Page 46 of Learn Your Limits

Chapter forty-four

Emiliano

The last text message I sent Reid plays over in my mind as I tidy my office after a grueling first week back.

Currently, my office hours have nearly doubled.

The colleague my department covered classes for last semester unfortunately had to officially resign, and we have yet to find a permanent replacement.

As busy as this first week back has been, I find the extra work to be a welcomed distraction, though I cannot say Reid isn’t always in the back of my mind.

Things have been tense between us. His messages are short—if he answers me at all—but I can’t blame him. Not after how I abandoned him at the gala.

I’m a mature and composed man. I should have set aside my feelings and been there to take care of Reid.

I shouldn’t have run away from him and left him in a situation where he was clearly panicking.

The unyielding spiral of emotions that ran through my mind aren’t what I remember most from that night.

Reid’s scared, teary eyes are what haunt me.

Leaving him is a mistake that will always follow me. One that I won’t dare to repeat if Reid will still have me.

Day after day, I live with this sinking pit in my stomach knowing that we truly could be over. All of the torment we went through, all of the progress we’ve made, the declarations of love shared between us, could be burnt to the ground because of my actions.

We haven’t spoken much other than a few texts, but I know he’s suffering too. I’m constantly torn between knowing it’s best to wait until he feels comfortable speaking with me, and the burning desire to hold him in my arms and tell him he’s safe.

“Fuck,” I curse to no one but myself. Slamming my briefcase closed, I keep my hands on the smooth leather and lower my head, closing my eyes in frustration. My breaths are shaky, and my fingers tighten in the material beneath them as I grant myself a moment of fragility.

I’m exhausted, and I’m ashamed to say my patience is wearing thin. I miss Reid so dearly. A part of myself feels like it’s missing when he’s not around.

I need to make this right.

Glancing at my wrist, the clockface on my watch reads nearly ten p.m. It’s a Friday night, and I’m wallowing in self-pity in my office.

Maybe I’ll walk home tonight and take in the brisk night air. I wish a twenty minute walk didn’t sound so tiring right now. My body feels like it’s running on fumes.

I stand and sling my bag over my shoulder. Walk or not, I need to get out of this building. The gray walls feel like they’re suffocating me as I begin to rush down the hallway.

I pause for a moment, considering whether or not to stop by the staff lounge and brew a quick cup of coffee, but the thought of what is practically sludge touching my lips leaves me wincing as I make my way to the exit instead.

Coffee does sound nice, though. Just not that mediocre espresso.

Stopped outside the entrance of the building, I suddenly remember the coffee shop on campus that’s open at all hours of the day. Though not my frequent shop, as I usually just bring my own from home, the coffee there is decent.

I can already feel my body shivering, breath visible as I stand and contemplate my next move. Caffeine this late at night will certainly affect my sleep, but it’s not as if I have anyone to sleep next to at home or any exciting plans for the weekend.

I don’t contemplate for long. My feet are already leading me toward the shop before my mind can finalize a decision. A steaming hot cup of coffee on a cold January night walk home—a comfort for my self-appointed torture by freezing.

A bell at the top of the shop door chimes as I make my way into the coffee shop. The door closes behind me as I take a moment to shake off the cold. While not coziest of aesthetics, the interior of the coffee shop is modern but still welcoming.

Only a few tables are occupied this late in the night, and I’m assuming most students have a welcome back party to attend tonight.

The counter is empty once I make my way through the dining area. A silver bell with a note reading “ring for service” greets me before I begin to read through the menu. I’m in need of something hot for this cold night, but the thought of a plain black coffee does not appeal to me.

A few winter seasonal options are listed, so I decide on a latte flavored with cinnamon, caramel, and topped with crystalized brown sugar. As I retrieve my wallet, it dawns on me that the flavors I chose are the exact ones on the churro Reid thoroughly savored on our vacation.

Everything always comes back to him.

Ringing the bell, I use the sound as a reset of my thoughts, knowing there’s not much for me to do than to wait for when he’s ready to meet again.

“I’ll be right there,” a familiar voice calls from a room in the back of the shop, stunning me so suddenly that my wallet drops onto the counter with a soft thud.

I must be mistaken. My mind has been drained so much from this week that it made me believe the voice I heard belonged to Reid. My body stays still, but my eyes are trained on the service door where the voice came from.

