Page 169 of Gym Bros
“I get that, and maybe him knowing that from the beginning would have changed things between you, but it also might not have.”
Ryan says, “I have a feeling he’s more upset about what his dad did.”
“He’s probably worried about his family. His mom.” Mal agrees.
He’s probably destroyed, and it’s killing me not to be there to help pick up the pieces.
“What do you need from us?” Ryan asks.
“Do you think I’m forgivable?”
“Yes,” he says without equivocation.
“Do you think he’ll ever want me again?”
They’re both quiet for too long of a moment. Then Mal says, “You won’t know until you ask.”
“How much time should I give him?”
“No time,” Mal says at the same time Ryan says, “A couple days.”
The look they exchange would make me smile under any other circumstance.
“Maybe until tomorrow,” Mal says.
Ryan goes on, “Let him process the fact that his dad’s been unfaithful. That’s a tough pill.”
I take a shaky breath. “Should I text him?”
“He knows how to get a hold of you if he wants to talk,” Ryan says. “I really do think he needs some space, and that’s mainly because the situation isn’t about just the two of you.”
Mal sighs. “I can’t imagine loving someone enough to marry them and then sleeping with other people. Like just ask for a divorce.”
“He’s not a bad guy,” I say, but I don’t know why. “Broken, maybe, for whatever reason. I don’t know, though. We weren’t close like that.”
“We’re all a little broken,” Ryan says.
“Samuel wasn’t,” I reply. “It was like—one of the most refreshing things about him.”
“But it’s not like it’s the only thing you love about him.”
“No,” I say. “But I do wonder what happens to him after something like this.”
“Maybe he gets a little more cynical. A little less trusting. But that doesn’t mean he loses the capacity,” Malcolm says.
Ryan reaches up and squeezes Mal’s wrist. Malcolm lifts his hand from my chest to hold Ryan’s.
It’s getting warm between these two—not in a sexual tension kind of way—it’s just a lot of masculine body heat. “How am I supposed to sleep tonight?” I ask, causing a fresh wave of tears to wash down my face. I wipe them with the heels of my hands. I never took off my makeup from earlier, and I must look like a fucking mess.
“You take a nice long shower, put on some sad music and zone the fuck out,” Mal says.
I press my lips together, tasting my tears, and nod. “Thanks, you guys.”
“We can stay if you want,” Ryan says.
“No, this was what I needed. I’m glad you two were able to work it out and find your way back to each other.”
“Don’t give up, okay?” Mal says. “Not if you love him. Not if you know he’s the one.”
