Chapter 37
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
Trent lay in bed, eyes closed, body warm and soft. He wriggled in the blankets.
“Are you hungry?” Malachi asked.
“Not at the moment.” Although, truthfully, Trent just didn’t want to rise from the bed. So tea would do for now.
Trent opened his eyes. Malachi held two cups of steaming tea. He remained completely naked, gorgeous blue skin on display. The orange and gold from the flames danced on Malachi’s long and lean body. His tentacles hung at his back.
Trent snuggled deeper beneath the sheet. He wanted a lifetime of nights just like this.
Did Malachi?
A shiver ran down his spine. The pestering thoughts that had been kept at bay for a few blissful moments trickled back in, filling his head until no other thoughts remained. The warmth in his limbs seeped from his body, leaving him cold.
Earlier, whilst Malachi had been fucking him, Trent had almost blurted out that he loved Malachi. What would Malachi have said to that?
Malachi walked towards him. He perched on the edge of the bed. “Here you are.” He handed Trent a cup.
Trent sat up. The sheet slid down his shoulder, and goosebumps broke out on his skin. He sipped his tea. But the warmth of the liquid did little to chase away his sudden chill. And the herbal blend didn’t do anything to soothe the knot that had tangled in his chest.
Trent stared at the steam rising from his cup. Hope warred with defeat inside him. He closed his eyes, trying to get a handle on himself.
Do I even have a chance with Malachi? That’s all I want. A small chance.
He didn’t need Malachi to love him today. Or tomorrow. Or next week.
Trent could wait. For Malachi he could wait. But what if he waited the rest of his life and it still wasn’t enough time for Malachi to return his feelings?
Malachi lifted his cup towards his lips.
“Could you ever fall in love again?” Trent blurted.
Malachi froze, cup almost at his lips. “What?” He lowered the cup.
“I know you lost your mate. And I know… I know all the things you told me.” Trent tried to keep his voice level. “But given enough time, do you think you could fall in love again?” Trent searched Malachi’s eyes.
“And I know you said this is friendship with fucking.” Trent’s breath came too fast. The hopes, the yearnings, the dreams, and the wants rose inside him, almost choking him. “But do you think you could ever love me? Not straightaway, of course. But in time. Because I can wait. I can wait for you.”
A heavy silence followed.
Malachi stared at Trent, mouth agape. “I…”
Trent held his breath. His hands shook.
“You are a wonderful person, Trent.” Malachi lowered his gaze. “You are kind and caring. You are generous. Having you in my life has been a true blessing. I have valued your friendship so much these past couple of weeks.”
“Those are sweet words,” Trent said softly. “But that doesn’t answer my question. Do you think you could ever love me?”
Malachi opened his mouth. He closed it. He looked away.
That is my answer.
A tear slipped free and slid down Trent’s cheek.
He brushed it angrily away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.
You were clear from the start what you wanted.
You lost your mate and are not capable of anything other than friendship.
Of course nothing has changed.” He placed the teacup on the floor.
“I should go.” Trent crawled from beneath the sheets, cursing his nudity.
He grabbed at his clothes, tugging them on with fumbling hands.
Now that the first teardrop had escaped, the others joined in, flowing down his cheeks.
He gritted his teeth, trying to will them away as he pulled on his trousers.
“I’m sure there is someone more suited for you, Trent.” Malachi rose. “Someone less wounded.”
Trent pulled on his shirt.
Malachi took a step towards him. “And you don’t want an old, grieving, loner like me. You could do so much better than—”
“I love you!” Trent’s head snapped up as the words flung from his mouth. “I love you, Malachi. I love you, and I want to be with you.”
Trent gestured to the room. “This is what I want.” The tears fell like rain. “I want to drink tea and eat cake by the fire with you. I want to make wreaths and garlands and talk about our days.”
Trent took a step towards him. Malachi shrank back.
“I want to fall asleep in the embrace of your arms and tentacles. I want a life by your side. And I want you to love me.” Trent’s voice broke.
A strangled noise escaped Malachi. But he didn’t move, just stared at Trent.
But Trent kept talking. Now that he’d started, he couldn’t seem to stop. “I love you, Malachi. I don’t give a shit about anyone better. Because I want you. I want the siren I fell in love with.”
And despite having seen no sign that Malachi might change, Trent had to ask once more. “Do you think in time you could ever love me? Even just a little?”
Pain lined Malachi’s face. He didn’t speak. The silence stretched out.
Because Malachi didn’t love Trent. And he never could.
Trent looked away. “Sorry. I’m sorry. This is my fault. Entirely my fault.” Trent finished dressing. “I need to go.” He had to leave. He couldn’t stay.
This is over.
A sob rose in his throat, and he snapped his mouth shut, trying to stop it from escaping. He wiped at his tears as the reality of the situation settled over him.
This was over. They were over. Their friendship was done. He had to leave. And he couldn’t come back. He’d destroyed their friendship with his declaration of love and his desperate pleading.
Now he just had to leave.
But instead he stood, staring at the floor.
I don’t want to go. I don’t want this to be over.
He walked over to Kelby’s terrarium. He stared down at Kelby. She stared up at him.
“Bye, Kelby,” he whispered. “I’ll miss you.” Because he supposed he’d never see her again either. Trent took a deep, painful breath. His ribs squeezed.
Now he just had to say goodbye to Malachi. He wanted to flee. But if he didn’t look back, he wouldn’t get one last look at the siren.
Slowly, Trent turned.
Malachi’s face twisted with pain. He sucked in a breath, taking in Trent’s tear-stained cheeks. “Trent.” He stepped forward and reached out his hand. Then he seemed to think better of it and halted, dropping his hand. “I’m so sorry.”
But Trent didn’t want Malachi to be sorry. He wanted Malachi to love him.
“It’s not your fault. You told me. You were honest. I’m the one who fucked up. I just had to go and fall in love with you.” Trent let out a sniffly laugh. He wiped his wet cheeks.
He took in Malachi’s long naked limbs, his tentacles, and his pained expression. Trent wished his last memory of Malachi would be of him smiling. But that was just one more disappointment from this night. And honestly it was rather a minor one in comparison to the others.
“Bye, Malachi.” Then Trent turned and left.