“I’m not here to fix you, Beaumont. I’m here for you,” I reply softly. “I know I’m fucking up.” He doesn’t look at me. “I’m just . . . I think you were right, that time we spoke. Maybe Dom was, too. I repress things. I don’t know how to talk about it, and then it gets worse, and everything falls apart. And it wasn’t him that always fucked everything. Or Eden. I did it too. And I think . . .” He chokes. “I think I’m kind of an asshole.”