“Sorry, I was cleaning up a spill in the—” Reid emerges from the back, tying a black apron around his waist. His eyes widen as they land on me.

He's dressed casually in a dark gray t-shirt and jeans, his auburn hair tousled as though he has been running his hands through it.

Dark circles rest under his amber eyes, hinting at exhaustion.

“Milo?” His voice is soft, like he's just as unsure as I am as to whether or not I'm truly standing before him.

A blush rises to his cheeks as he mutters, “What are you doing here?” His eyes blink shut as he winces.

“Shit. Right, coffee.” He takes a few cautious steps toward me, his hesitancy screaming of embarrassment.

“What uh—” he stammers. “What can I get for you?”

“A medium hot cinnamon swirl, please.” My reply is automatic as my brain still works on processing the information from this impromptu meeting.

Reid is here before me, working late hours while he has a full course load ahead of him.

If he’s looking this tired now with the minimal schoolwork that comes with syllabus week, I can’t imagine how much he might struggle once assignments pick up.

“Will that be for here or to go?” Reid asks, his eyes softening, lips turning into a frown like he’s pleading for me to stay.

“For here, please. I’ll take it at the counter,” I plead in return, my fingers trembling as I tap my card to the scanner.

It’s a slow night, the few people that are here are far away from the counter.

Maybe we can talk. Maybe I can convince him to let me help, to let me care for him and make up for leaving him in a moment of weakness.

“So you've got extra courses to manage this semester, hm?” he asks, attempting to make conversation. His gaze is trained on his motions as he prepares my drink. He must see a similar fatigue in me.

“Yes,” I answer as I sit down on the stool closest to him. I refuse to look away from him, fearing he might disappear again. “But the extra courses aren’t what has been keeping me up this late.”

“Oh. What has?” His eyes finally meet mine as he places my coffee in front of me.

I’m quick enough to reach forward and wrap my fingers around where he holds my coffee.

A radiating warmth begins in my hand, traveling up my arm, and I know it has nothing to do with the hot mug.

It’s only been a few weeks since we’ve been apart, but my body knows his.

My soul knows his, and being apart during that time has felt more like years than days.

“You keep me up at night, Reid,” I confess, my eyes never straying from his. “The way I abandoned you… I am so sorry.”

He sighs. “I'm sorry, Milo. I'm sorry for flinching away from you, for not being strong enough that night to tell them how I feel about you.” His eyes are brimming with tears as they search mine. “Watching you walk away from me…”

The muscles in my chest pull tight, bracing to hear the heartbreak I’ve caused Reid.

“It hurt, but it also gave me the courage to do what I should've done at the gala. I told them, Milo. On Christmas.”

Tilting my head in curiosity, I’m taken aback from Reid’s statement.

More guilt builds realizing I wasn’t there to support him during what must have been a difficult conversation.

But the greater feeling of astonishment overpowers everything, thinking of the courage it must have taken for him to reveal his truths.

“And how did they react?” I ask, my grip on his hand tightens, and I move my thumb in soothing circles near his wrist.

Reid's gaze drops to our hands. “It doesn't really matter anymore.

According to my father, I'm no longer part of that family.” The laugh that escapes him lacks any trace of humor.

“I don't think my mom agreed with me being cut off, but I haven't heard from her either.” He pulls in a deep breath.

“It wasn't just me being with you that pissed him off, though.

I told him I didn't want to be part of the company, and he lost it.”

“Well, I rescind my statement about not fighting him.” My comment earns me a true laugh.

One that sounds exhausted and not full of his usual cheer, but it warms my heart just the same and leaves me laughing along with him.

None of this is truly a laughing matter, but I think we are both at a stage of deliriousness from our respective woes.

My work will always be strenuous, it’s something I can handle. But Reid… He’s been through so much within the last few weeks, struggling to keep himself afloat after being disowned from his family.

I silently vow to be all the family he needs.

“I've really missed you, Milo. I hate being away from you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Muneco.” With a soft smile, I finally let go of his hand, no longer worried he will disappear again. “Can I please stay and keep you company?”

“I'd love that, but I'm here for at least another hour. I'm sure you need to head home and get some sleep. If I had a choice, I'd much rather be in bed right now.” He shrugs.

“An empty bed has no appeal to me. What I desire is not there.” Moving my coffee toward me, I wrap my fingers around the handle, looking over at Reid as I bring it to my lips. “And this smells too delicious to hurry through.”