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JC
I was furious, and sad, ashamed and unsure, and a million other messy things. I ended up in my room with no idea how I got there. Adrian was right behind me, and we wrestled as I tried to shut the door on him like a kid hiding out. Only he was stronger, fitter—more capable—and I had no way of keeping him out of the room where I wanted to sit and wallow in my misery.
“I mean it!” he repeated, and I slumped to my bed when my legs wouldn’t hold me up. My head hurt, and I felt wobbly and pathetic.
“You know you went to look out for me, the same as you’ve always done.”
“I love you!” he said as he crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his chin. He wanted a fight, and right now, I was ready to fight back. Or hide under the covers of my bed. Either way, I was walking an emotional tightrope.
“See, and that’s why you put yourself at risk, could have died and—”
“I love you,” he repeated.
“Stop that, just because—”
“I love you.” He went to his knees in front of me, and there were tears in his eyes. I couldn’t tell if they were tears of frustration or anger, or somehow his beautiful heart was breaking—I only knew it was all my fault.
It’s always my fault.
“Adrian…”
“I love you, and I will always be right here next to you, as your friend, your partner, one day if you say yes, then maybe your husband, but right now, I’m here because I can’t breathe if I’m not with you. Think about it. How could I even know that we’d end up together when you enlisted? It was me that wanted to be a soldier, me that wanted to make a career that meant something to me. I wanted to be a better person for you, but to do that, I had to cut the ties I had to you. I expected we’d be continents apart, and that was easy to accept because I knew if we were able, that we’d find our way back together. Only, when we did, I wouldn’t just be your best friend, but I’d be a better man for you, and I’d deserve a place in your world.”
I blinked at him because he’d just thrown a ton of information at me. Did he think that he wasn’t worthy of me when he was the best person I knew? None of that made sense.
“Adrian, please—”
“You have to know that I’m my own man, and sweetheart, so are you…” he stopped for a moment, and it seemed to me as if he hadn’t meant that endearment to escape. Had he been holding it in a long time?
Did he love me the same as I loved him?
“Sweetheart?” He held my hands to stop the shaking, then slotted between my legs, fitting there so perfectly.
“Babe, sweetheart, it’s all there all in my head.”
I couldn’t make sense of this—none of it.
“Oh.”
He smiled then and leaned up so he could press a kiss to my chest, and I rested my head on his. We stayed that way for the longest time until I swear we might never move. Even the shaking in my hand stilled, and my headache was easing.
“Oh,” I repeated wonderingly. He was right about not knowing where he’d end up if we both signed up. He was gifted with his hands, construction; maybe he’d have ended up an engineer. I wasn’t sure what I was gifted at, but it certainly wasn’t engineering. Perhaps he was destined to do bigger and better things than me, or maybe I would have found skills beyond being the son of a famous actor, and I would have shone.
Either way, he was right; we would have ended up together after it all.
But, accepting that our love was more significant than any single decision and that fate would always draw us together meant I had to stop blaming myself for everything. I had to take a leap of faith if I was going to see what happened next if I let go of the guilt.
“Can I see you?”
He lifted his head and glanced up at me, confused. “What?”
“I just need to look into your eyes, and I need to hear you say you chose your path, and it wasn’t on me.”
He huffed and eased himself away from me—as soon as he released his hold of my hands, I felt bereft. “I just told you all that.”
I stood up, wobbly and emotional, and cradled his face, holding him still. “Tell me again. Just once.”
He attempted to pull back, and I knew I’d pushed things too far, but in the end, he closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them, they were bright with emotion.
“I chose my path. I will always choose my own path.” He covered my hands with his own. “But I know for sure that wherever it goes, and however long it takes, I will always end up right next to you in the end.”
And I could see it in his eyes. Honesty. Love.
I pressed my lips to his, a gentle kiss, a promise, and he smiled into the kiss. “Do you believe me now?”
“Maybe I need to hear it again?” I deadpanned, and he eased me onto the bed. I pulled him back with me, and we kissed again, gently, wonderingly, and then the kiss deepened a second at a time, until it was all-consuming.
“You don’t need to hear me repeat it.” He whispered against my lips and then trailed kisses down to my chest, easing up my t-shirt and pressing a kiss there. “You already know it in your heart.”
I gripped him hard, “we should go back down and apologize to—”
A knock interrupted me. “Adrian? I need to talk to you,” George said from outside the room, and then he tried the handle, the door easing open. The fuck?
Even though I tried to hold him, Adrian clambered off the bed.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, his shoulders straight, and all signs of the smiles gone.
“There’s been another box, only this time…” George stopped talking, clearly recalling I was in the room. He was badass former military, but I’d never seen his expression as stony as right now.
“What?” I asked, then swung my legs to sit on the edge of my bed. “Tell me.”
George glanced from Adrian to me and back again, and there was no hint of a smile.
“This time, the explosive was real.”
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