translates to so many other things—”
“I know what it is. How are you applying the theory is what I care about.”
“Not to me.” Those black eyes flipped up for a moment. “I’m okay.”
iAm didn’t want to argue. Shit knew they’d had plenty of that lately. But he wasn’t sure if such an assessment was true—or if the male was even capable of making that call.
It was better than a lot of other options, however.
“Do you want to talk to Mary?” iAm blurted.
Trez smiled a little. “So many people asking me that lately. Rehv, you.”
“It’s because we’re worried about you.”
“I’m honestly not suicidal.” Just as iAm was trying to hide his surprise, Trez looked up and shrugged. “I’m just not. I’m not saying I wasn’t or that I won’t be again. I’m just not right now. And after the shit I’ve been through, that’s the only kind of reassurance I can give you—or myself, for that matter.”
“I can’t bear to lose you.” iAm had to clear his throat. “Not now. Not ever.”
Trez rubbed his face like his eyes were bothering him. “I’m sorry about all the shit that went down over Therese. You know, last night. And before.”
“Me, too. And I should have—”
“You were right. I was wrong.”
iAm shook his head. Fiddled with the paperwork in front of him. Regretted every bit of the argument—but not as much as he mourned the truth. “I don’t want to be right. Not about any of it.”
“It was just because I wanted to believe. You know, that she’s back.” Trez pointed to the center of his chest. “The pain here—I mean, it’s not as bad as it was at first. But the problem is that I don’t get any relief at all from this toxic pressure. It’s always there. Always with me. As the love for her was, so is the grief over her death. Right here. Every second of the night and through each hour of my piss-poor sleep during the day. And I think… it kind of makes a male crazy, you know?” Touching his head, he continued, “Up here… it isn’t working so well and I didn’t appreciate exactly how badly until now. But I think I’d guessed, though, which was why I lost it when you called me on my delusions.”
iAm found himself, for the millionth time, measuring the extent of his brother’s suffering. It had always seemed unsurmountable. Unsupportable. And now that iAm had maichen? It was incalculable. He couldn’t imagine losing his mate.
“I think I was just desperate,” Trez said. “I desperately don’t want to feel like this anymore and the only way that happens is if Selena is back. And so I convinced myself… well, we’ve been through it.”
“I hate this for you.” iAm rubbed his stinging eyes. “I really do. I always have.”
“Yeah, well. It is what it is.”
“What can I do to help?”
Trez was silent for a while. And then he shook his head. “The only one who can walk over this bed of nails is me. But your just being here? It does help. And it really matters.”
Before iAm could respond, Trez clapped his hands on his thighs, a clear sign that the conversation was over. And that did make sense, iAm supposed. Words only ever went so far. The rest of the distance had to be carried by the relationship that had always been between them. And always would be.
“So,” Trez said brusquely, “what’s new with you? It’s dawning on me that I haven’t asked that in a long while.”
iAm blinked a couple of times. Then he ducked his eyes. “Oh, you know. Same ol’.”
“How’s maichen?”
Pregnant. Which is fucking wonderful and fucking terrifying. “She’s, ah, she’s good.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah.” At least the priests said so. Although what the hell do they know? “Just fine.”
There was another pause. “Then why are you drawing blood right now?”
iAm frowned and looked down at his hand. Sure enough, he had gripped a pencil in his fist so hard that he’d broken it in half and the ragged parts were digging into his palm. Red drops were falling onto the paperwork, staining the bills. The payments. The schedules.
“Tell me what’s going on,” his brother said grimly.
* * *
As Trez watched his next of kin bleed onto the desk, he had the first sense of what he had cost the male since Selena’s death. And close on the heels of that revelation, he had a further one about how he had always taken, taken, taken—and though the narcissism had always