Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Theo
I stood at the front gate. I had no idea if Cameron was in the flat.
Where else would he be? He’s staying with me because he had nowhere else to go.
I needed to grow a pair, get my arse up those stairs, and put this right. Which pretty much summed up Max’s final words as I’d left him that morning.
Moving from my spot was the hard part. My first instinct was still flight.
Turn around now. Don’t ruin this again.
My chest was tight, my breathing shallow, and my heart was pounding.
I walked up the tiled path, opened the front door, and climbed the stairs. At the top, I went to use my key, then thought against it.
I knocked.
When there was no immediate response, my heart sank. He’s out. Then the door opened and Cameron stood there in an old jumper, joggers, and socks. His expression was guarded.
I’d expected him to be cold.
“Hi.” It was all I could manage.
Cameron gave a single nod. “Hi.”
Fuck, the space between us felt vast.
I didn’t step inside. “I don’t want to barge in. If you don’t want to talk, I’ll go.”
He studied me for a long moment, his eyes moving over my face as if he was checking for fractures, for signs of retreat. Then he stepped back and opened the door wider.
“Come in.”
I shuddered out a sigh of relief and went inside. I set my bag down by the door, then straightened with deliberate care, keeping my hands visible at my sides, as though sudden movement might cause the whole thing to collapse.
“I’m not here to explain,” I blurted before Cameron could speak. “Or justify what I did. Or even fix it.”
Cameron folded his arms loosely. “That’s new.”
The silence between us weighed heavily.
“I left because I was scared, not because you did anything wrong.”
Cameron’s jaw tightened a fraction.
“I told myself I was protecting you,” I continued, the words sounding raw. “But I wasn’t. I was protecting myself, from being wanted.”
Cameron looked away, his gaze focused on the window as if that was safer than looking at me. “You didn’t give me a choice.”
I flinched. “You’re right.” I had no defence. “I decided for you, that you’d be better off without me. And that was unfair. And arrogant.” My voice cracked. “Not to mention cowardly.”
Cameron’s voice was quiet and flat. “It hurt.”
My throat burned. “I know.” I took another breath, not to steady myself but to stop
from reaching too far, from asking for too much. “I don’t want to promise you I’ll never get scared again. That’s just stupid, because I know I will. That’s not going to vanish overnight.”
Cameron turned to face me. “Then why are you here?”
I met his forthright gaze. “Because I don’t want to run when it happens. I want to stay. Even when I’m terrified. Especially then.”
Cameron’s arms loosened slightly, but he didn’t unfold them. “And what if I can’t just…” He swallowed. “Pick up where we left off? What if I don’t trust you yet?”
I nodded without hesitation. “Then I wait.”
Cameron blinked. “You’ll… wait.”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“As long as it takes.” I didn’t break eye contact. “Or until you tell me not to.”
Something fragile hummed in the room, the possibility of hope.
“I thought you’d come back with a speech,” Cameron said in a low voice.
I huffed out a breath that was almost a laugh. “Max advised against it.”
Cameron’s lips twitched before his expression sobered. “I need to know something. If this gets hard again… will you disappear?”
Iron hands tightened around my chest.
“No. I might freeze. I might shut down for a minute. But I won’t leave without talking to you. Ever again.” I poured my heart and soul into those final words.
Cameron searched my face.
“You don’t have to forgive me,” I added softly. “You don’t have to choose me. I just needed you to know that I’m choosing you, even if you don’t choose me back.”
The words sat between us, raw and filled with hope.
Cameron bit his lip. “You’re an idiot, do you know that?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“But you came back.”
“Yes.”
Another pause that made my heartbeat race.
Then Cameron took one step forward, closing part of the distance.
“I’m not ready to pretend that didn’t hurt. But I don’t want you gone.”
I shuddered out a breath, sharp and unsteady. “Okay. That’s enough. That’s more than enough.”
Cameron hesitated, then reached out, his fingers brushing my wrist, the touch light, testing.
I looked him in the eye. “I’m not going anywhere.” His words, from the first time we—
The first time we made love. Tell it like it is.
He exhaled, his shoulders dropping. “Good. Because I don’t want to do this alone.”
I stepped closer, still not touching, still careful. “You won’t. I promise.”
