Bryce’s shoulders lifted in a silent breath.

I knew, but I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to do this now, not yet. “The door is shut. The door was open a few seconds ago.” An anchor dropped to the bottom of my stomach.

“It’s time.” He didn’t sound happy about it.

I knew what had happened. Replaying everything in my head, I knew what I had thought and waking up with my hand in Corrigan’s—I grimaced as I asked, “Did I say something?”

He nodded, looking down at the floor for a moment. Then he spoke, his voice gruff, “You called out for him a bunch.”

“I didn’t—”

He confirmed my fear. “You told him you loved him.”

Oh. Fuck. Horror filled my limbs, paralyzing them for a moment. I hadn’t wanted that. Not ever. My throat swelled from emotion and I whispered, “I’m so sorry, Bryce.”

He lifted a shoulder, but he couldn’t hide the agony. “Yeah, well . . .” He couldn’t finish the sentence. Then he cleared his throat and said, raspy, “What can I say? I mean . . .” He let out a loud sigh and turned away. I saw his jaw trembling; he was fighting to control his emotions. “I get it, Sheldon. I do. I—fuck. There’s no easy way to do this, right?”

“Yeah,” I bit out. “If a crazy person hadn’t attacked me, then I wouldn’t have been high on drugs or whatever, and I wouldn’t have blurted that out.” I grew quiet. I hadn’t known. Not really. I didn’t know until I thought I was going to die. That was when I knew. Corrigan was the one.

I felt tears on my cheeks. Goddamn. I was crying again.

“I’m sorry, Sheldon.”

“For what?”

“For not being the guy you wanted.”

Another wave of sadness rolled over me. “Bryce,” I started to say.

He shook his head, stopping me. “We went wrong. I don’t know where, exactly, but maybe I should’ve pushed harder for you. I don’t know. I lost you when I left for soccer. I keep trying to blame Marcus and what we did. Because that means it’s not my fault. That I didn’t do anything wrong. You know, the whole thing about what we did and how you didn’t want to deal with it so all those emotions you have about that moment got swept up with us, you and me. All of it got locked away in you, but it’s not true.”

I was crying. I wasn’t even going to try to stop. So I just let the tears fall.

“I lost you when I left, didn’t I? When I went to Europe for soccer. That’s when it happened. I left you then.”

I whispered, “I followed you.”

He shook his head. The pain was radiating off him. I felt it. It was choking me at the same time, and my god, I didn’t want this to be said. I didn’t want to choose. It wasn’t—how could I love two men? How . . . I couldn’t push past the pain. It was suffocating me.

“I’m so sorry, Bryce.” That was all I could say. “I’m so sorry.”

“I should’ve waited a year.” He spoke as if he were speaking to himself. “I shouldn’t have gone right after high school. Gone to college. Played there. I could’ve kept you. Kept my friendship with Corrigan the same. Everything would’ve been the same. And I wouldn’t have . . . lost you.”

I closed my eyes. It was hurting to see his regret. Hearing it was enough. I felt like I was continuously being stabbed again.

“Can you say something? Please?”

I looked back up. The anguish in his eyes broke me, and the words started to spill. “I don’t have anything to say that will make it better. I didn’t want to choose. I didn’t. I kept putting it off, and I don’t know if I ever would’ve if Maria hadn’t—” An image of her holding the knife flashed in my mind. It rattled me. “I—if she hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t have known.”

“You did know. Don’t give me that bullshit. I know you knew. He was in your room the other night.”

“I was angry with you. I wanted someone to blame. I didn’t want to think Grace’s death was my fault, and you offered me an excuse to blame someone else.” I gentled my voice. “I knew as soon as I shut the door that it was wrong. I told Corrigan that right away. He knew.”

“He still slept with you.”

“He . . .” I hesitated. “It was in case it was our only night, and we didn’t have sex.” A voice laughed in my head at me, But you made love. I held my tongue. “I’m sorry, Bryce. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah.” He hung his head. “You’ve said that already.”

“I—just.” I bit down on my lip. My mind was racing and two things kept blaring at me, but did I dare? Would that help him? I shook my head. I couldn’t hold anything back anymore. Honesty was what he needed. This had to be done the right way, and that’s what I would’ve wanted. So I started, “Corrigan was adamant that I have had a wall blocking you this whole time. He wanted me to chip at it and break it down. I think he thought that when I did that, my old feelings for you would come back, and I didn’t know what would happen then.” I glanced down at my lap. The blanket was tangled up in a ball around my hands and I began picking at a thread. “Maybe there’s a wall. I don’t know, but I’ve tried. I’ve tried breaking it down. I can’t. I just can’t and every time I do, it always comes back to me.” I looked back up. My throat was raw. “We had our time.”

His head folded back down to his chest.

God. I struggled to breathe. I continued, hoarse now, “We didn’t work and sometime in there, I fell in love with Corrigan. The only thing—” I broke off. Did I add this? Would this help him?

Be honest, Sheldon. It’s what he needs.

Grace’s voice drifted back to me. That’s what she would’ve said. So I whispered, “I’m like both you and Corrigan in different ways, but you and me, we’re fucked-up..”

I felt him looking at me again, but this time I was the one who looked away. This was the most honest I’ve ever been and I felt stripped and exposed. I continued, “We’re fuck-ups. We fucked up all the time. In high school. Afterwards. The only thing we did right was saving his life and killing Marcus. I loved you so much back then. I did. You and me, we were an indestructible team. No one was more powerful, but with loving each other, we failed.”