Secrets I Have Held In My Heart

Chapter 36

Spencer has been sleeping practically all day. He doesn't really come out of his room except if he needs water, since I discovered he has his own bathroom attached to his bedroom. I'm glad his last night's indulgence manifested into the form of a merciless hangover.

Auggie is at daycare, mom took him. He's decided to stay at her house again tonight and I couldn't be more grateful. I like sleeping in on a daily basis, well, apart from work. And I haven't let August see his grandmother in a while so he deserves it.

I sit at the end of Spencer's bed, waiting for him to wake up. We need to talk about what happened between us and he's slept enough for today already. The glow of the sunset streams through the blinds, waking him up. He groggily attempts to sit up, noticing me finally.

  "Good evening," I say, my voice laced with a tinge of disappointment.

He winces at my words, the gravity of his actions from the previous night crashing down upon him. He obviously remembers drowning his sorrows in alcohol, seeking solcae in the numbing embrace of intoxication. But now, the consequences of his choices loomed before him, embodied in my disapproving gaze.

  "I'm sorry," He mumbles, his voice strained.

  "Sorry about what? That you were gone for two days? That both your son and I were worried about you because we didn't know where you were? Or are you sorry about the fact that we're both completely fucked up?" I ask him, my eyes softening, my stern facade melting away to reveal my genuine concern.

I watch his eyes as his heart sinks, realizing the weight of the conversation that awaits us. I know there's secrets lurking in the shadows for both of us, secrets that have strained our relationship and threatens to tear us apart.

  "Everything. I-I'm sorry about everything." He replies, becoming his younger-self as he stutters. His voice is a mix of apprehension and determination.

I take a deep breath, my eyes searching his face for a moment before I begin to speak. My voice quivers slightly, betraying my emotions I have kept hidden for far too long. "Spence, I never wanted to keep anything from you," I confess, my voice raw with regret. "I didn't even know I was pregnant that night, I thought I was dying when I pulled myself into the shower and when I held Auggie in my hands, his stilled body, I felt like I had been ripped away from myself."

His eyes just look at me. Like a really sad, lost puppy dog. "I'm sorry." he says, his voice trembling. He doesn't know what to say and neither do I. He sucks in a deep breath and looks up at the ceiling, before blowing it out and looking at me. "I left that night because....because I knew that if I stayed around any longer...something bad would've happened. I never told you this but-"

He stops and I can see him struggling to continue. I grab his hand against my better judgment as I urge him to continue.

  "When I came back from jail...I would ha-have these thoughts?" The room is cloaked in an oppressive silence as he summons the courage to share what he's been thinking and why he left me that night. "They were like these...horrifying images and they're were so vivid that I thought they actually happened."

My brows furrow with concern. "What kind of images?"

Spencer closes his eyes, voice quivering as he forces himself to reveal what he's been thinking. "Of you. I would se-seemyself hurting you," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper as he cries.

He's crying.

Spencer Reid is crying.

  "My hands-" he pulls himself away from me "My hands would wrap around your throat and I would watch myself choke you until you died. I was this-this monster. I was the same thing that we would arrest and send away to jail, never to be seen again."

I feel tears well up in my eyes, my heart breaking at the vulnerability etched across Spencer's face. "Spencer, you're not a monster." I plead, a whisper.

  "I know that. But my real thoughts didn't matter in those...things. It's like something would take over me and I know I didn't want to stay long enough for the images to come true. So I left." He shakes his head, a bitter mixture of self-loathing and resignation coursing through his veins. "I didn't want to hurt you, Cami. I don't want to hurt you." he chokes out, his voice laden with anguish. "What if those images came true and I lost control and destroyed everything?"

My heart shatters as I witness the depth of Spencer's pain. I've always known that brain of his was a labyrinthine, a place where he never fully came back from prison. But this revelation strikes at the very core of our relationship, threatening to push us even further apart as he's still scared of this.

  "Spencer," I whisper, my voice filled with sorrow. "Spence." I push myself closer to him. He's pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes as his body shakes from his sobs. "Spencer look at me." I say gently, prying his hands away from his face. "You're not a monster. You're the furthest thing from a monster. Well, within reason." My hands are holding his face, my thumbs wiping the tears from his tired eyes. "And I know you won't hurt me or our son. You're a good person. Should you have left? No. But I understand why you did. I wish you didn't but I understand."

  "Why didn't you tell me sooner? About Auggie?" he asks and I gulp.

  "Truthfully? I didn't know who or what you would be when you found me again. I didn't want it to be real. I didn't want to believe that you were actually back and standing right in front of me everyday. And a part of me...didn't want you to stay."

His hand reaches out to grasp my hand, his touch soft. "Camilla, I can't change what I've done," he says with regret. "I don't know what's going to happen with everything going on. But I want to stay. I want to be with you and Auggie. Please."

  "I can't kick you out of your own home. August would be devastated if you left."

  "Do you want me to stay?"

My eyes meet his, tears glistening in my own. It takes me a long time to answer, just debating if I actually want to tell him the truth. But I can't lie. He was a FBI behavioral analysis, he'll see right through it. So I decide to answer honestly. I nod slowly.

  "I want you to stay."

We stare at each other for just a few seconds before I crash my lips onto his.