Page 71 of Filthy Little Secret

“Thank you.”

Even with him still right here, my body aches, hungers for him, as if it knows it’s going to be hard to be without him even for a brief amount of time.

“Okay,” he says. “I’m gonna head out. If you need anything, you text…you call. I’ll drop everything and be right back here, you got it?”

His words offer me some ease.

Maybe I’m making too big of a deal out of the time apart. Maybe he’ll realize how silly it is to spend time away from each other once he gets away for a while.

“Okay,” I say, and though I’m trying to be strong right now, I can hear the sadness in my own voice as I say it.

He heads for the door.

“Not even a kiss?” I ask.

He turns around and offers a light peck on my lips. It stings a little bit because it’s in part of the place where I got hit last night.

The sting isn’t as bad, though, as when he heads out, having left me with nothing more than such a little kiss.

I’m afraid that last night was too much for him.

Doesn’t he feel the way I do when I’m with him? How could he even consider giving this up over something as stupid as what happened last night?

He needs the day to think about it, I keep telling myself. He needs to calm down and get through the adrenaline that’s been rushing through him ever since it happened. Then he’ll start thinking rationally again.

But no amount of logic is going to help me as my face trembles and I lean onto the kitchen island for a good cry.

25

TIM

“Where’s Mark?” Nanna asks.

“He has a fundraiser he has to attend with his family, so he’s just staying up with them for a bit.”

A lie. He’s going to be there tonight, but that’s not why we haven’t spent the past few days together, which have been brutal—painful.

I fucking feel it right in my chest and my gut.

I miss my Mark so much.

I’ve been wrestling with this for the past few days. He deserves someone better.

He deserves someone who has a future…or who at least can imagine a future that doesn’t involve drugs.

“Is that the real reason?” she asks.

I’m surprised. I’ve been so good at keeping things from her—been keeping this shit about drugs from her for so long—that I figure I’m immune to her being able to read me. Although, considering I’ve never let another guy in, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that she knows something’s up.

“There’s just stuff.”

“Stuff? You’re always so specific.”

I have to be vague. It’s the only way I can tell her shit and keep her from finding out about this shameful life I’ve been living.

I sigh. “Life.”

“You’re so closed off, Tim. You always have been, and I’ve always let you do your thing, but do you want my opinion here?”

---