Chapter 24
twenty-four
. . .
Marco
The bedroom door closed behind Wick with a soft click, leaving Meghan and I alone in the suddenly too-quiet living room. She turned to face me and blew out a breath. “Well, that was...intense.”
I ran a hand through my hair, my earlier elation at quitting my soul-sucking job evaporating. “You could say that again.” I collapsed onto the couch. Meghan sat down beside me, tucking her legs under her. She reached for my hand, lacing our fingers together.
“That was intense,” she repeated, smiling sheepishly as she tried and failed for levity. “There should be a manual for this. Think there’s a wikiHow on polyamory?”
“We could ask ChatGPT.”
“That might not be a bad idea. It could be like a relationship counselor for the poly-dumb.”
“I don’t feel like we did anything wrong .”
“Neither do I.”
“But should we feel bad that we don’t feel bad? ”
“No,” she said. “We shouldn’t. He’ll come around. He just needs some time to process everything.”
I wanted to believe her. But an insidious voice in the back of my head whispered that I was fooling myself. That I could never be enough for them. That they didn’t need me.
“I’m not gay, Marco. How many times do I have to tell you?” David said. His blond hair was disheveled, his green eyes rimmed with red—he’d been crying again. "This was just an experiment. A phase. But it’s over now."
My heart shattered. We’d been so careful, never leaving my dingy apartment together, never even holding hands on campus. Being openly bisexual was risky enough, but David was paralyzed by the fear that his family would disown him if he came out as gay.
“David, please, don’t do this.” Rain lashed against the windows as thunder rumbled ominously outside.
He shook his head violently. “No. This isn’t me.” He stared me down, masking his self-loathing with disgust—disgust for me. “I’m not a fucking homo like you.”
The words hit like a physical blow. I wanted to argue, to fight for him, for us. But his mind was made up. He was too mired in denial and shame. And, apparently, I wasn’t enough to risk coming out of the closet. Even after six months together, he didn’t need me.
“ Got it. Get the fuck out, then.”
I stared at the closed bedroom door, that old, familiar fear rising up to choke me .
Meghan’s hand tightened on mine. “Marco? Where’d you go just now?”
I blinked, forcing myself back to the present. The penthouse suddenly felt claustrophobic, like the walls were closing in on me. “Nowhere good. Just...old ghosts, I guess.”
Meghan’s brow wrinkled. “This is about more than just what happened with Wick, isn’t it? There’s something else going on with you.”
I wanted to brush off her concern with a joke or a flirtatious quip. But something in her expression made the words stick in my throat. “I’m scared, Meg,” I confessed. “Scared that I’m going to fuck this up, just like I’ve fucked up every other relationship I’ve ever had. Scared that one day you and Wick will wake up and realize that you don’t need me here.”
Meghan’s grip on my hand increased to the point of pain. “Is that really what you think?”
I shrugged, avoiding her eye. “Can you blame me? You two have this whole history, this deep connection that I can’t even begin to touch. You immediately knew what was eating at him, and I just stood there like an idiot who had no clue what was happening in his own damn relationship. Let’s be real, Meg. I’m the fuck-up in this equation. The one who’s going to screw it all up sooner or later.”
Meghan shook her head fiercely, her free hand coming up to cup my cheek. “You listen to me, Marco Rossi. You are not a fuck-up. You are an essential, irreplaceable part of this relationship, and Wick and I are damn lucky to have you.”
Her thumb swept over my cheekbone, catching the single tear that had escaped my lashes. “I know you’ve been hurt before. You’ve had people make you feel like you weren’t good enough or that you were just a temporary distraction. But that’s not what this is, Marco. That’s not what you are to us.”
I leaned into her touch, my eyes drifting shut as I let her words wash over me. “I want to believe that, Meg. But it’s hard for me to trust it, to trust that this is real and lasting. Especially when I see how easily you and Wick just...fit.”
Meghan sighed and rested her forehead against mine. “I’m not going to lie and say it’s always going to be easy. This kind of relationship takes work and communication and a lot of emotional heavy lifting. But Marco, I promise you, Wick and I are in this for the long haul. We’re not going anywhere, not without you.”
She pulled back, pinning me with the intensity of her stare. “And as for me and Wick, yes, we have history. Our connection goes way back. But that doesn’t make what you and I have any less real or important. And it sure as hell doesn’t make what’s growing between you and Wick any less significant.”
I huffed out a shaky laugh, a small smile twitching at my lips despite myself. “Oh yeah? And what exactly is growing between me and Wick, aside from the obvious sexual tension?”
“Aside from the obvious? A lot of stubborn male posturing and emotionally constipated pining, if you ask me.”
I snorted, shoving her shoulder playfully. “Gee, thanks for that stellar analysis, Dr. Phil.”
“Anytime, babe. But seriously, Marco. You and Wick, I see the way you look at each other. The way you gravitate towards each other, even when you’re pushing each other’s buttons. There’s something real there. If you’re both brave enough to reach for it.”
My heart did a weird little flip in my chest. “And you’d be okay with that? With me and Wick...exploring? ”
Meghan’s smiled, her eyes going warm and liquid. “More than okay, Marco. I know what I signed up for.”
I threw another glance at the closed door. “Clearly Dick Wick in there doesn’t.”
“Clearly.” Meghan laughed and something inside me eased. “Now, what do you say we order in some food and watch trashy reality TV until our brains leak out our ears?”
“Only if we can get the ridiculously overpriced sushi from that place on High Street,” I said, mustering up a grin. “If we’re going to rot our brains, we might as well do it in style.”