Groom Wars

56. Broken

When we returned to the house, I fixed two cups of hot chocolate and visited Leandro's private room. It was small with a single bed and a desk, resembling a jail cell for a rich person. Leandro's eye looked worse in the bright light than it did in the dimness of our room at night. A ring of dark purple and red decorated it. By the tense way his left hand held his right, I could tell that he wanted to touch me but was trying to restrain himself. We sat on his bed and drank some of the hot chocolate. I put my head on his shoulder, and he, placing his hot chocolate on the floor, covered us with a blanket. In a relatively comfortable position, I told him about my day.

He listened quietly for the most part until he said, "Mike did what?"

"Touched my thigh."

"And what did you say?"

"Nothing, we're both guys. It doesn't mean anything,"

He looked at me and sighed. "But it means something when it's me, doesn't it? Why does the meaning disappear with someone else? Honestly, what have your parents been doing all this time? Don't they talk to you about relationships? Sex?"

"I've never really shown any interest in it."

"How did you feel when Mike touched you?"

"Odd, but I didn't hate it."

He stared at the wall in front of him, the diamond-patterned gold wallpaper. His expression soured. Then, a slow grin brightened his bruised face as an idea formed, and he announced, "Once we leave, we'll define our relationship and set rules for it."

"It'll be dangerous to take things any further than we already have. Maybe we should stop."

"No."

"But—"

"No."

A simple answer. No explanation. No follow-up questions. Did Leandro not see the same anticipatable problems I saw in our future? The same danger. Or maybe he no longer cared? Perhaps he wanted to love without caring about the consequences. Consequences I couldn't ignore.

"Le—"

He spoke in a low, soft voice, "I want you by my side; I need you."

"I can't risk anything more. I can't endanger my family."

A crestfallen expression befell him. "Don't abandon me."

"Leandro...."

He smiled, but there was sadness pooling in his eyes. "Don't talk; enjoy your hot chocolate. Drink."

I took another sip of the delicious treat. It warmed the body cold had chilled. I listened to the soft sound of his breathing and felt his hand, hidden by the blanket, hold my waist. "You're not very good at no touching," I told him.

"It's not no-touching," he said, "she said no caressing. I have not caressed you today."

"Ah. Two very different things. How could anyone be confused by that? Very clear instructions. I feel she and you will have another talk real soon."

He smiled and pressed his sticky lips against my cheek.

"Gross." I pushed his face away. I saw him think of pouncing on me, pressing me to the bed. I said, "Don't even try; I'm drinking hot chocolate right now."

"Is it more important than me?"

"You're on time out, remember?"

"True. I can't believe we were caught," Leandro muttered.

"You weren't secretive about it."

"You know you are good at being cold to me, especially when angry."

"I hope I can still be cold to you in the future."

Mischief played on his face. "Did I succeed in swaying your heart?" He leaned close to me; his breath touched and warmed my skin.

He had, but it didn't matter.

It was too dangerous. I felt something for him, and it was becoming harder and harder to fight it.

"Leandro, we end it here," I said in a firm voice that betrayed the frail, trembling, twisting emotions I felt.

For the first time, he stared at me, wordless, lips quivering as tears streaked his face.

"I'm sorry." I pressed my lips to his warm cheek, then unwrapped myself from the blanket and left the room.

I left him there with those tears cascading down his face, his composure cracking and bleeding. Stepping outside and locking the door behind me, my legs became too weak to walk. Unable to go any further, I sat with my back to the wall, hugging my knees to my chest. He had been happy, planning our future, and I—I broke him.

***