Leo’s shoulders stiffen, confirming my suspicions from earlier.
"Eli decided to become Brett’s and Caleb’s best friend. Did you know he once bought twenty chairs from Caleb when he found out that woodworking took Caleb’s mind off life? He dumped a huge amount of his savings on chairs that he just ended up giving away because he had no where to keep them.
"And if Brett needed something, Eli was always there. For the first few months after the wreck, I ran off every sitter Brett could hire. He didn’t want to leave my side, but he had to get back to work. He started working nights so I’d be asleep while he was gone. He still worried though, especially after the first time I tried to kill myself." I pause as the emotions creep into my throat. "Eli volunteered to start sleeping on our couch. They didn’t think I noticed since I never really came out of my room. But about ten minutes after Brett walked out of the house that first night, I heard Eli break down. I didn’t understand it back then, but the sound of this otherwise strong man sobbing lulled me to sleep. I’ll never forget it as long as I live.
"So, yes, Eli fucked up. He did a terrible, horrible thing, but if a terrible, horrible person like myself can’t forgive him, who will?"
"And I love that you feel that way, ángel. But it doesn’t change the fact that he ruined your life. He should have done the right thing to begin with. He should have been a fucking man and not left you for dead." He brushes the hair off my shoulder, trying to offer me his magical comfort, but I’m not the one who needs it tonight.
"You’re not Eli, Leo," I whisper.
"I didn’t say I was," he quickly answers.
"No, but you were thinking it. That’s why you got so pissy earlier, isn’t it?"
"No," he responds, but even though it’s only a single word, I can tell it’s a lie.
"Let me tell you why—" I start, and Leo suddenly lifts me off his lap and shifts me to the couch next to him as he jumps to his feet.
"No! I don’t want you to tell me why. For fuck’s sake, I feel like I’m dating a shrink. I want you to let this shit rip me to shreds because that is what I deserve. Don’t make me feel better. Tell me I’m a fucking piece of shit!"
"Then tell me I’m a piece of shit. Because if you are, I am too!" I shout back at him.
He stares at me for a minute before beginning to pace the room and speaking Spanish so fast that I can’t even pick out a single word.
"Stop speaking in Spanish. If you’re going to talk shit about yourself, at least use words I can understand."
He stills and looks over at me blankly.
"Well, since you don’t seem to be able to adequately express yourself in English, I’m going to be forced to repeat: You. Are. Not. Eli."
"Fuck," he growls, stomping past me into the kitchen.
I flop down on the couch and begin picking at my nails, waiting for him to settle down. It’s not a quick process, so I start scrolling through my phone as I listen to him pace.
"Here," Leo says, walking back into the room, placing a beer and glass of wine down on the table in front of us.
"You know, if I drink that, I’m not leaving."
"Well, it doesn’t appear that you’re leaving anyway," he snarks but then gives me a quick kiss. He grabs his beer off the table before letting out a resigned sigh. "Four years ago, I sat next to Erica as our identities were stripped from us upon entry into the Witness Protection Program. I spent over two hours arguing with them because they tried to separate us. They should have separated us," he quickly clarifies before leaning forward and passing me the wine. "We had formed this completely unhealthy bond—her fears and my need to keep her safe. The whole team was convinced we were romantically involved, because back then, I would sleep on the floor of her hotel room every night. I want to sit here and tell you she needed me. She didn’t. I needed her."
He takes another sip of his beer and I follow suit with my wine.
"She freaked out, screaming and crying, when they told her they couldn’t allow us to be together. I knew they were right. She would have been better off without me, but I was so fucking selfish. I knew I wouldn’t be better without her. So I fought them. I argued them in circles and finally told them we wouldn’t testify if they tried to split us. I didn’t know what the fuck I was going to do. Half of the drug dealers in the country wanted my head for all the incriminating evidence I had against them. But I grabbed her hand and marched out of the office. We got all the way to the street before they thankfully stopped us. We both would have been dead by the end of the night if they hadn’t. I was just so desperate back then…" he trails off, covering his face with his free hand.