“You’re just leaving?” Kellus sounded surprised.
“Of course I’m leaving. I’m tired of being second, and I’m absolutely not going to be used. I’ve tried everything I know to make you care for me the way I care for you. Now I’m having to compete with a shell of a person who destroyed himself and is very close to destroying you.”
“You don’t get it, Arik.”
That was all he could say? Arik didn’t respond, he just sidestepped Kel and stalked down the hall, never looking back as the front door slammed shut behind him.
Chapter 30
Kellus sat on a stool in the guest bedroom, staring at the new wall mount he’d made to match the one in Arik’s penthouse. The colors were identical; he’d been lucky to find the same glass he’d used for Arik’s piece. The colors shimmered from deep blues to turquoise, fading into pale grays that almost looked silver when you moved from one side to another. The easy movement and fluidity of the piece drew his eyes and held them. The image staring back at him stunned him. Honestly, he hadn’t planned this. He’d always preferred circles to straight lines in his designs. But what now stood out most to him was the plus sign. Never had it occurred to him that he wasn’t following his normal patterns. He stared at the intersecting lines he’d made. Three solid feet of a plus sign. No wonder this particular work had consumed him, captured his heart, and refused to release him. This piece represented him and the offering of himself to Arik.
The weight of that realization caused his shoulders to slump, and a stupid tear slipped free, rolling down his cheek. He wiped it off his face and reached for his back pocket, pulling his phone free. There weren’t any new messages from Arik. It had been almost two full days since he had left this house and at least forty hours since Kellus had sent the single text message begging forgiveness that had been ignored. He swallowed the lump in his throat, knowing his heart had been broken on a level that he’d never fully recover from. With every fiber of his being, he loved Arik.
His gaze lifted to the art. He’d hidden this particular piece so Arik wouldn’t accidentally stumble upon it while snooping through his designs. The thought of Arik’s childlike enthusiasm over his art brought a smile to his face, followed immediately by a deep heart-wrenching pain, tightening like a vise around his heart. The one piece John hadn’t managed to destroy was the one piece Arik wouldn’t see. He scrubbed his hands down his face, then he rose to leave the room, more than disgusted with this deep depression he’d fallen into.
Since he was aware of every single minute that had passed over the last forty hours, he knew it was well past midnight. He walked the length of the hall, through the living room and into the kitchen. He ran his hand over the contracts and pricing sheets still littering his kitchen table. He went to his medicine cabinet and pulled out an old bottle of sleeping aid, dropping two, then deciding on three, into the palm of his hand. With as dismal as he’d become, he doubted anything would help him sleep, but dammit, he couldn’t last another day without any rest.
Quickly downing the three small pills, Kellus left the water bottle on the counter, knowing he should be cleaning his house from top to bottom in order to show it to prospective buyers. He hadn’t done any of that, quite the contrary actually. He hadn’t picked up one single thing since Arik left in such a rage the day of the fight. He also hadn’t gone to care for John like he should. He berated himself for that one. This wasn’t the time to slip up where John’s health was concerned. In the end, that didn’t seem to matter. He’d had John’s mother verify the bedding had been changed and his doctor had checked the bedsore. Even if those things weren’t true, he couldn’t seem to find the motivation to leave the house. Involuntary waves of extreme regret randomly pushed him over the edge, causing tears to unexpectedly fall. Arik had loved him even with all of his faults, and he’d still managed to screw that up.
Kellus shrugged off his clothes, leaving them in a pile at the end of the bed. He crawled across the mattress, cell phone in hand, and snuggled down under the blankets. He held his cell phone in the air, trying to talk himself out of doing what he planned. Arik had broken up with him for a reason. Begging was such a pitiful way to bring someone back into his life.
At this point, he didn’t care how pathetic he looked. He just needed Arik to know he loved him.