feet, and he was painfully aware of Eliah’s gaze on him as he finally stood. He felt a sort of strange almost-guilt for his recovery, and he knew mostly it was the fact that he still struggled with the idea that Eliah would never get any more mobile than he was now.
He only had to wait a few weeks to heal.
“Cuppa?” Jude asked, debating about grabbing his cane. His knee was feeling much better though, and he knew he should be exercising it more.
“Desperate for one. We ran out, and Aaron’s been too busy to make it to the shops,” Eliah said. He shot a fond look at his lover, and Jude felt a sudden ache as he missed Emilio.
The brothers made their way into the kitchen, and Eliah hooked his cane on the end of the counter before easing up onto one of the barstools. Jude was comfortable in there as he filled the kettle, and he could sense Eliah’s gaze boring into him as he pulled mugs from the cupboard.
“Just say it,” he muttered.
Eliah chuckled softly. “You look good here.”
Unable to look over, Jude swallowed thickly as he checked the little pot of sugar, then moved to the fridge for milk. “It’s only been a couple of days.”
Eliah’s sigh had him glancing over his shoulder, and his brother’s eyes were soft. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
He knew, he just wasn’t ready to admit it to anyone other than Emilio. Mostly because while the man assured him this was a safe trip, the last time he’d gone that far, he’d been shot. “Does it get easier?” he finally asked.
Eliah waited until he turned before he answered. “Yes and no. The fear doesn’t ever go away, but learning to cope with it came after a time.”
Jude turned and fiddled with the teabag string before pushing one of the mugs toward his brother. “He wants me to stay.”
Eliah’s brows rose. “And?”
Jude bit the inside of his cheek, and he used the whistle of the kettle to give himself a moment to really think about his answer. Part of it was simple—he wanted to stay. He wanted to see where this thing with Emilio was going—and see all the places it could go in the future. But the threat of not having a future if Hydra had his way was threatening to choke him every time he let himself think about it.
Leaning against the counter, Jude stared down at the tendrils of brown seeping from the tea bag, staining the water. He pulled on the string, then reached for the milk and added a splash. “I’ve been wanting to quit for a while,” he said, though he’d told Eliah this before. “Part of me took your involvement in all this as a sign.” Pausing to take a sip, he watched his brother’s face, afraid he might find guilt there, but all he saw was understanding. “Part of me wonders if I’d ever give a man like Emilio a chance if I hadn’t been forced to spend time with him.”
Eliah cocked his head to the side and gave Jude what he always called his ‘professor look’. It used to annoy the hell out of him, but now—oddly—he found it a comfort. “I can’t really say for sure. We grew apart, and I regret not knowing the man you became a little bit better.”
That hit like a punch to the stomach, but he knew there was no hiding from the truth of his brother’s statement.
“Part of me wants to be sorry because this swept in and ruined the life you’d built for yourself,” Eliah continued. “Because even if you’d quit tomorrow, I don’t think you’d be here.”
Jude winced, because that was also another sharp, painful truth. “I suppose not.”
“I don’t want to be sorry though.” Eliah offered a grin, then sipped his tea before sitting it down with a soft clunk. “I’m not sorry I get to hop in the car and drive ten minutes to see you. And I’m not sorry that the only person who understands what it was like growing up the way we did is going through this with me.”
Jude let out a soft breath and felt relief lifting from his shoulders. “You’ve put it far better than I could.”
Eliah laughed quietly. “I suppose that’s the one thing I was always better at than you.” Resting his hands beside his mug, he leaned forward a little bit. “This life is for the brave—especially because we have to sit outside of