Page 95 of Pretty When He Bleeds

I hesitate, my fingers twitching against his stomach. I don’t want to ruin this—this calm, this moment. But I can’t keep this shit bottled up, not when it’s already eating me alive. I sigh and close my eyes. “My mom’s coming down.”

His fingers pause, just for a second, before they continue their slow path along my back. “Yeah?”

I nod against his chest. “Yeah. I called her after my session. It wasn’t a… good session, and I just needed to hear someone else’s voice.”

“What’d she say?”

I take a breath, trying to sort through the fucking mess in my head. “I told her about us being together and… then she asked me if I knew about you and Caleb.”

Roman’s whole body goes rigid, and I lift my head to meet his gaze. His lips part like he’s about to say something, but nothing comes out. A few seconds pass and he finally tries again, only managing a whispered, “She knew?”

“Yeah,” I murmur. “She said she was waiting for him to tell her like I did. But he never did, “my jaw clenches. “She blames herself for not going to him first.”

His face twists, and I know exactly what’s going through his head. The same fucking what-ifs that have haunted me for years.

“She said she needs to tell me something in person,” I continue, my voice quieter now. “I don’t know what the fuck that means, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Roman doesn’t say anything, but I can feel the shift in the air. The way his fingers tighten slightly against my skin, the way his breath turns just a little shallower. I press my forehead against his chest, swallowing down the lump in my throat. “I don’t know what she wants to tell me. But it feels… big.”

He lets out a breath, his fingers threading into my hair. “When is she getting here?”

“A few days, maybe.” I close my eyes, exhaustion settling in my bones. “She didn’t say much else.”

He’s silent for a moment, then he tightens his arms around me like he’s trying to shield me from whatever’s coming. I let him. Then, quietly, I say, “I don’t know how to accept this.”

Roman shifts, tilting my chin up so I have to look at him. “Accept what?”

I wet my lips, suddenly feeling too raw, too exposed. “Affection. Care. Whatever the fuck this is.” I gesture vaguely between us. “I don’t know how to just take it without thinking there’s some kind of catch.”

His expression softens, but he doesn’t push, he just waits. I force myself to keep going, to rip the bandage off completely. “The night before Caleb died… my father called me.”

I force myself to keep talking, even though my chest is getting tighter with every word. “He found out about me being gay.” I huff out a humorless laugh. “Said I was a demon. That I was corrupting Caleb. That I was an abomination.”

“Then he cut me off financially,” I continue, my voice flat. “Luckily, my grandfather set up a trust for me, so I was able to get by, but still… I was cut off—from my family, from everything I knew and to hear my father call me those things… Then, not even twenty-four hours later, Caleb was gone.”

He lets out a shaky breath, his fingers pressing harder into my skin. “That’s when it started,” I whisper. “The voices. The static. I lost my fucking mind, Roman.”

His arms tighten around me, pulling me closer. “Babe—”

“I got help,” I say quickly. “I—I was in a bad place for a long time, but I got help. I was better.” I shake my head, my throat tight. “Then I re-enrolled this year, and I saw you.”

Roman swallows hard, his eyes locked on mine as I continue. “And suddenly, I wasn’t better anymore.”

His face twists, but I don’t stop. I can’t. “I blamed you,” I admit. “I fucking hated you. Told myself you let him die, that you were responsible, that you should’ve done something.”

His entire body flinches like I struck him. “But it wasn’t true,” I say quickly. “It wasn’t fucking true, and I knew it. Even when I was telling myself it was, even when I was feeding myself that fucking lie—I knew.”

Roman’s quiet for so long that my stomach fucking churns. “I don’t blame you,” I murmur. “I never really did.”

He exhales shakily, his eyes glossing over. “Damon…”

I lean in, pressing my forehead against his. “You loved him, and when you lost him, I lost him, too.” His breath catches, and I press my lips against his, soft and slow, trying to make him understand.

“I don’t know how to be loved, Roman,” I admit against his mouth. “But you’re making me want to fucking learn.”

Roman pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes filled with something I don’t fucking deserve. But he gives it to me, anyway.

Roman

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