back quietly whispering that Alejandro might not want what Avery’s going to offer. What if the contract is something he needs? What if he can’t love Avery without it? But it’s worth all that risk, because Avery knows he’ll never be able to fully breathe unless he knows that Alejandro would choose him too—without all this mess between them.
He’s nearly shaking out of his skin as he makes his way down the hall, and as he gets close to the office, he can hear Alejandro’s voice through the crack in the door. It sounds soft—it sounds almost happy, which makes Avery smile because he did that. He put an honest, actual smile on his face. Being with him gave Alejandro a good day.
Pressing his hand to the door, he leans his forehead against the wood and strains to hear, because he wants to absorb every syllable Alejandro says. He’s probably talking about work, not him, but that doesn’t matter. Just listening to his voice helps the anxiety in Avery’s gut settle.
“…of course I do. Yes. I know this was a long time coming, and I should have…” There’s a long silence, and then he hears the way Alejandro’s breath shakes on something like a laugh. “I have always loved you, and you know I always will. It was stupid of me to…I know. Bloody hell, Connor, I know.”
All of Avery goes still. His heart stops beating, his chest stops rising and falling. Something’s creeping up his spine and wrapping around his throat, and he wants to run, and he wants to stay. He wants Alejandro to shut up, and he wants him to keep going.
“No,” Alejandro says after a beat, “we both did. I have a lot to make up for, but right now I want to focus on being happy.” As Avery’s heart begins to crack, he hears Alejandro laugh again. “I know, you’ve been telling me for years. And I’ve been ignoring you, which we both know is stupid. I just didn’t think it was possible, but I feel like I’m waking up from a long sleep, and the first thing I knew I had to do was phone you. And I plan on telling you all of this to your face when I see you next, because you deserve at least that.”
Avery’s walking away before he’s consciously aware of it, and he only notices when he can’t hear Alejandro’s voice anymore. One foot in front of the other keeps him going, and even though his insides are in pieces, his heart’s still beating a staccato rhythm on repeat. It’s keeping him alive, at least. Or something like it.
He feels stupid. He feels like a fool. He should have known that all of this work—waking Alejandro up from his long sleep, as he said to Connor, probably with a smile on his face, wouldn’t lead him right into Avery’s arms. No, it would send him back to the man who had started this whole thing. Who captured his heart the first time around.
The world in which Alejandro is capable of love without the burden of grief or work doesn’t belong to Avery.
He swallows around a lump in his throat, and he blinks in surprise when he realizes he’s standing at the elevator. He has his shoes on, his wallet in his pocket, phone in his hand. He’s shaking all over, and his jaw is tense, and he’s listening intently for footsteps.
He kind of wants Alejandro to stop him—to tell him to his face that it’s over. He’ll be sweet, of course, and he’ll be grateful for everything Avery’s done for him. Because it wasn’t nothing. It’s not like he stopped caring. He just can never care enough, not when his heart has always been someone else’s.
I have always loved you, and you know I always will.
He knew, but he was stupid enough to think he could be enough. He swipes at his cheeks because there are tears falling, and he hates himself for them. But the elevator doors open, and he steps in, trying to smile at the man operating it. He’s new, and he’s not wearing a badge, but Avery wouldn’t have remembered him anyway. He feels like he’s walking through a fog. “Lobby,” he manages.
The man doesn’t ask, and he’s grateful for that. He tugs his shirt down and wishes he had remembered to grab his coat—or any of his things. But, of course, Alejandro can send them over to his apartment. He’ll probably still get