Cameron regarded me with eyes that held more warmth. “We’ll take it slow. On my terms,” he added.
I nodded. “On yours.”
His hand tightened briefly around my wrist, and the contact reassured me.
“Okay.” Cameron’s voice came out firm.
Oh my God.
I hadn’t fixed it, but the air felt calmer.
“You look tired,” he remarked.
I grimaced. “I didn’t get much sleep. And I don’t care what Max says, that couch of his is nowhere near as comfy as mine.”
“Then go to bed. I might be doing the same.” He gestured to the couch. “I couldn’t sleep either.”
The fact he didn’t suggest joining me told me we weren’t out of the woods yet.
I can wait. As long as it takes for him to realise I won’t hurt him like that ever again.
Cameron
I hadn’t planned to fall asleep.
Theo had been wrung out. I watched him from the doorway as he collapsed onto the bed, his face turned into the pillow, his breathing uneven but deepening fast.
Out like a light.
I stood there for a long moment, my hand on the doorframe, listening to Theo breathe. The instinct to crawl in beside him was strong, but that wasn’t what Theo needed right now. Closeness might turn into expectation.
Slow. On my terms.
I’d meant it.
I closed the door gently and went back to the living room where I curled up on the couch with a blanket pulled to my chest. It felt strange, choosing distance when all I wanted was closeness, but it also felt powerful.
Theo came back. And while he was clearly scared, he hadn’t tried fixing the situation.
But he’s here. He is trying.
That mattered.
I stared at the ceiling, replaying the moment Theo had said I’m not going anywhere and actually sounded as though he believed it. The way his hand had trembled a little before it steadied. The way he hadn’t reached out too fast.
Theo was learning.
I could give him the space to do that.
My eyes grew heavy, exhaustion finally catching up with me too. The emotional whiplash of the last twenty-four hours had left me wrung out and tender, but underneath it was something steadier now, a fragile optimism I was guarding carefully.
He didn’t run forever, I thought as sleep took me. He came back.
That was enough.
I drifted off with the low hum of the city outside and the quiet comfort of knowing Theo was in the next room, not perfect, not healed, but choosing to stay.
The doorbell’s buzz shattered the quiet and woke me from my doze.
I blinked, sat up, then went over to press the intercom. “Hello?”
“Cam? It’s Gary.”
My heart jumped into my throat.
Whatever calm we’d carved out was about to be tested. Because I wasn’t sure I could speak to Gary and resist the urge to lash out at him.
I pressed the button, then opened the door. Gary climbed the stairs slowly, and my first impression was that he looked as tired as I felt.
Good.
“Don’t slam the door in my face,” Gary said in a low voice when he reached the top step.
The thought had tempted me.
Gary stood there on the doormat, looking as if he didn’t quite know what to do with his hands, his shoulders hunched, his eyes rimmed red.
He looked wrecked.
I stepped out instead of letting him in, pulling the door closed behind me with careful precision. I folded my arms across my chest. “Say whatever you’ve come here to say, then leave me alone.”
Gary swallowed hard. “Cam…” His voice cracked. “I’m sorry.”
I blinked. I’d expected anger, defensiveness, a speech about power and responsibility similar to the one he’d clearly given Theo.
“I told myself Theo had crossed a line,” Gary went on. “That the painting was wrong. That your relationship was wrong.” His jaw tightened. “That something had to be wrong, because otherwise that would mean admitting I hurt you without ever asking what you felt.”
My chest tightened.
“I spent last night in a Premier Inn near Euston station. This morning, I went to get the train back to Manchester. But about five minutes before it was due to leave, something started eating at me.” His voice was rough.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about what I didn’t see.
What I didn’t ask. I didn’t hear your voice.
I didn’t look at your face. I just… decided.
” He shook his head. “I realised I’d built the whole argument without you in it. ” His face contorted.
I swallowed. Whatever anger Gary had felt, it was as if he’d turned it inwards.
“And then I thought about Theo,” Gary continued. “About his face when I said Luka’s name.” His voice broke.
I gaped at him. “Why would you bring him into this?” No wonder Theo had broken. I narrowed my gaze. “I might not know much about their relationship, but even I know that was a low fucking blow.”
