to register the question. Right. He did work for Ian Caldwell now, though it was a little surprising that such a young guy was referring to the CEO with such familiarity. “I’ve worked for this company for a decade,” he said, studying the guy for a moment and not recognizing him at all. “You must be new?”
Miles shook his head with a laugh. “Oh, I don’t work here—not anymore, at least.” He paused, and then said, blushing a little, “I’m Ian’s boyfriend.”
Andrew stared.
Part of him, the part that could think rationally, vaguely recalled hearing Shawn and Derek mentioning someone named Miles, but he hadn’t been interested enough to care at the time.
“Oh,” he said. “I thought…”
Miles smiled crookedly. “You thought Ian was straight,” he stated, pulling a funny face. “We get that a lot.” His gaze became sharper. “Is that a problem?”
“No,” Andrew said after a moment. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
Miles nodded, his expression softening again. “Okay, see you around, then,” he said with a smile before striding into the office. He pushed the door closed, but it didn’t shut all the way.
Andrew didn’t intend to eavesdrop. He was simply standing there, feeling frozen, as he listened to the couple inside the office. There was some laughter, Caldwell’s cold voice sounding noticeably warmer, and then there was the sound of kissing. A soft moan.
“Mmm, I missed you,” Miles said, followed by more kissing sounds.
Andrew bit his bottom lip hard, staring at the opposite wall unseeingly.
“It’s been just a few hours,” Caldwell said with a laugh before his voice became serious. “How was it?”
“It was… okay. A little awkward, but better than I expected. Your sister even smiled at me by the end of the lunch. Well, almost smiled, but I take it as a win. Baby steps. Rome wasn’t built in a day.”
Caldwell sighed. “You must regret leaving the UK for this shit.”
“I didn’t leave the UK for this shit.” Miles’s voice was soft. “I left it for you, but it doesn’t make me some kind of self-sacrificing martyr. It was actually a pretty selfish decision. I want to be with you because you make me happy. Very selfish, isn’t it?”
Caldwell chuckled, and then there were more sounds of kissing.
Andrew slowly moved away.
His chest felt tight. Achy.
I want to be with you because you make me happy.
Such simple words, but they hurt.
The ache in his chest aside, it wasn’t pleasant to realize that he’d been lying to himself. He felt foolish now. Delusional. He had been so determined to get his old life back that he had somehow failed to realize that it may not have been possible at all, that he may not have been the same person at all.
He might not have been a depressed mess anymore, but he wasn’t the Andrew Reyes he had been a year ago. He couldn’t be that person again. The island had changed him. His old beliefs and emotions felt so distant now. He didn’t think the same way. He didn’t feel the same way. If a year ago he’d overheard Ian Caldwell kissing some guy in his office, Andrew would have sneered. He would have felt disgusted, not… whatever the tight feeling in his chest was.
Coward, a voice said at the back of his mind. You know what you’re feeling. Envy. Jealousy. Yearning.
Heartache.
Andrew closed the door of the restroom behind him and staggered to the sink. He opened the tap and splashed cold water on his face.
“I just miss Vivian,” he whispered.
Coward, the voice said again. It’s not her you miss.
“Shut up.” He felt like a madman, talking to himself. Maybe he was mad. Maybe all of this wasn’t real and he would wake up any moment, curled up in Logan’s arms—
The yearning that hit him was so strong that Andrew had to bite his lip, his eyes tearing up.
God, he hated himself. He’d thought he was finally past this. He’d thought he was finally cured of him. But it seemed all he’d managed to accomplish was to push Logan to the back of his mind and suppress, suppress, suppress. Being okay wasn’t the same as being happy.
I want to be with you because you make me happy.
The door behind him opened. “Andrew?”
Andrew lifted his gaze and met a pair of concerned blue eyes in the mirror. Right. Nate. Raffaele Ferrara’s assistant.
He blinked the wetness away from his eyes, hoping it wasn’t obvious that he’d been this close to crying. “Hey. Were you looking for me?” he said, pretty proud