The drive back home was such a nauseous, furious blur, I didn’t think I’d make it back in one piece until I was standing at my front door, keys in my hand. I actually had to stop for a moment just to breathe, my lungs aching like I’d forgotten to use them. Upon entering, for the first time in a long time, the apartment was quiet like a tomb.

  Instead of panicking at Raja’s absence, I was grateful for it; I couldn’t handle him seeing me like this. As soon as I was in the bathroom, I locked the door behind me just to be safe. When I flipped on the light, the sight of my reflection was so sobering, I let out a long exhale.

  Dark red blood had run down all over my chin, staining the colr of my shirt. Since the bleeding had stopped a while ago, what hadn’t been smudged away was now dry and crusty, caked around my nostrils and the little dip above my mouth. From the impact of the punches, my lip had split, and I’d gotten a cut across the bridge of my nose. How the hell was I going to expin all of this at work? My stomach lurched at the thought.

  As I stared at myself, my focus flickered to my eyes, where I could’ve sworn I saw a bolt of yellow fsh across the brown of my irises. With a thick, painful swallow, I looked away.

  In the wake of my rage, I was left empty. I was always pretty talented when it came to the art of fucking up, but these days, I seemed to be perfecting my craft at an arming rate. Though I desperately wanted to get control of myself, I wasn’t sure I even could. Not with this humming, not with this buzzing, not with whatever was happening to me.

  The shower I took afterward could hardly have been called a shower - it was more like a soaking wet pity party. I sat in there for so long, the water ran cold, and the tips of my fingers wrinkled like little prunes. Even after I’d shut the water off, I lingered in there for far too long, hesitant to leave the safety of my steamy cocoon.

  In the middle of getting dressed, I gnced at my reflection in the mirror again. Without the blood, all that’d been left behind were the little cuts, but to my surprise, there wasn’t any bruising. I almost looked normal, which was more unnerving than it should’ve been. Just when I was in the kitchen grabbing something from the fruit bowl, the front door creaked open, and Raja came in.

  “Hey,” I said, peeling the sticker off of the apple in my hands.

  “Oh! Manny!” Raja blinked, a little surprised. “You’re home earlier than I thought you’d be. Did Mercy’s party end already? I thought Mexican parties sted for, like, centuries.”

  “Nah, it, uh…” My mind raced. “Just… wasn’t my scene, you know. Decided to quit while I was ahead.”

  “Ah. That’s weird— you used to be a real party animal back in the day.” He came further into the kitchen, digging around in the fridge for a can of Sprite. “Guess you grew out of it, huh?”

  “Guess so…” I bit into the apple, chewing thoughtfully. “So, how’d your interview go? That was today, right? At that little gyro pce down the street?”

  “It was the best one I’ve had yet!” A warm, goofy little grin stretched across his face. “It was funny, the guy that owns the pce went on this whole thing about how he’s from a long line of mobsters, which is crazy, ‘cause I didn’t think we had the Mafia in Dals. And he brought it up out of nowhere, so I sort of wonder if the pce is actually a front for, like, money undering. But it was good, overall.”

  “Wait, like the Italian Mafia?” I raised an eyebrow. “I thought gyro was a Greek thing.”

  “That’s what I said, but I also thought he was Jewish at first, so…” He shrugged. “Anyway, he was actually pretty cool. I told him I’ve got a bad knee, and he said I could just work the register on a stool if I had to. Usually when I mention my leg, I get this look, like… ‘Oh boy, here comes the cripple to slow everyone down!’ But he was fine with it, which was great.”

  With a mouthful of apple, I gave him a thumbs-up. “Well, fingers crossed it works out for you, man.”

  Raja smiled, but it slipped off his face quickly once he’d gnced over at me, his eyes studying every feature of my face. Awkwardly, I cleared my throat, but rather than scare him off, he set his drink on the counter and circled around to get a better look at me.

  “Uh, what are you doing?” I asked nervously.

  Disregarding my question, Raja cocked his head to the side. “What happened to your face?”

  “What?” Under his stare, my cheeks burned. “It’s nothing. No big deal.”

