Page 95 of Wistful Whispers
“Seamus?” I press my hands over his. “What is it?”
He doesn’t lift his head. “I didn’t want to fall apart like this.”
“Hey.” I coax his arms down so I can see his face. His eyes are glassy and unfocused. His mouth turned down in a grimace, like he’s holding in something sharp.
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” His voice cracks. “That was…amazing. You’re perfect. It’s just—” He breaks off, like the words get caught in his throat.
“What?” The fear still creeps in like smoke under the door.
“I feel like I’m drowning,” he rasps. “I’ve been trying so hard to keep it together for you. For us. The truth is I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing anymore. With Caldwell. With work. With everything.”
Bracing myself for the worst, I shift up beside him. Pull him into me, winding my arms around his shoulders. His damp forehead presses on my collarbone as he trembles against me. His devastation cracks me open. “Talk to me.”
“I met with Dr. Madison. She told me Caldwell…” He squeezes his eyes shut. “He’s actively building something against me to push me out.”
I feel the air leave the room. “What?”
“Oh, he’s doing it. There’s no doubt. It all makes sense now.” He slumps back against the cushions.
“Because he fucked up and you called him on it?” I’m furious.
He looks at me, broken. “I don’t know who I am anymore. I did what I did. Then Miranda…and I don’t regret helping you or her family. But Caldwell, the silence, the fucking exile—and now this? I don’t think I come back from it.”
“You don’t have to,” I say gently. “It’s a bump in the road. There’s got to be a way to move forward.”
He shakes his head. “I can’t even fathom how. Moving forward probably means leaving all of this behind.”
“Including me?” I choke out selfishly.
“I don’t know.” His voice cracks. “I don’t want to. I can’t promise anything. My professional life is in utter fucking chaos.”
I swallow the ache in my chest because I need to put big girl panties on. Shove my own terrified feelings aside and be there for him without worrying how it affects me.
“I’m not going to pressure you, baby. You’re the kindest, sweetest, most caring man I’ve ever known and I’m horrified you’re in this position.” I cup his cheek. “It’s unfair for you to have this hanging over your head and reprehensible for Caldwell to try and destroy you over his own mistake.”
He pulls me into his lap, buries his face in my shoulder. “You always make me feel like I’m enough.”
“You are.” I press my forehead to his.
God. What have I walked into tonight? Even though I knew something was off the second I walked in—I didn’t expect this. I have no idea how to help him other than allowing him to work through his complicated situation without me trying to influence him one way or the other.
His arms are still around my waist when I say, “I need to ask you something.”
He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t speak.
I wait.
“You can be honest. Are you questioning our relationship?” My voice cracks. “Or is this only about Caldwell?”
His head drops to my shoulder. The silence between us is like an icy wind permeating the warmth between our bodies.
“I don’t know,” Seamus admits. “Maybe both. Maybe they’re the same thing.”
It hits me like a slap.
I pull away enough to see his face. “Oh?”
“You asked for honesty and the truth is, I wouldn’t be questioning this—us—if you hadn’t needed me to go against him. Then again, if I hadn’t…” he swallows hard, “if I hadn’t been in her surgery I wouldn’t have spent the last two months wondering whether I destroyed my entire career because I didn’t play politics right. On the other hand, I wouldn’t have met you and you’re the best thing in my life right now.”
