“Stop. Start again, by putting some of this on my shoulders.”
“You’re in a hospital bed, Tate. I think your shoulders have taken enough.”
“My shoulders are fine. Come on. Just gimme one thing you wish I’d done differently.”
It was hard to consider, with him looking at her like that. He had turned onto his side, even though she was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to do that. And she could see where the skin had split around his jaw—those paper butterflies were lined up in a curling row over the red.
Plus he was stroking her knuckles now.
How was she was supposed to keep putting it on him, in light of that?
She had to glance away, just to get anywhere close.
“Why didn’t you explain when I found all that stuff?”
“That’s good. That’s better. I don’t have an answer for you, but it’s better.”
“There must have been some reason you just stood there and took me yelling at you. I mean, later I could understand, because I basically deleted you from my life. But you had me right there and…nothing.”
“Honestly? I didn’t feel like there was anything I could say. That first email is fucked up. It’s like everything that was wrong with me before I started to get my shit together. And then there was that fucking video…why the fuck did I keep that fucking video? I knew as soon as I saw I’d somehow recorded us that I should have just fucking deleted it. It was so weird that I kept it. It felt weird, like being one of those guys who secretly puts their girlfriends on porn sites. But I just…I don’t know you were so pretty and you looked like you loved me so much I…I’m making excuses again.”
She squeezed his hand tightly for that.
To reassure him, the way he always reassured her.
“As excuses go, ‘I wanted to keep evidence that you loved me’ is pretty good.”
“But the rest is kind of creepy though, right?”
“I don’t think creepy would be the word I would use.”
“Stupid, then.”
“No.”
“Crazy?”
“Not even close. I was thinking more…heartbreaking. All of this is really, really heartbreaking. And it just gets more heartbreaking the deeper in I go. Like, I thought you smelled of my perfume for no reason at all, but now I’m thinking otherwise.”
She didn’t know how to feel when his expression turned sheepish.
Thrilled, that she was right.
Sad, that it had taken him so long to say.
“That was kind of an accident. Some girl sprayed it on me in a mall and I just thought it was nice and it gave me a good feeling so I bought some. Then I got close to you in the library and realized that I’m a fucking dumbass who basically has no clue why he does anything ever.”
“Would it help if I said that I like you being a fucking dumbass?”
“It definitely wouldn’t hurt.”
“I like you being a fucking dumbass. I like that you don’t know why you do things.”
“Even though it’s responsible for ninety percent of the fucked-up shit we’ve been through.”
“And the other ten percent?”
“Is me knowingly making terrible decisions, like asking Harrison to put us together. I mean, I knew why I did that. I get that it was terrible. It’s just that I went ahead and fucking did it anyway.”
“I think we’ve established that it wasn’t so terrible,” she said.
But he wouldn’t accept it. He sighed and looked down at their joined hands.
“Yeah, it was. I didn’t stick to the plan, which was to basically make sure you were happy. It wasn’t force Letty into a partnership that makes her even more frightened than she already is. I should have just backed off and waited for my moment to help you. Beat up guys who were dogging you or—”
“Beating up guys who are dogging me sounds terrible, Tate. It was bad enough that you punched your buddy—who by the way is responsible for you not being killed by mobsters.”
“They weren’t going to kill me, Letty. People notice when mobsters murder wrestling stars who they just recently tried to draft into an illegal gambling ring.”
“Well even so, my point stands. Working with me on a project was a great idea. It did make me happy, Tate. It made me happier than I’ve ever been.”
“Doesn’t change how selfish it was. I just…wanted to hang out with you.”
“If you’re waiting for me to fault you for that, you’re going to be here a long time, babe.”
He looked up at that, in a way that reminded her of something.
And then she remembered: it was what she used to do, to stop herself crying in front of him.
“I love you. Do you know that?”
“I don’t see how I could possibly not. You’ve told me in every conceivable way.”
“I’m gonna keep telling you, every day and all the time and always. And I have time now to do it. I got five hundred thousand dollars in my back pocket and nowhere else I need to be.”