Chapter 90 Garrett
Garrett
James looked at me, completely bewildered, his jaw halfway to the floor. For a second, he just stared at me like I’d finally lost whatever sanity I had left. Then he shook his head, exhaling, and dropped onto the bed across from me.
“If by he you mean Aslan, and by him you mean Aitor…”
I nodded, holding my breath.
“What the freaking freak do I freaking know???” he exploded.
“You’re his roommate and his best friend,” I said matter-of-factly. “He tells you stuff.”
“And Aitor is your best friend. Doesn’t he tell you stuff?”
“He wouldn’t,” I shot back. “He doesn’t want to hurt me. Conflict of interest.”
“Well, Aslan doesn’t tell me either,” James snapped, “and even if he did, I wouldn’t tell you so you could hurt him.”
“Why the hell would I hurt him?” I said, and even as the words left my mouth, I almost laughed.
So did he.
“How?” he scoffed. “You’ve bullied him, punched him—”
“Yeah, okay, okay—”
“Got him sent to the hospital, stole the one girl he was friends with,” he continued, relentless. “Tried to screw with his grades, his friends, and now his love life—”
“I said okay!” I cut him off.
James didn’t flinch this time.
“I don’t think you get it, Garrett,” he said, quieter now, but worse. “He’s my friend. You brought him in, and then you pushed him away. I don’t want you hurting him anymore… the way you hurt me.”
That one hit straight through the ribs, because he knew. No one else did, but James knew.
“You know that’s not how it went,” I said, standing, closing the distance between us before he could walk away. “My mother found out, James. She put me away.”
The words felt heavier than they should’ve, like they still didn’t belong in my mouth. A lump formed in my throat, and for a second, I couldn’t say anything else.
James’s expression cracked.
“I thought you left me,” he said, voice breaking. “She told me you asked to transfer. That you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”
I clenched my jaw. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“I found out months later,” he went on, eyes glassy now. “Olivia tracked me down and told me the truth. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”
I swallowed.
He let out a shaky breath. “I didn’t know where you were. I didn’t know what they were doing to you. I didn’t know if you were okay… if you remembered me… I waited for you, Garr. For months. Like an idiot.”
My chest tightened.
“I thought about you,” I said quietly. “All the time. But I couldn’t contact anyone. They didn’t let me. And little by little…” I hesitated. “They started erasing everything. My memories. My past. My life.”
Silence settled between us, heavy.
“Then why,” James asked, barely above a whisper, “when you came back… did you ignore me? Why the hate?”
“I never hated you,” I said immediately. “I couldn’t be seen near you. Not even once. Or they would’ve sent me back there, James. The center had jurisdiction over me.”
His face softened. For the first time since I walked in, he stepped closer instead of away.
“I had feelings for you, Garr,” he said quietly. “I know we were kids. Puppy love, right?” He smiled shyly. “But it hurt… I wanted you safe. That’s why I moved on… but it took me a long time.”
“I cared too,” I admitted. “You were my first—”
“Gay lover?” he cut in with a faint, broken smile.
I huffed. “I was gonna say my first friend. My first relationship. The first person I actually gave a shit about.”
That landed.
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” I added. “I’m sorry. They… changed me. Or at least they tried to. I had to stay away from you when I got back. You don’t know what that maintenance shit does to you…”
James reached up, his hand brushing my face for a second, soft, understanding. “I get it,” he said gently.
Then his expression shifted. “But then Aslan showed up… and it all started again.”
I looked away. “My mom noticed. She always does. She got in between us before anything even had a chance to happen.”
James let out a slow breath. “That’s why you’re with Trisha,” he muttered. “And why you pushed him toward Aitor.”
“Yeah.”
“But now you want him back?”
I hesitated. Then nodded. “I’m working on something. Getting Trisha on board. So I can move without suspicion. I want to tell her the truth during our Christmas trip.”
James blinked. “Wow. Party popper much?”
I snorted, shaking my head, then grief hit back. “Truth is, I don’t even know if Aslan would ever agree to seeing me in hiding.”
“I would’ve,” James said softly.
That shut me up. Silence stretched again, heavier this time.
“What sucks is that,” he said after a moment, more composed now, “even if Aslan decides he’s happier with you… what happens to Aitor?”
I exhaled slowly. “I know. He asked me for permission to date him. And I said yes. But I didn’t lie to him. I told him one day I’d try to take Aslan from him.”
James let out a low whistle. “Wow. What a shitty friend you are.”
“I told him I couldn’t be with him for now,” I corrected. “I didn’t wanna lie.”
James studied me for a second. Then he said, quieter, sharper, “Truth is, Garrett… the real question isn’t whether Aslan loves Aitor. It’s whether either of you actually loves him.”
That hit harder than anything else he’d said. I looked at James—this sweet, gentle boy, the kindness behind his sarcasm, the aching heart beneath his constant optimism—and I felt so fucking grateful he’d been my first experience, my first real crush. I was a lucky bastard, and right then, I knew I wanted the same for my lion.
Without thinking, I reached out and cupped his face. “Thank you, James. For… everything.”
He looked at me through his glittery lashes, his bright green eyes still glassy.
“Are you happy now?” I asked.
He took a shaky breath. “Happy enough.” He smiled faintly. “I moved on.”
“Is the new guy good to you?”
“He is, but we’re still keeping it—” He hesitated.
“Secret?”
He shrugged, a resigned smile tugging at his lips. “I told you I could.”
I almost told him he didn’t deserve to be anyone’s secret, but then the irony hit me.
“Goodnight, James.” I leaned in and kissed his forehead before turning toward the door. Then I paused, glancing back at him. “I’ll always be here for you. I want you to know that. I might act like an asshole eighty percent of the time, but I’ve got your back.”
James gave me a soft smile. “I know.”
Back in my room, I replayed our conversation over and over in my head. I was tired of hurting people, tired of being hurt, and for once, I actually wanted to do the right thing. James had thrown out the one question I’d been avoiding week after week—which one of us loved Aslan—and I didn’t answer, because for the first time, I didn’t know how.
We hadn’t even known each other that long. Not for "love" talk.
Aitor? There was no way he loved Aslan. Not after everything with Linnea. Holy shit, it’d been like what, five minutes since he was falling apart over her, calling her the love of his life, his soulmate? That kind of thing didn’t just disappear.
He cared about Aslan, and he obviously wanted him...
But love? No, that didn’t make sense. Aitor didn’t love him.
And I… I didn’t even know what love was.
There was no love in this triangle. Just a twisted mess of connection and attraction blown way out of proportion—just like I’d told Graves week after week. I almost nodded to myself, satisfied with the reasoning.
Almost.
Because right underneath it, something close to grief twisted, sharp and quiet, settling deep in my chest.
Why the hell couldn’t I let him go?
Why was I only at peace when he was near?
Why did he make me feel human...?
Safe.
Why did the thought of losing him feel like I couldn’t breathe, like something inside my chest was being ripped out piece by piece, and there was nothing I could do to stop it?
My jaw tightened, my hands curling into fists as I forced the thoughts down the way I’d been trained to.
Control it. Contain it. Kill it.
But it didn’t go away.
It stayed—louder, clearer, terrifying, under tears that threatened to spill.
Holy fuck.
Did I love Aslan?