“Jesus. Don’t say that. I’m panicked enough as it is.” He poured two hefty glasses, slid one over to me, and drank deep from his own. “And I feel like an asshole talking about the mother of my baby that way, but it’s the truth. God help us, it’s the damned truth.”
“I’m sure it’s just the hormones. It’ll all settle in, and then she’ll get that glow and be happy.” I took a sip, hoping like hell everything I was saying would come true. “Have you told Trey yet?”
Cary shook his head. “He’s the one sane thing I’ve got going on right now. I lose him, I’ll lose my mind.”
“He’s stayed with you so far.”
“And I have to work for it, Eva. Every day. I’ve never worked so hard. And I’m not talking about fucking.”
“I didn’t think you were.” I pulled two clean bowls out of the dishwasher, along with spoons. “What I think is that you’re an amazing guy and anyone would be lucky to have you. I’m pretty sure Trey feels the same way.”
“Don’t. Please.” His gaze met mine. “I’m trying to be real here. I don’t need you to blow smoke at me.”
“I’m not. Maybe what I said wasn’t deep, but it’s true.” I paused in front of the rice cooker. “Gideon doesn’t tell me what’s going on with him a lot of the time. He says he’s trying to protect me, but what he’s really doing is protecting himself.”
And it took saying the words aloud to really make them sink in for me.
“He’s afraid that the more he tells me, the more reason he gives me to walk away. But it’s just the opposite, Cary. The more he doesn’t say, the more I don’t feel like he trusts me, and that’s hurting us. You and Trey have been together as long as Gideon and I have.” I reached out and touched his arm. “You have to tell him. If he finds out about the baby some other way—and he will—he might not forgive you.”
Cary sagged against the island, suddenly looking so much older and so tired. “I feel like if I just had more time to get a handle on things, I could deal with Trey.”
“Waiting isn’t helping,” I said gently, scooping rice into the bowls. “You’re backsliding.”
“What else have I got?” His voice came hard with anger. “I don’t fuck around anymore. A monk gets off more than I do.”
I winced, knowing Cary was a man who exemplified what Dr. Petersen had talked about. When Cary had sex, he could turn his brain off and let his body make him feel good, if only for a little while. He didn’t have to think or feel beyond the sensory. It was a coping mechanism he’d had to perfect back when he was the one being fucked, long before he was old enough to even want to.
“You’ve got me,” I countered.
“Baby girl, I love you, but you’re not always what I need to get by.”
“Cutting yourself and banging everyone who’ll let you isn’t getting you by, either. They certainly don’t help you feel good about yourself.”
“Something has to.”
I poured curry over the rice and passed the bowl over along with a spoon. “Taking care of yourself will do it. Trusting the people you love will help, too. Being honest with yourself and with them. Sounds simple, but we both know it’s not. Still, it’s the only way, Cary.”
He flashed me a quick, sad smile and took the food I handed him. “I’m scared.”
“There,” I said softly, returning his smile. “That was honest. Would it help if I’m with you when you talk to Trey?”
“Yeah. I’ll feel like a * for not doing it alone, but yeah, it’d help.”
“Then I’ll be there.”
Cary caught me in a hug from behind, his cheek resting against my shoulder. “You really are always there for me. I love you for that.”
Reaching back, I ran my fingers through his hair. “I love you, too.”
THE comforter lifted away from my skin, waking me, and then the mattress shifted under the weight of the man sliding into my bed.
“Gideon.”