After a harrowing morning, during which I had regretted my decision to leave at least a hundred times, I finally got the sign I'd been waiting for since the night before.

Are you ready to say sorry yet?

A peace offering I would gladly take any day of the week. My worry unraveled in an instant as I typed the reply.

Can I come over tonight? x

I've got practice tonight. Come to my room now.

Staring at the sludge on my plate, I decided that lunch was overrated anyway. Not that I'd been able to eat much since last night. I had an aversion to throwing food, but rules were all about exceptions, or so my sister used to say. I'd withdrawn to a corner of the cafeteria, so I doubted that anyone I knew would see me sneak away. Chris and his friend, Samantha, had found seats at our usual spot close to the windows, far away from the exit. Questions would likely follow if they saw me, not perhaps that I had walked away, but the fact that I had ignored them by choosing to sit by myself. Luckily, they were too wrapped up in conversation to notice much else.

The short walk from the cafeteria to Gabriel's corridor gave me enough time to set up my mind for the task at hand. He wanted an apology, and even if I was mad at him for basically stalking me and interrupting my job, I kind of understood where he was coming from. Even if I doubted Cameron had a single bad bone in his body, Gabriel couldn't possibly know that. Perhaps I should be happy that he cared for my safety enough to skip practice and trek across the city to make sure I was fine.

His room appeared a lot different in daylight. The walls were tinged with a yellowish sheen that disappeared when light was scant. Other details stood out as well, such as the worn down furniture, scraped and battered by years of use. Gabriel sat by his desk, tapping his fingers on the surface littered with rings from countless cans of energy drinks.

He rose, holding onto the back of the chair. "Hi."

"Hey." Without hesitation, I walked inside and threw my arms around him. "I'm sorry we argued yesterday."

"Me too."

The kiss that followed was absolutely perfect, infused with forgiveness and repentance. The argument had been weird and I wanted to forget all about it and move on. He seemed to agree which made it all easier.

"What are you up to?" I asked, still locked in our embrace.

"Studying. Can't understand why they make me take these classes."

It wasn't the first time he'd been bitter about the classes he had to take. His life's mission was football, not academia.

"I'm sure they'll be good for something."

He smiled. "Maybe you're right."

The ease with which he said those words, how he listened to my thoughts, made it all so much sweeter. Arguments wouldn't help either of us, and I would much rather settle everything than carry a grudge.

"What are you doing until practice?"

He grinned. "Studying...but I can think of one or two other things I'd rather be doing."

Warmth pooled in my groin. "Oh, really?"

"Don't sound so surprised." He tugged at my hair as he kissed me, steering me exactly to where he wanted me to be. It was passion and love all merged into one.

* * * *

Over the following weeks, Gabriel kept showing me all the reasons why I'd fallen in love with him. We avoided arguments and tried to find as much time for each other as possible. It was very easy to forget that anything else existed.

To compensate for all those hours spent in his arms, I worked around Gabriel's schedule, joining Cameron at his studio when Gabriel was at practice. It was embarrassingly weak of me to tip-toe around a possible argument by omitting what I did when he was away, but I figured we needed a bit more time to settle down before I felt secure enough to tackle that subject again. There wasn't any unsavory business anyway. I was learning a lot from Cameron, and he seemed keen to make me into a proper photographer.

A string of mild curses sounded from the main room in the studio. Leaning back in the office chair, I saw Cameron through the doorway. He was wincing and holding his right foot in a solid grip.

"What happened?"

"I killed my pinky toe."

It was absolutely appalling to laugh when someone was in pain, but he made such a huge deal out of it that I couldn't help the bubbling laughter.

"You're evil," he said, removing his leather shoe to assess the damage.

"Maybe I should drive you down to the hospital then?"

The glare he threw me sent me into another fit of laughter. "I'm a necromancer, there's no need for a doctor." Obviously, the pain wasn't too bad if he could make jokes. "Wait, it's fucking blue. This isn't right. What if it's broken?"

"Does necromancy work?"

He winced again, rubbing his toes. "I'm not sure. I'm out of practice."

It was easy to forget that I was working, and tonight was no different. In fact, when I checked the time on my phone, I realized I was in trouble. Gabriel would likely text me any minute to ask where I was.

I rose from the chair, grabbing my bag on the way. "Are you okay? I mean, I kinda have to run."

He waved me off. "Yeah, I'm fine." His toe was actually blue which was a bit disconcerting.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'll stick around here for a bit, though. See you in class tomorrow."

I felt bad about leaving, but the thought of having to tell Gabriel that I'd been lying for the past month wasn't any better. I should have come clean about my sessions with Cameron long ago, but Gabriel had kept muttering about Cameron every once in a while. Clearly, he hadn't forgotten about that first incident even if we hadn't argued about it since. I sighed. Maybe it was time to tell him. This couldn't go on forever, and I lived with enough dishonesty these days. It was getting exhausting.

The bus seemed to take forever, and after about half the journey, my phone vibrated with an incoming message.

Where are you?

On my way home. See you soon. x

Home from where? Where have you been?

I shook my head. That was something he deserved hearing face to face.

The walk from the bus stop had me huddling in my coat. Hands buried deep into my pockets, I wished for February to be over.

Mist left my parted lips as I unlocked the main door to the apartment building and went inside. Warmth and the smell of stale alcohol greeted me, and I greedily soaked up the heat.

I met a few faces in the corridor which had me hiding beneath my hood. Gabriel still wasn't all that comfortable with people knowing that I visited him. I had a feeling a lot of the students on this floor had a vague suspicion of what was going on, but since Gabriel refused to come up to my room, we were out of options.

