“You’re not trying to belittle it? A couple people say you’re not the best baker in the country. Boo-hoo. If this ends for me, I’m opening more credit cards, and Lucia’s God knows where. All you have at stake is your ego, and you’ve got enough of that to go around.”
“Tristan ...”
What kind of brother would he be if he put Lucia at risk for this relationship? He had to stay, no matter the cost. And maybe if Henry didn’t think that wasimportantenough, Tristan didn’t need him.
He shook his head, and almost couldn’t believe this was only a few hours after that heady exchange in the hotel room. Just like then, his emotions spilled past his lips. “I think... I want my own bed tonight.”
Henry stared slack-jawed. “Tristan, that’s ridiculous. We need to be together, work this out. We need a plan.”
“For fuck’s sake, no, Henry.” Tristan’s voice gruffed, sliding sharp out of his throat. “If you love me like you say you do, thenlistento me. I know you mean well, but you’re being self-centered. Make room for me... go sleep in your own bed. Please.”
Each step he took away from Henry ached in his middle, and he fought the tears prickling against the backs of his eyes. But no footsteps followed him into the lobby, into the elevator, down the hallway.
He flipped the swing bar closed once he got inside, slumped down, and clutched himself. This room of his—of theirs—was so large, so empty, so cold and quiet. So he filled the emptiness with sobs.
Henry sat down in the lobby of the hotel, clutching a cardboard coffee cup from the shop down the block. He hadn’t been able to sleep, still felt the claws of exhaustion ripping away at him even as the caffeine battled to keep him upright. But his empty bed, the lack of a warm body beside him, no gentle breath filtering through the space, they had been bigger distractions than anything that happened with Willa.
In his sleepless fugue, Henry had thought through dozens of possible solutions. He could murder Willa—that would sate his rage, at least, but it wouldn’t fix anything. He could knock on Tristan’s door and force him to get up, but that would doubly prove he was selfish.
And that wouldn’t have been an incorrect conclusion. After all, Henry had done everything for himself, and had ignored what Tristan needed. The emptiness and cold enveloping him now proved it. He’dneededTristan, and hadn’t stopped until he’d fulfilled his own desires. Not once had he considered what Tristan needed in return.
That selfishness wasn’t limited to the big picture, with Lucia and Tristan’s finances and how much Tristanactuallyneeded to stay around here. It had been present in every little interaction. Henry was the one who’d called on him out of the blue because he couldn’t stand being alone anymore. He was the one who had asked for the damn recipe. Hehadgrabbed Tristan’s hand because he’d wanted to touch him. And he knew he wasn’t keeping his mouth shut enough on set. He got too wrapped up and forgot himself too often.
Now not only had he blown up his own happiness... Tristan’shome, hisfamilywere at risk of implosion.
He fumbled out his phone, nearly dropping it in his daze. It was early, but hopefully not too early. He tapped Carrie’s name, and she picked up after one ring. “You’re up early.”
“Yeah. Couldn’t sleep.” It was good to hear her slightly guttural rasp again, even over the phone. Especially right now. “I may have screwed some shit up. By being selfish.”
“This isn’t Lance baggage again, is it? Because you know where I fall on that son of a bitch.”
“It’s not Lance this time. But I think I majorly fucked up, Carrie.”
And he launched into the whole sordid story. Well, not thewholestory. He left out the parts that were private to Tristan, only mentioning thatheneeded the money and Henry flat out didn’t.
When he’d finished, Carrie sighed. “Sounds like you messed up.”
A cold shock spiked down his middle. “You’re not going to disagree and try to boost my spirits, here?”
“I love you more than fucking life, Henry. And you’re not some ass-bag waste of skin like this Willa lady—I’ll happily put the smackdown on a grandma if that’s what you need me to do to her, by the way. But you’re right. You screwed up this time. You don’t need to dwell on it, though.”
“I’m just supposed to move on? Like that wouldn’t be selfish too?”
“No. You’re supposed to make it right. If you’re this crazy over Tristan, try to fix it. Then if he doesn’t want to get back into that business, at least you’ll know you owned up to your shit.”
It made sense, even if it sucked to not get reassurance. “I wouldn’t forgive me.”
“Yeah, well, you hold yourself to impossible standards. Maybe he won’t be so exacting.” She yawned. “Listen, got a big day at the office. I need to jump my happy ass in the shower. You want to come in with me, or are you good?”
“You know I’d always shower with you, but I think I’m okay.” As okay as he could be, anyway. “Thanks for being around.”
“Anytime, sweet cheeks. You call anytime you need to. And I don’t want to say to hurry home, but I can’t wait until I can see your face again.”
In spite of everything, Henry couldn’t help a tiny smile. “You too, hon.”
He hung up and sighed. Hedidwant to try to correct the situation with Tristan, whatever that looked like. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have ideas. A night of not sleeping had left a lot of time for overthinking.
Henry doubted either Willa or Tristan had awoken. So he’d wait, ready to catch whoever showed up first. His plans were all half-baked, but he wasn’t about to wait around for things to get any worse. So he sat, keeping his eyes peeled.
