I turned away. I didn't want to hear anymore, but Corrigan caught my shoulders. He pressed me back and held me paralyzed. "When you broke up, you were here for months before you even told me. I'm not stupid. I know why you didn't tell me. You were scared shitless of what would happen because something could happen. What do you think you do to me?"
"I can't—don't." I turned my head away. He pressed against me, but I was desperate. He was pushing something on me. I couldn't accept it. I couldn't handle it. "Don't!"
Suddenly, Corrigan ripped away from me. I fell from his sudden absence. He'd been holding me up, but I caught myself.
I would always catch myself.
Corrigan asked then, in a strained voice, "What do you want from me? You don't want to deal with us, but if I try to leave, you don't want that either. I can't say anything, but I can't leave. You want me here, but only a certain way. It doesn't work that way, Sheldon. You have to open your damn eyes, and you have to see what's in front of you."
"Stop," I whispered. I was broken. "Please. Stop. I can't…"
He caught me and lifted me up. His arms went around me as he carried me into the kitchen. When he placed me on the counter, with him between my legs, he hugged me tight. "I kissed you that night."
I closed my eyes. It didn't matter. Darkness against memory—I remembered that night perfectly. Bryce had called him and told him that I was home. It was early June. He had kissed me, and I had clung to him. I hadn't wanted to let go. Corrigan was my life preserver. He would always save me.
He continued, "I kissed you that night, and you need to be honest about it. What did you feel? What did you feel that night?"
He gripped my hair and made me look into his eyes. They were so forceful in the moonlight. Something fell away inside of me. I was unable to hide anymore. "I felt you!"
Corrigan shut his mouth, but his eyes promised so much, too much.
"I felt you, and I felt alive. I hadn't felt that since—" since Marcus. I closed my eyes. "I didn't love just him anymore."
He was right. He'd always been right. Bryce knew. Corrigan knew. I'd been the last to know. I loved Corrigan. I did. But then I closed my eyes and I whispered, "I love him too."
Corrigan smoothed my hair from my forehead. He rested his forehead against mine and whispered, "I know. He knows that too."
"I love him and I…love you."
It was ripped out of me.
Corrigan kissed my forehead and then tilted my head back. "You are going to kill me someday."
"Probably." A smile snuck out. "I do have a lot of people trying to kill me, and if you keep hanging out with me…"
He groaned, "You are not funny right now."
"I know. I'm never funny."
He took a deep breath and rested his forehead against mine again.
"I feel exhausted, Corrigan." I was more than exhausted. I wanted to curl in bed and hide for a lifetime.
"Tell me about it. Trying to get you to admit something is like running ten marathons back to back." Corrigan stepped back. I felt him. I knew he was still close.
"You didn't tell me how you feel?" I held my breath.
He waited a few moments to answer, but then he did. He sounded almost sad. "It doesn't matter what I feel, Sheldon. Not right now. Bryce is still my best friend. You still love him. I know he loves you, and you and I are not going to f**k up anything right now. Our friendship works."
"Wait," I cried out, my heart pounding. "What just happened here?"
"Nothing." He sounded so tired, like he had nothing more in him. "You were honest. Finally. But nothing else happened. You and I are not together. You and Bryce are not really broken up, but you've always known that, haven't you?"
He was right. Everything he said and made me say was true. I hadn't wanted to see any of it. Life was easier when nothing changed. We worked before.
I whispered, "Why did it have to change?"
Corrigan laughed softly. His voice was a little farther away. "I don't know, but things change. If nothing changed, we'd never grow. Shit. Anyways, that's for a whole other battle. Right now, I'm going to go and pick up Matt. I'll be back in a little bit with your car." He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Lock the gate behind me."
As he left, I keyed in the code and locked the gate. Then I stood there. I'd never felt so alone before and for the first time, maybe ever, I didn't like it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
I went numb after Corrigan left. He knew the pass-codes. He could let himself into the house with his key, and I wouldn't need to see him until morning, but I was awake. When I lifted my glass, the clock's big red numbers glared at me. It was nearing four in the morning. He'd been gone for five hours. It didn't take that long to get Matt and head to the hotel for my car.
When I walked into the kitchen, still with the lights off, I took out my phone, but the gate buzzed at that same second. Relief rushed through me. It was dizzying. When I pressed it open, I never stopped to make sure it was Corrigan. As I neared the door, the flashing red lights stopped me in my tracks. A different sense of numbness flooded my body and I opened the door. My heart started to race.
Officer Patterson got out of her car. Her body was rigid. When I saw the pain in her eyes, I knew she wasn't there with good news.
"Don't tell me he's dead. Don't say those words," I pleaded.
Regret flashed over her face. She looked older than her thirty-six years. Her blonde hair looked darker than normal. It had been pulled back into a haphazard ponytail, and she smoothed back some strands in front of her face and crossed to meet me on the porch. Dressed in casual clothes, a pair of wrinkly jeans and a white tee shirt, I figured she'd come from her home.
"There was an accident a block away from the Wilshire Hotel. We thought it was you, Sheldon." Sheila paused and took a breath. "The fraternity boy told us what happened. Corrigan was driving your car and the brakes went out. It rolled through a traffic light. It was a head-on collision. Corrigan is—"
I stopped breathing.