  Again, Raja drew closer, until he was so close that my back had to be pressed against the counter to give us any space at all. His gaze was fixed on the cut on my lip, but mine was fixed on his neck, distracted by the way his jugur twitched with every quick little pulse. I wasn’t sure if the sound of that hammering heart beat was mine or his.

  “Are these… cuts?” Gently, Raja reached up to tilt my face. “Did something happen at the party?”

  “No,” I lied. “Seriously, you don’t need to worry—”

  As I spoke, he brought his thumb to my lip, the tip of it grazing the cut so lightly, I hardly felt it. Immediately, it brought back memories of Garrett’s finger against mine, and I recoiled violently.

  “Stop!” I cried out. “I— I said it was nothing, okay?!”

  Raja reeled his hand back. Then, his expression shifted from shock to frustration. “Fine,” he said, his tone cold. “Fuck me for giving a shit, then.”

  My heart continued jumping around in my chest, leaving me speechless, powerless to expin. With a look of rejection cast across his features, Raja took his Sprite from the counter and swiftly exited the kitchen.

  Once I’d taken a second to compose myself, I followed Raja to the living room, where he sat on the couch and stared ahead at the TV. Even when it was obvious that I was standing there, he ignored me, tapping the remote to turn the TV on.

  “Raj,” I sighed.

  He said nothing, simply turning up the volume on the TV.

  Despite the cut on it, I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Man, come on.”

  Though his expression was bnk, it was clear that the gears in Raja’s head were turning, like he was choosing his words very carefully. Then he let out a deep breath, turned off the TV, and swiveled his head in my direction.

  “I’m tired of you constantly shutting me out,” he said. “You come home all the time looking fucked up, or— I don’t know, like you’ve been through some shit— but every time I ask what’s going on, you cm up. You’re always keeping me in the dark, and I’m sick of it. Don’t you ever feel like I might deserve an expnation for once?”

  I frowned. “The fuck you want me to say? You wouldn’t get it—”

  “’Cause you won’t fucking tell me! You won’t even let me try to understand!” He barked, his face twisted with anger. “Fuck, Manny— you’re always demanding that I tell you everything, but you never give me the same in return. I want to be there for you, but you keep pushing me away, and… it hurts, alright? And I’m done pretending that it doesn’t.”

  Seeing him this way sent a bolt of guilt right through my core, disarming me completely. Quietly, I took a seat next to Raja on the couch and clutched my head in my hands. If only I could twist it right off my neck and repce it with something new, something better.

  “I’m sorry, Raj.” With every blink, my eyes burned like they’d been open for days. “I’m sorry that I’m like this.”

  Beside me, Raja softened, his brow no longer a ft line across his forehead. “I get it. It’s been a long time, and I can’t expect you to trust me right away, but… I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to make you believe in me again.”

  “It’s— I’m not trying to punish you,” I said, voice barely audible. I ran my hands through my hair, resting them at the back of my neck. “I just… I don’t even know where to start. My life’s spiraling out of control and— and I don’t know how to expin it without sounding fucking insane and scaring you off. I don’t know what to do anymore. Every time I talk about shit, it only makes things worse, and…”

  Steadying myself, I had to force myself to look at him, to meet his dark eyes with my own. “I don’t want you thinking this was all a mistake,” I whispered. “I don’t want you to think I’m a mistake.”

  By now, every ounce of frustration had disappeared from his features, and there was nothing left but an agonizing tenderness. In the silence that fell between us, Raja shifted on his side of the couch, scooting over until he was close enough to take my palm into his.

  “Manny… I’ve fucked up in a lot of ways, but…” He looked down at our hands, then back up into my eyes. “You’re probably the only thing in my life I’ve ever gotten right.”

  My throat tightened like my heart had climbed up into it and called it home. Then, slowly, Raja closed the distance between us until his lips pressed fully against mine, his hand cupping my cheek.

  The right thing to do was to pull away, to get up off of this couch and put a hundred miles between us; it was the only way to keep from turning him to ash as I crashed and burned. But I’d carried over ten years worth of missing him, wanting him and needing him. I just wasn’t strong enough to walk away, even when it was for the best. Even when neither of us knew what I was becoming.

  So when Raja kissed me, I let him.

  And when he moved down my neck and past my chest, I let him.

  And when he slipped a hand underneath my waist band, I let him.

  And I savored every second of it.