I knocked and tried the handle, finding the door locked. Standing back, I waited to see if he would open up or if he was somewhere else.

Heavy steps sounded from inside, sending a shiver of worry down my spine. He most likely wouldn't react well when he heard about my lies, but I had to tell him, there was no other way.

The lock turned but he didn't open. Breathing in deeply, I placed my hand on the handle. Here goes nothing.

His hair was wet from a shower, dripping onto his black jersey. A hint of stubble darkened his chin, and all I wanted was to feel that scratch as we kissed.

"Where have you been?"

I got out of my shoes as if everything were normal. It had to be. "I was at the studio."

"The studio? What?"

"Yeah. I'm Mr. McCain's assistant, remember?" Maybe I should have taken another route to address the issue, but it was hard to focus when Gabriel was looming over me.

"You fucking what?"

The shove came out of nowhere. It all went so fast that I barely reacted before I braced myself for the fall. Tiny pieces of gravel left by dirty shoes dug into my palms, stinging while I tried to understand what was happening. The door slammed shut, rattling the thin walls as if they were shivering with distress. How could I forget to close it? I knew he didn't want people to see.

"What are you doing?" I wanted to get off the floor, but his stance took the fight right out of me.

"What I'm doing?" The words were deliberately slow. Menacing. It wasn't a question that required an answer. "You've been lying all this time, choosing him over me, and here you are, exposing us like I knew you would. What the fuck were you thinking, Adam?"

Scrambling to get myself and my bag in order, I tried to process what to say. It seemed as if I'd been shoved back in time, reliving our first ever serious argument that had splintered our relationship for months to come. He was right, but also so very wrong. "I haven't chosen him over you. You're being irrational."

"I'm irrational?" The warning in his voice made me want to shut up and run away, but this was my boyfriend, not someone I should be afraid of.

"Yes. I don't want Cameron. I want you. You're my boyfriend. You're the guy I've loved for years."

His brown eyes softened—a remarkable change that made it easier to breathe.

"I know. I'm sorry." He offered his hand to help me up from the floor. I dusted off my clothes, buying myself some time before I would have to tackle the tension between us. A 'sorry' wasn't all that much after throwing me to the floor.

I took a tentative step forward. "I don't know how to deal with all this anger you're carrying around, Gabe."

He didn't respond. Instead, he grew rigid as if his body gradually turned into stone. His expression was solid, almost lifeless.

Discouraged, I took my time to decide what to say next. I had no intention of making the situation worse. "Gabe, please, I just don't want to be handled like one of your football buddies. I'm not strong like them."

His eyebrows twitched, but the rest of his posture showed no reaction. He didn't even blink.

I swallowed my unease, trying to think of a way to recover from this weird fight. But, no matter how I replayed the words that had passed between us, they failed to make sense. I didn't understand what he wanted from me. It was almost as if he had decided that we wouldn't work, and because of that would fight against us rather than for us.

"I'll go up to my room." I couldn't stand being so close but also so far at the same time. There was a rift between us, but it was a rift I couldn't touch nor see. It was just there, born out of nowhere.

I moved toward the door, but a firm hand around my arm stopped me. He squeezed his fingers deep into my muscles until I winced. "Stop it, Gabe. It hurts."

"This is your fault, and you haven't even apologized."

"I'm sorry for lying."

"I don't believe you. And you know what, if you don't get it, then get out." Gabriel's ice cold glare chilled me to my core. I would have stepped back if not for the way he still held me in a vise-like grip.

"Let me go."

He loosened his hold, one finger at a time, and I backed away with a hollow ache in my heart. This wasn't the way I wanted this evening to end. I'd had a great day up to this point, and all I wanted was to be greeted by a loving boyfriend, watch a movie and cuddle with all the warmth in the world. I wanted him to love me like I loved him.

"I'll go. We can talk about this later. We both need to calm down." I tried to be rational about it. Pressuring him obviously made everything worse.

He didn't say a word, staring at me with a gaze that spoke of bitter disappointment. I was about to give in and beg him to forgive me, but I had to make him see. I left the room, holding around my bruised arm that served as a reminder of everything that had gone wrong. Perhaps it was a stupid decision to walk away, but he had to understand that he couldn't manhandle me.

The door slammed shut behind me—an eerie echo from the time he'd thrown me out and made it clear never to return. Tonight, it had been my decision to walk away, but the emptiness inside me felt just as draining as it had back in June. I couldn't believe any of this had actually happened. How could we go from fine to not fine simply because of a small fight that had nothing to do with our relationship? Cameron had nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with our relationship. The lies were bad, but what was I supposed to do?

Pushing away the hurt, I walked away, hoping that everything would be better in the morning. Gabriel couldn't have meant what he'd said—he couldn't be serious.

I reached the room I shared with Chris and got inside, battling the pressure across my chest. He waved at me with a smile but continued to listen to Dante's voice coming from the laptop speakers. They used Skype to keep in touch while Dante was touring, but tonight, I wished that I could have been spared seeing them happy together.

I went through the motions while hearing them talk in the background, not listening to a single word they said to each other as I tried to temper my flailing emotions. I brushed my teeth, got into a T-shirt and slumped onto the bed—feeling alone despite the two voices mumbling sweet nothings in the background. Chris was too occupied with Dante to notice, but perhaps that was a good thing. I didn't want him to ask questions I had no answers to.

A new dawn, a new day, I told myself, closing my eyes and pulling the cover all the way up to my nose.