She nodded, grave. "He's in surgery. I can't tell you what's all wrong with him, but I know he's being treated right now. The doctors aren't saying anything."
"I can't—don't." I turned my head away. He pressed against me, but I was desperate. He was pushing something on me. I couldn't accept it. I couldn't handle it. "Don't!"
Suddenly, Corrigan ripped away from me. I fell from his sudden absence. He'd been holding me up, but I caught myself.
I would always catch myself.
Corrigan asked then, in a strained voice, "What do you want from me? You don't want to deal with us, but if I try to leave, you don't want that either. I can't say anything, but I can't leave. You want me here, but only a certain way. It doesn't work that way, Sheldon. You have to open your damn eyes, and you have to see what's in front of you."
"Stop," I whispered. I was broken. "Please. Stop. I can't…"
He caught me and lifted me up. His arms went around me as he carried me into the kitchen. When he placed me on the counter, with him between my legs, he hugged me tight. "I kissed you that night."
I closed my eyes. It didn't matter. Darkness against memory—I remembered that night perfectly. Bryce had called him and told him that I was home. It was early June. He had kissed me, and I had clung to him. I hadn't wanted to let go. Corrigan was my life preserver. He would always save me.
He continued, "I kissed you that night, and you need to be honest about it. What did you feel? What did you feel that night?"
He gripped my hair and made me look into his eyes. They were so forceful in the moonlight. Something fell away inside of me. I was unable to hide anymore. "I felt you!"
Corrigan shut his mouth, but his eyes promised so much, too much.
"I felt you, and I felt alive. I hadn't felt that since—" since Marcus. I closed my eyes. "I didn't love just him anymore."
He was right. He'd always been right. Bryce knew. Corrigan knew. I'd been the last to know. I loved Corrigan. I did. But then I closed my eyes and I whispered, "I love him too."
Corrigan smoothed my hair from my forehead. He rested his forehead against mine and whispered, "I know. He knows that too."
"I love him and I…love you."
It was ripped out of me.
Corrigan kissed my forehead and then tilted my head back. "You are going to kill me someday."
"Probably." A smile snuck out. "I do have a lot of people trying to kill me, and if you keep hanging out with me…"
He groaned, "You are not funny right now."
"I know. I'm never funny."
He took a deep breath and rested his forehead against mine again.
"I feel exhausted, Corrigan." I was more than exhausted. I wanted to curl in bed and hide for a lifetime.
"Tell me about it. Trying to get you to admit something is like running ten marathons back to back." Corrigan stepped back. I felt him. I knew he was still close.
"You didn't tell me how you feel?" I held my breath.
He waited a few moments to answer, but then he did. He sounded almost sad. "It doesn't matter what I feel, Sheldon. Not right now. Bryce is still my best friend. You still love him. I know he loves you, and you and I are not going to f**k up anything right now. Our friendship works."
"Wait," I cried out, my heart pounding. "What just happened here?"
"Nothing." He sounded so tired, like he had nothing more in him. "You were honest. Finally. But nothing else happened. You and I are not together. You and Bryce are not really broken up, but you've always known that, haven't you?"
He was right. Everything he said and made me say was true. I hadn't wanted to see any of it. Life was easier when nothing changed. We worked before.
I whispered, "Why did it have to change?"
Corrigan laughed softly. His voice was a little farther away. "I don't know, but things change. If nothing changed, we'd never grow. Shit. Anyways, that's for a whole other battle. Right now, I'm going to go and pick up Matt. I'll be back in a little bit with your car." He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Lock the gate behind me."
As he left, I keyed in the code and locked the gate. Then I stood there. I'd never felt so alone before and for the first time, maybe ever, I didn't like it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
I went numb after Corrigan left. He knew the pass-codes. He could let himself into the house with his key, and I wouldn't need to see him until morning, but I was awake. When I lifted my glass, the clock's big red numbers glared at me. It was nearing four in the morning. He'd been gone for five hours. It didn't take that long to get Matt and head to the hotel for my car.
When I walked into the kitchen, still with the lights off, I took out my phone, but the gate buzzed at that same second. Relief rushed through me. It was dizzying. When I pressed it open, I never stopped to make sure it was Corrigan. As I neared the door, the flashing red lights stopped me in my tracks. A different sense of numbness flooded my body and I opened the door. My heart started to race.
Officer Patterson got out of her car. Her body was rigid. When I saw the pain in her eyes, I knew she wasn't there with good news.
"Don't tell me he's dead. Don't say those words," I pleaded.
Regret flashed over her face. She looked older than her thirty-six years. Her blonde hair looked darker than normal. It had been pulled back into a haphazard ponytail, and she smoothed back some strands in front of her face and crossed to meet me on the porch. Dressed in casual clothes, a pair of wrinkly jeans and a white tee shirt, I figured she'd come from her home.
"There was an accident a block away from the Wilshire Hotel. We thought it was you, Sheldon." Sheila paused and took a breath. "The fraternity boy told us what happened. Corrigan was driving your car and the brakes went out. It rolled through a traffic light. It was a head-on collision. Corrigan is—"
I stopped breathing.
She nodded, grave. "He's in surgery. I can't tell you what's all wrong with him, but I know he's being treated right now. The doctors aren't saying anything."