I’d never spoken to Gary like that in my life, but fuck it, he needed to understand what he’d done.
He winced, and I knew my blow had found its target.
“I realise how much that must’ve hurt him. How much I’ve hurt both of you.”
Silence pressed in around us, the bulb above us painting Gary’s face in stark light, deepening the shadows.
“I wasn’t protecting you,” Gary said at last. “I was protecting the version of you I still carry around in my head.”
I clenched my jaw.
“I keep thinking of you at sixteen,” he said quietly. “Awkward, looking at the world as though it might bruise you if it breathed wrong.” A bitter huff of laughter. “I forgot you grew up.”
“You didn’t ask me what I wanted.” My voice came out steadier than I would’ve believed possible, given the circumstances.
Gary flinched. “No. I didn’t.”
A beat.
“Or how I feel about him.” I wasn’t going to tell him. Theo deserved to be the first to hear that confession.
Gary nodded, his face pained. “I’ve known for years that you worshipped him. I just didn’t want it to be real.” His mouth twisted. “Because real meant I couldn’t protect you from it.”
I softened my voice. “I don’t need protecting.” Then I remembered. “You left me a voicemail.”
Gary froze.
“I listened to it after Theo disappeared,” I continued, struggling to keep my voice even. “You told me you’d spoken to him. That you’d told him to stay away from me.”
Gary’s face drained of colour.
“You said you were doing it because you cared. You said I should be careful. As if I didn’t know my own mind.”
Gary swallowed hard. “I thought—”
“I know what you thought,” I cut in. “That you were protecting me. But that message?” I exhaled slowly. “That message arrived after he’d already walked out the door.”
Gary flinched as though I’d struck him.
“So when I came home,” I went on, “I had an empty flat, three lines of apology, and your voice in my ear explaining why the man I… I care about thought he was doing the right thing by leaving me.”
Gary’s breathing hitched.
“I didn’t hear concern in that voicemail,” I said in a low voice. “I heard fear—yours.”
His jaw tightened. “I never meant to push him away.”
“I know. But intent doesn’t undo impact.” The maturity in those words took me by surprise.
Heartache makes you grow up fast, apparently.
Gary closed his eyes. When he opened them, they glistened. “I took your choice away.”
“Yes,” I said simply. Another beat. “And I took his.”
His shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry.”
I took a moment to breathe.
“I don’t need you to like what I choose.” I looked him in the eye. “But I do need you to respect that it is my choice. And his.”
Gary met my gaze, and it was as if something in him finally gave way. “I do,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I promise.”
I watched him for a second longer, then stepped aside and opened the door.
“He’s inside. And he’s still hurting.”
“So am I.”
“Then don’t make it worse.” I heard the steel in my own words.
Gary swallowed. “I won’t.” He went inside, then stiffened, and I knew without seeing that Theo was awake.
He stood in the living room, his arms at his sides.
Gary walked over to him. “Theo, I owe you an apology.” His voice shook.
Theo didn’t move.
“I was angry because I was scared,” Gary continued. “Not of you—never of you—but of losing my brother. And I let that fear turn into accusation.”
Theo clenched his jaw.
“You’re not Luka,” Gary said. “And I should never—never—have put you in the same sentence as him.”
Theo flinched, but he didn’t look away.
“I trust you,” Gary said quietly. “I’ve trusted you for over a decade. I forgot that for a moment, and I hurt you because of it.”
Theo swallowed hard. “Why did you come back? Why now?”
Gary looked between us. “Because I finally understood something.” He took a breath.
“You choosing each other doesn’t mean I’m losing Cam.” His voice steadied. “It means he’s gaining someone who loves him as fiercely as I do.”
My eyes burned.
Theo said nothing for a long moment, then expelled a breath. “Thank you.”
Gary nodded. He turned to me, closed the gap between us, and wrapped me in a hug so tight he squeezed a startled sound out of me.
“Still my little brother,” Gary murmured. “Just… not so little.” Then he turned to Theo and hesitated before holding out his hand.
Theo looked at it for a long second, then took it.
Okay, it wasn’t a hug, and maybe we hadn’t finished forgiving him yet, but it was a start.