I exhaled slowly, and Cara rubbed her hand along my back, soothing me as she cuddled close.
“Copy me,” Roe instructed as he loosened my tie a fraction and sucked in a long, slow breath.
I did the same and followed his lead as he breathed out again.
“Are you okay?” Cara asked quietly after a moment of inhales and exhales.
I nodded and answered Grant, who’d been waiting patiently for me to pull my shit together. “I can’t give you the details, Grant. I’m not somewhere private where we can talk, and I promised them. I won’t break that promise.”
“Alec, don’t you think….” Cara sighed. “Never mind. I’d do the same thing.”
“I need to call you back, Grant.” I hung up and brought Cara’s hand to my lips, kissing her knuckles.
Her smile was sad when she brushed her thumb over my knuckles, showing me without words that she was here for me. Roe eyed me warily, but I knew it was concern for me clouding his thoughts. He was worried about me, about how this would affect me, not about what I’d do.
“I need to have a chat with Minns.”
Monroe rocked back on his heels and stood up, then stepped back, giving me space to walk away from them. I didn’t want to waste a single moment with them—I had such limited time left—but this couldn’t wait.
There were eyes on me, half the team as well as Lebedev and Sawchuck watching as I wound through the waiting area to where Minns and Mironov were sitting. Some were eying what was unfolding before them discreetly while others were outright staring. Hockey players—queens of gossip.
I ignored all of them.
“Minns, a word,” I commanded.
He got to his feet slowly without protesting and moved like an old man, shuffling behind me as I weighed up where we could get a modicum of privacy.
But there was nowhere in the airy expanse of the charter lounge except the bathrooms, so I led him there. I checked that the stalls were empty, then I flicked the lock into place. I rounded on him, the last tether of my restraint snapping.
“What the fuck?” I demanded in a harsh whisper. “Why? Why don’t you just take Kam away for a vacation and reconnect that way? Why are you doing this?”
He met my gaze, and his struggle hit me square in the chest. He looked exhausted, like he’d aged a decade in the few weeks we’d been here. His shoulders were slumped and his back bowed. I ached seeing him like that, not because I missed him or even wanted to ease his burden, but because I was human, and queer too. I knew his struggle. I knew his fear and his innate need to protect himself.
“Because I can’t keep lying to myself anymore,” he admitted and collapsed back against the tiled wall. “I love Kam with all my heart, but I can’t go on like this. I’m not enough for her. She deserves better.”
I tilted my head, processing his words. But I couldn’t reconcile them with the woman I knew. “Has she told you that?”
“No,” he mumbled, turning away from me.
Kamirah loved Minns. He was her whole world. She’d confided in me more than once that no matter who they took into their bed, he was the last person she wanted to see before she closed her eyes and who she wanted to wake up with in the morning. I should have listened harder to the way she less than subtly told me to curb my wayward feelings. I sighed, then asked, “Don’t you think you should ask her how she feels?”
“I know how she feels, damn it,” he shot back, a fragile rage building inside him. He dragged his shaking hands through his hair, then tugged his tie away from his throat. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he growled, the sound more of a pained cry than from anger. “She’s fucking pissed that I didn’t stand up for you, that I didn’t say anything to clear up the reports. And she’s pissed that I made her out to be the villain when it was you and I that night.”
“She’s not the only one.” I crossed my arms over my chest and stared him down, but he wouldn’t meet my gaze. “You hurt me, and you’re about to do it again. My agent wants to prepare a press release for when you go on the assistance program, telling the truth about what happened.”
He snapped up his face and looked at me with wide, terrified eyes. His mouth popped open, and his breath hitched. A bead of sweat ran down his face, along his temple, and down his cheek, dripping onto his dark suit jacket with a tiny splash.
“I told him no,” I reassured him, hating that I still wanted to protect his secret. “But people are going to draw their own conclusions—you’re struggling with your mental health because I fucking ruined your marriage. That’s not fair to everyone who is actually struggling—”
“Iamfucking struggling,” he exploded, throwing his hands up before he paced the room, spinning on his heel after a few short steps. The click of his dress shoes echoed in the otherwise silent space. “I’m this close—” He squeezed his thumb and forefinger together. “—to losing my shit. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I don’t recognize myself in the mirror. You’ve gone and found yourself a cute little bunny, and I’ve been wearing holes in the carpet because of the pacing—”
“I wasn’t the one who threw you away,” I shouted, pointing at him. “I didn’t let people think the worst of you—someone I’d been intimate with for nearly two fucking years—to protect myself.”
I clenched my jaw until my teeth ached and forced myself to stop talking. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t see the pain reflected there because it was so close to my own that I knew I’d break. I turned away from him and braced my hands against the wall, holding myself up with them. I slowed my breathing until I could no longer hear my heartbeat and prayed for a way out ofthis mess that didn’t involve the inevitable crash and burn that I’d already suffered.
“I know,” he breathed, his tone filled with melancholy and resignation. I shot a disbelieving glance his way, and he sighed. “I know.”
“But you’re going to do it all again, and fuck whatever happens to good ol’ Hux, because he’ll just bounce on someone else’s cock instead,” I seethed, my derision at myself leeching through my words.
