Page 98 of Revealing Mark
His words tore at me. I touched his hand, needing him to feel that he wasn’t alone.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I couldn’t imagine how he must have felt.
“It is what it is.” He shrugged it off.
“It’s why you spent so much time at our house.” Knowing parts of his past made it easier to understand him.
“When I met your family, I saw what a real family was like. Loving parents who loved their kids unconditionally.”
“But your grandfather loved you.”
“As much as he could, but he had limited experience in that department.”
My lip trembled. It was so painful to hear or to even think about him as a small child without the parents he deserved. I touched his cheek.
“You are a good man, Mark. No matter what happened in your childhood or the crappy parents you had, you are one of the best people I know.” I searched his eyes.
He frowned. “I’m not. There are things you don’t know about me. Things few people know.”
It sounded ominous but I didn’t believe it for a second.
“There’s nothing you can say or do that’ll change that.” I shook my head, refusing to believe him.
He would do the right thing no matter what the situation. It was who he was. He was the guy in high school who fought the bullies. Not once had I known him to make a decision I would question.
“You told me you loved me.” His eyes held mine, and suddenly I felt winded.
I hadn’t expected him to bring that up but, while we were on the subject, I was going to be honest—more honest than I think I had ever been with anyone. He needed to hear it.
“I did. It’s true. I love you, I think I always have.”
“You shouldn’t. If you really knew me, you wouldn’t.”
“What do you mean? I know you.” I had known him for years.
“No, you think you do but you don’t.”
I rubbed my temple slightly, making sure not to touch my stitches. “Are you having second thoughts about us?”
His mother’s words echoed in my mind. Was this his way of letting me down gently? It felt unbelievable that we had come this far for it to end now.
“No.” His voice was confident, which made me feel some relief. “I’m too selfish to let you go.”
He was making no sense. He studied me, but I refused to believe anything he was saying.
“You are a good guy.” I put my hands on my hips, determined to win this conversation. The sudden movement pulled sharply at my still tender ribs.
“Ouch.” I put my hand to the side that throbbed with renewed pain.
Mark was up and beside me in a flash. “I should be taking care of you, not arguing with you.”
“I’m not an invalid, and stop treating me like I’m going to break.”
“You had a serious accident,” he argued.
He steered me to his room. Sometimes I loved it when he took charge and other times it annoyed me. Today I was somewhere between the two extremes. He pulled the covers back and I sat down carefully. He removed my shoes and made me lie down.
“You’ve had a long afternoon and you need to rest.”
