The Crying Game

Chapter Twenty

I think he knew what I was going through, but he didn't judge me or scorn me for showing my emotions for the man I used to love.

I felt terrible that I couldn't stay for everyone's departure, but I wasn't ready for any more goodbyes. I wasn't prepared to let go of the life I used to have, and yet, I was finally ready to embrace the life I had with Paul.

"If you want..." Paul said with hesitance, "we can go with them if we need to."

I looked up at him for a moment, then shaking my head and wiping my tears once again, "as much as I want to, I can't. I need to be away to move on. Besides, I can't ask you to leave your pack when I know how close you are to them. They're like your brothers."

"They'll understand Brandon." He held onto me.

I shook my head again, "I need to be here with you, Paul. I meant what I said when I told you that I would be here with you. I can't move forward with you if I keep going back."

"Are you sure?" He asked, concerned.

"Can we just go home, Paul?" I asked him.

He nodded, looking at Sam, receiving the same response from him as he led me back to Embry's truck.

When we arrived at his house, he led me up the stairs and into the house. I followed him to his room as he pulled me into his embrace, lifting me onto his bed as he laid next to me. I didn't mean to be so emotional, but I couldn't help it. I was balling my eyes out while Paul soothed me, his hand rubbing my back as we laid in his dark room. I could barely see anything other than his naked chest.

He was still in his cut-offs, and I was still in my clothes. I cried until I found myself too exhausted, forgetting the moment I fell asleep in Paul's embrace. It was bittersweet to be next to him, and I did feel guilty for falling apart in front of him.

The last thing I remembered before closing my eyes was the soft kiss he placed on my forehead. I knew then; this man really loves me.

I slept through the night, for once I couldn't remember the nightmares that used to haunt me. The room shed a little light through the dark curtains, giving off enough light for me to notice that I was alone in the room. The door was open, and I could hear music playing in the distance. The smell of bacon invaded my nostrils as I followed it down the hall and into the kitchen.

Paul was standing shirtless next to the stove with his back facing me. I sat at the stool next to the counter, fidgeting as he turned to see me. He gave me a concerned look before approaching me with a plate of food.

"Eat!" He ordered.

"Thanks," I muttered. "For everything."

"Your welcome."

We sat in silence as we ate. I wanted to say something, but I didn't know where to start. He didn't speak either, and I was sure that he thought that maybe I was just too fragile even to say a thing.

I looked up at him, realizing that his gaze was on me before looking away.

"What?" I asked shyly.

"Nothing," he finally smiled, "it's just good to see you smile again."

My smile disappeared for a moment before looking back at him. "I want to thank you for being there for me yesterday. I understand that it may have been hard for you to witness, and I'm sorry that you had to see it."

"I get it, Brandon." He reached over across the counter. "You needed closure, we all do. I'm not going to call you out because you have feelings. I just want you to know that I'm here to support you in every way that I can."