Get your fucking act together, Donovan. Colin's not gonna come back to you on his own. Not after what you did to him. It's up to you to get him. You have to find the answer. Pull your head out of your ass, and figure out a way to prove yourself worthy of him, like Tag suggested. It's your only shot.
Problem was, Marek didn't know if he was worth Colin giving him a second chance. He looked down at the alcohol-splashed sink and thought about running his fingers through the wetness; he saw himself bringing his hands to his mouth and licking the streaks of booze off them as he panicked and craved temporary oblivion again.
No! Marek turned on the tap before he could be tempted again and sprayed the basin with water, drowning the last of the beer, wine, and whiskey away.
He left the kitchen and wandered his house, inside and out, over and over again, letting every piece of Colin and their time and talks together sink into his heart and mind, saturating him. Marek remained sober, didn't have any choice right then, and let every second spent with Colin, and let every emotion the man evoked and provoked, cut into him and go deeper than any drink ever could. Fuck, the pain of feeling everything he'd done to the other man ripped through him hard enough to knock him off his feet, but he screamed at the top of his lungs and pushed himself to get back up.
Eventually, hours after darkness set in, Marek knew what he was supposed to do.
He didn't exactly feel hopeful, but he went inside and got to work anyway.
He didn't have anything left to lose.
* * * * *
Two weeks after returning home from Fiji, Jordan clicked online to check her e-mail and nearly fell out of her chair. The top of the list had a name she'd never expected to see again. From: Marek Donovan, and the subject line read Please don't delete.
Checking her watch, right on time, the doorknob rattled, and seconds later, her husband appeared.
“Honey?” she called to him from the desk across the living room. “Can you come here for a minute?”
“Hey, babe.” Tag looked up and smiled. “What is it?”
Jordan crooked her finger, drawing Tag to her side. “Do you know anything about this?”
After kissing her cheek, Tag leaned over her shoulder and looked at the monitor. His eyes stopped scanning when he spotted Marek's name. “Not what it says. But I did tell you I left him information about how to get in touch with us.”
Righteous indignation burned in Jordan's belly for her best friend. “Damn it. Son of a bitch. I would have thought this guy was smarter than trying to get to Colin through me.” She clicked a checkmark next to the asshole's name and moved her cursor to select Delete.
Tag covered her hand and jostled the mouse, waving the arrow away before she could make it happen. “Don't do something impulsive you might later wish you hadn't. Aren't you the slightest bit curious about what he has to say?”
She narrowed her gaze up at him. “Why? Has he already been in touch with you?”
“Today, for the first time, same as you.” Tag took off his jacket, loosened his tie, and walked across the open space to the kitchen. “He said hello and let me know he had sent something to you. I just walked in the door. You know I would have told you as soon as we sat down to eat.”
Yeah, she knew he would too. Damn. She turned in the swivel chair, following Tag with her gaze as he disappeared behind a wall into the kitchen. A moment later, he reappeared with a can of soda.
“You think I should read it,” she said to him.
“I think you should at least give it serious consideration before you click the note into the trash.” Tag paused, popped the top of his drink, and took a swallow before he captured Jordan's gaze again and went on. “I think you should think about how damned happy Colin was every second he was with Marek, right up until he learned Marek had misled him. I think you should think about how Colin has looked the last two weeks, and don't even necessarily compare him to the guy in Fiji, but to the man who for the last two years loved this faceless person in his dreams, and how connected he felt to that man.” Tag walked across the living room and kneeled in front of Jordan. Setting his drink on the floor, he tucked his arms around her waist and looked up into her eyes. “I want you to think about how the shape, the structure, and body of that house turned out to mirror the one in his dreams and then just consider that maybe the man who lives inside it has the same heart and soul as that dream man too. What if none of it was a strange coincidence?” he asked. “What if Marek really is a good man who made a huge mistake, and what if Colin really is supposed to be in that house with him in Fiji?”
Her heart squeezing, Jordan caressed her husband's strong jaw. “Nobody looking at you would ever think you were such a big ol' romantic.”
“As long as you know.” Tag leaned in, brushed her lips with a kiss, and stood back up. “I'm going to go take a shower. Then I'm taking you out for dinner.”
“Sounds good.” Swiveling back to face the computer, Jordan clicked on Marek's e-mail. “You're lucky my husband likes you,” she mumbled, glaring, as if the man could see her through the screen.
Then, she read Marek's e-mail.
Jordan—I know I hurt Colin, and I don't blame him or you for being so angry. I hurt him, twice, and you cannot know how much I will always regret that. I miss him
