“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” Sage said tightly. “I have no right.”
“Damn right you don’t.” Her shoulders sagged. She shook her head. “That’s— That’s it. I’m done. We’re done.” She headed for the door.
“I’m sorry,” Sage said quietly when she put her hand on the doorknob.
“You should be,” she said and walked out.
* * *
“Laura left me.”
His therapist’s gaze was sharp and probing. Dr. Richardson said, “She did? Why?”
“I told her about Xavier.” Sage looked down at his hands. “About what happened in prison.”
“I see. I gather she didn’t take it well.”
Sage shook his head, his lips twisting. “She took it quite well, actually. Until I told her I ran into him a few days ago and—and couldn’t help myself.”
Silence.
“Do you feel guilty?” Dr. Richardson said at last.
Frowning, Sage looked up. “What do you think? Of course I feel guilty.”
She held his gaze. “Do you feel guilty for hurting her? Or do you feel guilty for still wanting him, despite feeling that you shouldn’t?”
Sage moistened his lips with his tongue. “I… I don’t know. Probably both.”
She cocked her head, regarding him thoughtfully. “Why do you feel you shouldn’t want him?”
“Because—because he’s a man.” Sage shook his head. “No, it’s not that. He messed me up. Messed everything up. I mean, I was normal before. I knew what I wanted from life. I had a girlfriend I loved, planned to marry her at some point, have kids—normal things, you know. But he fucked me up and now I want all the wrong things. Things I shouldn’t want.”
The look Dr. Richardson gave him could only be described as patient. “Sage,” she said softly. “There’s no such thing as normal. There is no definition of normal. Normal is subjective. You can’t—and shouldn’t—force yourself to want something ‘normal’ and stop wanting what you truly want. It’s a sure way to make your life miserable.”
Sage shook his head. “You don’t understand. It’s not like I’m homophobic or something. It’s not what bothers me the most.”
“Then what?”
Sage looked out the window. It was getting dark. He stared at the moon and said,
“When I saw him, it was like—like— I couldn’t think at all. It was frightening. It was unhealthy. I just wanted—needed it. Wanted him to use me and to—to…I couldn’t think.” Just wanted to crawl under his skin and have him consume me.
“I don’t want this,” he whispered, clenching his fists. “I don’t.”
* * *
There was no logical reason for him to go through the park again. Yes, it was the shortest way home, but he rarely used it. There were other shortcuts. Safer.
Yet the next evening after his visit to the therapist, Sage found himself walking home through the park. He wasn’t hoping to run into Xavier again. He wasn’t. It just… There was no reason for him not to use this shortcut. If he had met Xavier here once, it didn’t mean he would run into him again. Maybe it had really been a chance encounter and Xavier hadn’t been stalking him. Maybe he would never see Xavier again.
The park was empty and eerily quiet. The sound of his footsteps seemed unnaturally loud. Creepy. Sage shoved his hands into his pockets and quickened his stride, looking around.
“Looking for someone?” A heavy hand landed on his shoulder and shoved him against the nearest tree.
Sage glared at Xavier. The lamppost’s light was poor and he could barely make out Xavier’s expression. “Not you.”
The corner of Xavier’s mouth curled up. “Could have fooled me.”
His grip on his shoulder was painful. Sage sucked a breath through his gritted teeth. “Are you stalking me?”
Chuckling, Xavier put the other hand over Sage’s head and leaned in. “Newsflash,” he murmured, his warm breath almost brushing Sage’s lips. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, Blue Eyes.”
“Oh yeah?” Sage said, grabbing a fistful of Xavier’s hair. “So it’s a coincidence, then? You just happened to take a walk here?”
“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you,” Xavier said, his hand shifting from Sage’s shoulder to his throat and squeezing it lightly. Sage shivered. Xavier smiled. “If you must know, I actually work not far from here.”
Sage blinked. The idea of Xavier doing something as normal as working was strange. Hell, the fact that Xavier wasn’t an inmate anymore was strange. Sage still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it. And it totally didn’t help that Xavier was so close—it was distracting. More distracting than it should have been.
Sage turned his head, so that Xavier’s breath brushed only his cheek, and said stiffly, “It doesn’t explain why you’re all over me. What happened a few days ago was a mistake. I’m not— I’m not like that.”
Xavier grazed his teeth along Sage’s jawline. Sage squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m sure you aren’t,” Xavier murmured, trailing his parted lips over his cheek, to his ear.
Sage clenched Xavier’s hair tighter in his fist. “I’m not.”