Gerry pulled himself up and perched on the edge of the bed. “Of course—”
“And yet you’d leave me to swim alone in a lake full of flesh-eating, soul-sucking piranhas?”
And how was it that Gerry had been pleading God for silence, yet as it settled through the room, it now seemed heavy enough to suffocate him?
“Your words,” Mark said quietly. “Not mine.”
Gerry lowered his eyes. Mark was right—they werehis words. No wonder Mark looked so wounded. How ignorant had that sounded? To insist that the pressure was too much for him, but throw Mark back out there alone? As if Mark wasn’t feeling pressure himself? It had to be a hundred times worse than anything Gerry had to deal with.
The lock Mark clasped on their gazes when Gerry finally lifted his head was unbreakable. “I’m sorry,” Gerry whispered.
“I know.”
“I really do love you.”
Mark nodded. “I know.”
Gerry’s knees shook so hard he was worried about standing. He did it anyway. “Do you forgive me?”