roll down my cheeks. His honesty, it’s raw and real, and I feel for him. It couldn’t have been easy on him. To know, and not really know.
His eyes follow the tear down my cheek, and then he lifts his hand with a sigh, brushing his knuckles over my face. “I knew when I met you, it was wrong, but I couldn’t stop myself once I tasted you.”
I snort at the irony of his words. Laughter surfaces, from both of us, and he smirks, and I see Atlas in him. “Literally,” I tease through my tears, my voice cracking.
Awkward silence lingers. He’s quiet for several moments, and I open my mouth to prompt him, but the torture in his eyes stops me.
He chews on his lip, working through emotions I can’t see, but I know they’re eating at him. His eyes gloss over and his words lower. “I was so angry that I lost Athena that in the beginning, I didn’t want to find you. I was angry that they took her heart, her eyes, her skin. I wasn’t grateful. I was pissed. She’d just given birth and then—” His words halt and he shakes his head, as if he can’t fathom what to say next. I reach out, my hand on his shoulder, softly reassuring him. He swallows, and his body tenses. “They took her off life support and into surgery where they basically took everything. There was nothing left of her but bones.” His chin shakes, his jaw clenching. “And I get it, man.” He nods, blowing out a sigh. “She gave others a chance at life, but there I was, holding a newborn baby, and resentful that she would never meet him.” Tears roll silently down his cheeks, his eyes trained straight ahead. “It was supposed to be the best time of our lives and it was gone in the blink of an eye. I didn’t—” He stops again, clearing his throat. He sniffs, brushing away the tears quickly. “I didn’t get to say goodbye or tell her that I loved her. At least not where she heard me.” For the first time during his admission, he turns his head and looks over at me. It burns, his regard for me, and my tears flow freely. I try to appear unfazed, but I’m not. His words hurt, dig down deep, and burrow inside my bones. They fester and give my own pain an outlet in some weird way. We’re both suffering. “I didn’t know how to deal with it. And I didn’t, for a really long time. I’m not sure I have. All I know is that I have him.” He pauses, his eyes drifting to the bar, and then returning to mine. He shakes his head in exasperation. “And I don’t know what else.”
I swallow over the emotion clogging my words. This is the heart, literally, of our dilemma. I have something that belonged to them. I hadn’t thought of his position in this. I hadn’t, until now, with tears rolling down his cheeks, considered his pain. And it’s painstakingly obvious he cares for me. My heart swells for him. I don’t know why, but I hug him. I wrap my arms around him and offer comfort because it’s the right thing to do. Sometimes people fuck up. They fuck up so badly they don’t know how to fix it.
He holds me tighter, his arms irons around my fragile frame. I feel his lips press to my temple, and then the top of my head. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” I tell him, though I don’t know what for. Maybe everything.
“It’s fitting,” he whispers into my ear.
I stare behind him at the fading sun, with splashes of orange and pink spilling over the horizon. “What?”
He pulls back, his knuckles gently grazing my cheek. I meet his gaze. “Your name,” he murmurs. He stares at me as if he’s trying to convey his apology to my soul. “I feel like I’ve gone through this journey just to find you in the end.”
And for the next twenty minutes, he doesn’t make excuses or tell me everything is going to be okay. He just holds me. I don’t know where we go from here, if anywhere, but I take comfort in knowing he’s not pushing me into anything.
Leader - A length of line, usually heavier than the main line, used to connect the lure or hook to the main line. Leaders are often added because the end of the line