James drew back enough to smooth Matthew’s hair away from his forehead. “Have you wished me gone?” he said teasingly. “No. Only I wish myself gone, sometimes,” Matthew said in a whisper, and it was that rarest of things where Matthew was concerned, an entirely true statement with no mockery or teasing or humor to be had.
It is too early for me to be dealing with Matthew Fairchild's trauma. I can't. I simply can't.
