Too Late To Apologize

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"Can't say all the little things

That I wanna tell you right now

I know you won't understand

But I gotta tell you somehow."

- Broken English, ADAM LAMBERT

Sleep wasn't an option. Nate didn't even bother going to bed, but simply sat up in the recliner in the living room. The tv glowed, faces passed across the screen, sound emerged, but it was all a haze to Nate. His eyes rested distantly on the low burning flames in the fireplace. He'd never felt so sick in all his life and had, many times over the course of evening, had to physically resist the urge to vomit.

The thought of eating dinner only enhanced the nausea, though he hadn't eaten since...shit, since the jerky he'd had up at the cabin. Over twenty-four hours ago? He was certain at least part of his nausea was due to lack of food in his stomach, but there was no way anything would stay down now.

He shoved the chair further back and stretched out his legs on the elevated footrest. His eyes were heavy with the need to sleep, but when he closed them, all he saw was Kyle. And he knew if he did manage to fall asleep, he would dream about Kyle, about the cabin. The memories were bad enough, he didn't need to relive it all in detail as if he were there again.

Images of the letter in his night stand drawer hovered behind his eyes. Each time he thought of opening the envelope, his heart began to squeeze and hurt even more than it already did. And that was too much as it was. The cordless handset lay on the small table by the recliner. He turned his eyes from the fire to the phone. The need to call Kyle and apologize was so strong in him he could barely take it. And he didn't know why. Why should he apologize? Kyle was the one who had lied, who had betrayed him. What the fuck did Nate have to apologize for? Still, he felt like shit for the way he'd left things. But to call would only enlarge the wounds that were still bleeding.

A thick knot formed in his throat and he closed his eyes, struggling to swallow it. His eyes burned behind his closed lids and he resisted the tears as well. He was so fucking tired of crying over Kyle. His head throbbed from crying so damn much. His body ached from the force of the sobs that had been ripping through him all day and throughout the evening. He just wanted to sleep a peaceful, dreamless sleep. But he knew that was too much to hope for.

The heaviness of sleep and exhaustion hung on his eyelids like weights and he struggled against it, watching the flames, the tv screen, anything but letting his eyes close. He could feel Kyle waiting there just beyond the veil of sleep, ready to take him back up to the cabin, shower his love all over him, draw him back into the lie of that night.

Tell me you love me, Nate...I need to hear you say it out loud.

Nate clenched his jaw as the knot in his throat tightened and the tears burned hotter.

Just hold me. I want to fall asleep in your arms...just once...I want you to hold me while I sleep.

"Fuck." Nate bit tightly. Why couldn't he get Kyle's words, his voice out of his head? Was it his refusal to read Kyle's letter that kept the guy haunting his mind? His breath quickened and he kicked down the footrest of the recliner. "Fuck it!"

Nate shoved himself up out of the chair and left the living room with heated strides, walking down the hall to the bedroom. He jerked open the night stand drawer and grabbed the letter, ripping open the envelope before he could reconsider his decision. He dug out the letter and let the torn envelope fall to the floor as he unfolded the paper and stood, unmoving, his heart racing and head pounding as he began to read the words Kyle had left behind for him.

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