His Truth(75)By: Riley Hart
“I’m sorry. I—”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Leo told him honestly. “This is all me. It’s in here.” He tapped the side of his head. “But it’s there. And after everything that’s happened, I’m scared as fuck that being with me is bad for you. That our history together will mean we never have peace. That you’ll realize being with me is too much.”
“No,” Roman told him. He stood, walked over, and stopped next to Leo, who turned to face him. “It might not be easy, and I obviously have some things to work through, and honestly, you probably do too, but my stuff? The things I need to work through? They have nothing to do with being with you. This is how I am. I’ll always want you, Leo. Always. My life will always be more fulfilled with you in it. I might not be sure about anything else, but I’ll always be sure about you. It’s the only truth I know for certain.”
He reached out, cupped Leo’s cheek, and Leo nuzzled his hand. Roman then slid it behind Leo’s neck to rest on the spot he’d always loved.
He liked that, being Roman’s truth. Because Roman was Leo’s as well. “No one has ever loved me the way you do.”
“It’s the same for me.”
Leo stood, held tight onto Roman’s hips. Roman wrapped his arms around Leo’s neck. “I love you so fucking much, Ro. You’ve always been my heart.”
“I love you too.” Roman’s hands moved down, cupped Leo’s ass. “And never be afraid to tell me how you feel. I’ve been so scared these past few days that you were having second thoughts, and you were worried about the same thing. We need to talk.”
Leo smiled, kissed the corner of Roman’s mouth. “Can we talk about getting a new apartment? Somewhere we find together?”
Roman kissed him this time. “Hell yes. I thought you’d never ask. My place…it’s not us, but I’m not sure how I feel about returning to your place. I don’t know how to deal with Anthony.”
Leo tried not to growl at the mention of Roman’s brother. The brother who left a note at the hospital with a phone number, asking that Roman call him if he was ever ready. That he was sorry.
“Good. Glad we’re on the same page about the apartment.” Leo kissed the other corner of his mouth. “What about fucking? Can we talk about the fact that I want to fuck you?” he teased.
“No.” Roman shook his head, but then began tugging Leo toward his room. “We’re not going to just talk about that, we’re going to do it.”
Leo gladly let Roman pull him to his room. In that moment, they were happy. He knew it wouldn’t be easy. They’d have good days and bad—good moments and bad. Roman had a lot to deal with, they both did, but as long as they were together, they could accomplish anything.
One year later
Roman’s pulse was steady as he waited for Anthony to come into the room. Leo sat beside him on the couch, so close their legs touched. He knew if Leo had it his way, they might not be there. Or Leo would be plastered all over him as though he could protect Roman from this day. But the truth was, Leo couldn’t protect him from anything…and Roman wanted to do this. He needed to do it.
And he wasn’t scared.
Before he’d even considered setting up a day to walk into a room with his brother again, Roman had made sure he was ready—that it was on his time, what he wanted, because it was what was best for him. Leo supported him every step of the way, even though Roman knew a part of Leo wanted to kill Anthony for the pain he’d caused.
Roman loved Leo for it.
He also loved himself enough to face his past and to continue looking forward to the future he and Leo were creating together.
Roman turned and looked at Leo. His jaw was set. His eyes hard. He looked more worried than Roman felt. “Hey,” he whispered, and Leo’s eyes met his. “We’re good, Leo. I’m good. Nothing he can do will hurt me or us.”
Leo nodded, and some of the tension drained from his features. They were at a neutral place—in a private room at his psychologist’s office. The couch they sat on was brown and plush. They sank into the cushions. Across from them was another matching couch, where his psychologist sat. She was there to support him, to help him manage possible trigger symptoms, and to act as a mediator if things got uncomfortable. Between the couches was a long table.
“I know, Tough Guy. You got this.” Leo winked at him, so much love and support in his stare.
Roman met his psychologist’s eyes and nodded.
The door rattled. Roman noticed Leo’s fingers dig into his own thigh. Roman reached over and threaded their fingers together as the door opened and his brother stepped inside.
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