Coda Books 06 - Fear, Hope, and Bread Pudding (MM)

rarely apologized for anything, but that night he said the words “I’m sorry” more than anything else. Other than that, he hardly seemed to speak. Every time he did, he glanced at me afterward as if seeking my approval. Thomas tried to steer us through small talk, but it all came out stilted and tense. And through it all, I could feel Taylor watching us. I could see her becoming more and more uncomfortable.
    Nobody ever brought up the adoption or the baby. It was ridiculous. It was the reason we were all sitting together, and yet the subject felt off-limits. After dinner , I kept telling myself. After dinner, we’ll sit in the family room, and Cole will get ahold of himself, and we’ll sort this all out.
    But it wasn’t to be. No sooner had she finished eating than Taylor stood and said quietly to Thomas, “I’m ready to go.”
    After nearly two hours of horrible awkwardness, those four words broke through whatever trance Cole had been in.
    “Honey, no. Please don’t leave yet. Maybe I can whip up some dessert and—”
    “Thank you,” she said. “But please don’t bother. I have to work early, and it’s best if I get home.”
    He nodded, such a tiny gesture, but I could sense the weight of his grief. I showed them to the door. I closed it behind them. I rested my forehead against it and tried to prepare myself. I counted to ten, and I turned to reach for him.
    “Stop!” he said, holding his hand up to ward me off.
    It was a moment out of our past, a flashback to the days when he’d pushed me away more often than not. It hurt me more than I could say. “Cole—”
    “No.” His voice broke and he took a step backward. He touched his fingertips to his lips, but not before I saw the way his chin quivered. “Not yet, Jonny. Please.”
    “Tell me what you need.”
    “I need to be alone.”
    I didn’t think that was what he needed at all. What he needed was to let me hold him. To give voice to his grief, to come apart in my arms, to cry and yell until he was exhausted from it all, but he’d never allow himself such a thing. Even now. Even after everything we’d been through, he couldn’t let me see him that way. It broke my heart, but pushing him would get me nowhere. It would only make him angry. He’d throw his hair out of his face and say something hurtful just to drive me away.
    So I let him go.
    I stood in our living room and watched the man I loved go down the hall to our bedroom. I watched him shut the door behind him.
    And I was left to grieve in solitude.

Chapter Seven

    Date: December 30
    From: Cole
    To: Jared
    It’s too terrible to talk about. All I can say is, I’ve never hated myself more than I do right now.

    I POURED myself a drink and tackled the mess left over from the ruined dinner. It was still my habit to do the dishes after Cole cooked, but rarely had I done them with such a heavy heart. I cleaned in silence, wiping up splatters of sauce we’d never eaten and dumping soggy pasta down the disposal. I didn’t know how long he needed, but eventually, the kitchen was clean, and my drink was gone.
    He was in bed with the lights turned off and his back toward me. He wasn’t sleeping though. He was too still and too stiff. I undressed and climbed into bed. I watched his back for a moment, waiting for some kind of sign. When none came, I moved closer to him.
    “No,” he said.
    I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him tight against me. “Yes.” I kissed the butterfly on the back of his neck. I slid my hand down his stomach to cup his groin.
    “I can’t possibly have sex. Not after what happened.”
    “But this is when you need it the most.”
    “Is that what you think?”
    I kissed his neck again as I caressed him. “It’s what I know. Your mind’s running in circles right now, thinking over and over about what went wrong.”
    “Of course it is.”
    “It’s time to make it stop.”
    He sighed in frustration, but part of his annoyance was because it was already working. He’d wanted to lie there and chastise himself all night, but already his body was responding to my touch, his cock growing thick and stiff in my hand. Already his breathing was changing, his voice growing thick with desire, although he was still tense against me.
    “I’m a terrible person,” he said.
    “Why?”
    “For being so easily distracted.”
    I chuckled against his neck. “I’m pretty sure that just makes you male.”
    “I don’t know if I can, Jonny.”
    I didn’t argue