“Come on. I’m happily planning a wedding. I need some drama to make up for all the happy we have over here.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Thanks for counting on me for the bad...” He took a deep breath, and then, “I was an ass. I went with Trevor to a local fair. It was...awkward to say the least. I was meeting his mother for the first time. I’m pretty sure I gave off the worst first impression possible before leaving while he was in the bathroom.”
The other end of the line was silent so long Simon thought they’d been disconnected. Finally, Heather spoke. “Tell me if I’m way off base here, Simon. I’m sure I am but, I have to admit, it sounds like you have something more than friendship with this man.”
Shit. He sat in a chair at the table. He hadn’t thought, just spoken. Of course what he said would make it obvious. And the truth was, Heather didn’t know Simon had ever been with men before. “Would it matter?” he finally asked.
Another pause. “You know me better than that. Of course it wouldn’t, but I have to admit I’m shocked. Is that...have you always been gay? Is that why it didn’t work with us?” There were more questions...pain and more questions in her voice. She had the right to feel those things.
“I’m not gay, sweetheart. I’m using bisexual, I guess. I’ve never labeled it before. I had...before you...but I’m not gay. I was attracted to you. I wanted you. I did love you, Heather.”
He heard her sniff and knew she was crying. “I’m not sure if knowing that helps or not. Maybe it would be easier to say my marriage failed because you’re gay. That way I could blame it on you.”
Because she couldn’t already? “We both know I was responsible no matter my label. The same way I’m responsible for tonight.” Trevor had needed him. When did Trevor really ask for anything? He’d needed Simon and Simon failed him.
“I don’t know.” Simon shook his head. “I don’t know what to do.”
There was a shaky intake of breath through the line. “He means something to you...more than I did.”
He wasn’t sure how to respond to that so he didn’t.
“Don’t walk away. Apologize. You may not think you can do it, but you can. Fix it, Simon. You deserve love too.” She’d also told him that the last time he saw her. He couldn’t say this was love. He didn’t want to think about whether it was or not. That just made things more difficult. But the truth was, he hated that he let Trevor down. Hated that he walked away from him and that they were fighting. He wanted to fix it. He wanted Trevor here with him.
“I don’t know how.”
There was a pause before Heather said, “For such a smart man, you sure can be stupid. You’ll figure it out, Simon. I know you will.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Trevor was lying on the couch with a frozen bag of peas on his eye when the front door opened. He should have gone to his room, because there was only one thing that would happen when Blake saw him. Hell, maybe he wanted that. Maybe he was itching for another fight.
“Ah, shit, Trev. What did you do?”
In his brother’s defense, he’d seen Trevor black and blue from too many fights to count. If he was drunk or high and someone pissed him off, they came to blows. It was just the way things were, but that didn’t mean it didn’t sting that Blake’s first instinct was that Trevor had fucked up. “Screwed up. What else?” And then there was the obvious, he had swung first.
Trevor sat up and his head spun. Shit, they’d knocked him a good one. Pain pulsed through his head in powerful waves.
“Fuck.” Blake ran a hand through his hair and Trevor almost laughed. It wasn’t something his brother did any time other than when he was stressed about Trevor. “What are you on and who did you fight with? Do you remember? Are they okay?” Blake paced the room, nervous energy bouncing off of him.
It wasn’t fair of Trevor, but as each second passed by he got angrier and angrier at his brother. He was supposed to be there for Trevor. He shoved to his feet, dizziness hitting him again. “You know what? Fuck you, man.” He didn’t even ask if Trevor was okay. His only worry where Trevor was concerned was what he took.
“Hey.” Blake grabbed his arm. “Where are you going? We need to get you to rehab and I need to know what happened with the fight.”
The whole night came back to Trevor in flashes—Simon being uncomfortable, Simon leaving, the alcohol...fuck, he’d wanted to go for that drink so bad. Didn’t Blake get how hard this was for him? How much work it was? His head spun again. Every fucking day was a challenge, yet he was doing it. Couldn’t he get some credit for that?
