reasons. I want to hear them now if you will tell me. I want to know why. I want to understand. I'm ready if you are."