Page 67 of Beautiful Disaster

“How do you feel now that you’re a Dom again?”

“Whole. Complete. At home.”

He leans forward to kiss me. “Good, because I want to be here, too. You may see similarities between Jude and me, but I’m not him.”

“I know, but you understand my reluctance, right?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Like you, I wanted a life of my own, outside of my parents’ control. I wanted my autonomy.” I finger back his bangs to see his face better. “Now I want to have what I’ve denied myself for so long. I thought that living without a partner was my punishment. That maybe I could stop feeling so guilty, but it hasn’t worked yet.”

“I guess we both need to learn a little something about guilt and how we live with it.” Jinx kisses my forehead. “Do you have a picture of him?”

I pull away, get up, and hold out my hand to him. He takes it, and I help him stand. I lead him down the stairs and into my office, where I sit on the rug in front of the cabinet under the bookshelves, and he sits next to me.

After opening the cabinet, I pull out a memory box and hold it on my lap without opening it. “I’ve never shown anyone this,” I whisper almost reverently, running my hand over the worn cardboard.

Jinx rests a hand on my knee. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s okay.”

I finally lift the lid, then hand the box to Jinx. He can go through it.

The first thing he pulls out is the photo. I swallow the lump in my throat, but my mouth has gone dry. My hands clench, so I don’t snatch the box back. The impulse is strong enough to make me feel sick.

He stares at the picture for a long time, then says, “He’s really beautiful.”

“He was. Inside and out. Like you.”

His eyes meet mine before they’re on the photo again. “I’m not.”

“Jinx…”

He sets the picture aside, ignoring me, and pulls out the necklace with the compass. After looking at it for a second, he sets that aside as well. He takes out the cologne, pulls the cap off, and takes a whiff.

“Please don’t spray it,” I tell him.

He nods and puts it on the floor with the other items.

Next, he takes out an ‘I Love NYC’ keychain. It still has the key to my apartment attached. There’s also his favorite coffee mug that he used every morning he stayed over. It’s a handmade ceramic mug with intricate glazing. I’d bought it for him at an outdoor craft event.

There are some birthday cards and notes I’d written to him. He liked to keep those things, but he’d left those behind as well.

“A whole life shoved into a box,” he says. “It’s kinda sad.”

“It is. I’m sure his family has all sorts of things, but this was all he left at my place when… I don’t know why I kept them all.”

Jinx carefully puts everything into the box, covers it, and places it in the cabinet. He climbs into my lap and rests his head on my shoulder. “It’s the guilt, and you miss him.”

“Yeah…”

“I didn’t have trinkets, but I saw my guilt daily on Aleks’ skin. I heard it in his nightmares. Every time I see him, I’m reminded of it. He tried to help me, and all he got in return was fucking pain.”

The more he talks about Aleks, the clearer the picture becomes, even if he doesn’t tell me the full story. “His suffering wasn’t your fault. You must know that.”

“Of course it was. Not all of it, but I made it worse.”

Something tells me that no amount of words will change his mind. Just like no amount of words will change mine. Instead, I hold him close as we get lost in our pasts.