“C’mon,” I told him and pulled back the comforter and sheets.
Trent loosened his belt buckle and unbuttoned his blood-stained jeans. I helped him pull them off, and he got in the bed, dressed only in his boxers.
“Are you dizzy? Sick to your stomach?” I asked.
“Nah.”
“Stop being strong,” I snapped.
“Would you rather I cry?”
“No. Yes.” I contradicted myself. “Fuck!”
“Come here.” He lifted his arm.
My shoulders slumped a little, and I went to him. I moved gingerly on the mattress, afraid I might hurt him. He wasn’t having it, though. He pulled me into his side and anchored an arm at my waist.
“I’m sorry you had to find me like that tonight.”
I made a choked sound. “You don’t owe me an apology.”
“I think maybe I do.” The tone in his voice changed with those words. They became serious and strange… kind of shuttered like his eyes had been downstairs.
I pulled back a fraction. “What do you have to be sorry for?”
His face turned down, staring into his lap. His whispered words blew up yet another chunk of my heart.
“I’m sorry loving you isn’t enough.”
Trent
Love is patient. Love is kind.
That’s what they say.
They also say love doesn’t take; love only gives.
While those words are beautiful, they aren’t true.
Love does take.
Loving someone takes strength.
Love takes hard work.
And sometimes…
Love takes sacrifice.
I remember thinking, feeling the only thing worse than being with Drew was being without him.
I still felt that way, but tonight showed me that was selfish. Really loving someone meant loving them more than yourself, and I did.
I loved Drew so much. I loved him more than I did myself.
So this was hard. Harder than anything I’d ever known in my entire life. I didn’t know if it was right, but it was all I had left to give. Drew already had my heart. My body would never want another. I would always love him.
My love was dangerous.
So I would have to love him from afar.
It seemed the only thing left to give him was safety. A promise to put him before myself. Always.
I would take a hundred beatings for the privilege of loving him. I would withstand ridicule, prejudice, and even hate to keep him at my side.
What I wouldn’t do was ask the same of him. I would not put him in danger for the sake of my heart. Or even his heart. The thought of anyone doing anything even close to this to Drew was more than I could bear.
Society talked a good talk. They passed laws and preached to anyone who would listen. They painted rainbows as if that symbol would somehow make everything okay.
Love is love.
People are free to be who they are.
Gay love is beautiful.
I wished it were that simple. Because even though as a whole, the world wants to accept the kind of love I feel, we weren’t there yet.
I almost felt like it was the same as putting an animal in the middle of the street and saying it would be safe. Maybe it would be for some drivers, but not all.
Did that mean I let them win?
Did that mean by pushing Drew away, the only ones who lost were us?
How did I make that distinction? How did I choose my happiness over his safety?
It wasn’t so cut and dry.
Sometimes love just isn’t enough.
“What are you saying, Trent?” Drew asked, wariness in his tone.
I pulled my arm from around his waist and brushed my knuckles across the side of his face.
I’m going to miss this scruff.
“I love you,” I vowed.
“You do?” He smiled.
“Yeah. I love you with everything I got.”
Ignoring the protest in my ribs, I leaned forward and claimed his lips. I kissed him soft at first, gentle and sweet. The kiss changed the second his tongue swept across my lower lip, like he was trying to soothe the swollen flesh.
My hand fisted at the back of his head, and we deepened the kiss. Drew hesitated at first, but I wouldn’t let him pull back. I wouldn’t let him worry about if it would hurt.
I was already hurting.
From far worse pain than a busted lip.
I devoured his mouth until he ripped it away.
“You’re bleeding again.” He swiped at my bottom lip with his thumb and lifted it between us. There was red marring his skin.
“I’m sorry,” I said, for more than just the blood.
Drew wiped his finger on his shirt and then wiped at my lip again, repeating the same action.
“I love you, too,” he whispered, and I knew it was true. I felt it.
“We’re gonna deal with those bastards at Omega.” He began. “Now that the family knows, you can move in here. Things will get easier—”
“No.” I cut him off.
He pulled back, wrinkles forming in the center of his forehead. “No?”
I shook my head. “I can’t do this.” I gestured between us. “Being together isn’t going to work.”
He leapt of the bed, an incredulous look in his eyes. “The fuck do you mean we aren’t going to work?”
Just say it.
“We can’t be together. I won’t be with you.”
He laughed, a half-crazed sound. “You just told me you love me.”