Chapter 65

Cherriot held him for a long time, weeping like a heartbroken child.

He pressed his face into Yuri’s neck as he sobbed, soaking the skin near Yuri’s collarbone with tears. Yuri stroked his heaving back with aching tenderness, and Cherriot spoke through a voice blurred by grief, “Don’t say things like that…”

The whispered plea sounded so unbearably sad that Yuri could not answer.

“I’m the one who should apologize. You were hurt because of me.” Yuri wanted to tell him that the choice had been his own, but Cherriot would probably have cried even harder, so all he could do was continue stroking his back.

“Whenever I think about that day, I feel like I’m losing my mind.” Cherriot wept so violently that Yuri began to fear something might truly happen to him. “It feels like my chest is being crushed. It hurts so much, like someone is smashing my heart with a stone. I thought you were going to leave me like that. There was blood… There was so much blood…”

Watching Cherriot mumble like a man bereft of reason, Yuri decided never to raise the subject again.

Seeing that Cherriot had been as deeply shaken as he feared, perhaps even more so, made it feel as though Yuri’s own heart were being torn apart.

Cherriot could not calm down even when Yuri assured him he was fine. He finally stopped crying only when Yuri said he wanted his soup. From that day onward, Yuri no longer tried to prevent Cherriot from caring for him. He had realized that nursing Yuri was how Cherriot relieved some of his guilt.

Several weeks passed, bringing them to the present morning.

Yuri was well now. He was not yet as formidable as before, but after several months of taking care of his body and continuing to exercise, he would likely regain most of his former strength. Despite having spent so long unconscious, he recovered rapidly.

In many respects, he had been extraordinarily lucky. Perhaps he had drawn upon all the good fortune he had been denied throughout the rest of his miserable life. Because Cherriot’s family was wealthy, Yuri received surgery immediately. The operation, performed by some of Boston’s finest medical specialists, was successful.

The coma had not been expected, but Yuri could breathe without assistance, and his brain had suffered almost no damage. Eventually, he awakened. Even while he remained unconscious, a physical therapist hired by Cherriot worked to preserve his mobility.

After waking, Yuri ate well and rested properly.

Once his strength returned, he began rehabilitation to loosen his stiffened body and restore damaged muscle. Because his brain remained intact, his condition had not deteriorated to the point that he needed to relearn how to walk or control his movements. With continued therapy, he improved quickly.

Without Cherriot, such a smooth recovery would have been impossible. Yuri would never have received surgery in time and would likely have bled to death long before then. He owed all of it to Cherriot. As though providing him with far more generosity than he deserved were not enough, Cherriot had remained at his side throughout the entire recovery without missing a single day.

It felt as though Yuri had received an extravagant reward merely for sacrificing his worthless body. Perhaps it was strange to think of the recovery period as a reward, but throughout the month and more that had passed, Yuri had been happy every single day.

Right.

Happiness.

It was an emotion Yuri had never believed had anything to do with him, yet lately the word surfaced in his thoughts every day.

Each morning, when he opened his eyes to see Cherriot asleep beside him after keeping watch, or when he drifted off listening to Cherriot’s gentle, low voice reading aloud, something deep inside his chest fluttered so fiercely that it was almost unbearable.

That swelling, ticklish exhilaration ripened with every passing day.

At first, Yuri had not understood what he was feeling. By the time the emotion had matured enough to press heavily upon his heart, however, he finally recognized it.

He was happy.

Because he could be with Cherriot.

He loved that the first face he saw upon waking belonged to that beautiful man. He enjoyed watching Cherriot rejoice whenever Yuri showed another sign of recovering strength. Sharing a different meal together every day, never repeating the same dish, was fun, and best of all was glancing up unexpectedly to find Cherriot already watching him.

But you can’t be as simply happy as I am.

Concern always came first in the green eyes gazing back at him. Whenever Cherriot stared at him, Yuri first remembered the way he had looked at him beside the lake. Yet on closer inspection, Yuri found less of the yearning from that day and more worry and guilt. Once he realized that, his own happiness began to feel parasitic, as though it were feeding upon Cherriot’s remorse.

In truth, the situation was probably little different. Before the shooting, Yuri might have assigned several meanings to Cherriot’s gaze. Now, guilt was surely the strongest among them.

I wish you would start taking better care of yourself instead of me.

Yuri looked once more at Cherriot’s white feet in the grass, then met his eyes.

“It didn’t hurt.”

Even when he had been shot, it had not hurt that much.

“Cherriot, I’m fine now.”

The moments that brought Yuri closest to genuine pain were those in which Cherriot became as cautious as he was now. The carefree, spirited man had not smiled broadly enough to reveal the dimple in one cheek even once since Yuri awakened. The willful young man who had once thrown himself into a lake seemed to have hidden somewhere, refusing to appear before Yuri for the past several weeks.

I should never have let myself get shot in front of you.

Regretting time that could never be reversed, Yuri continued calmly, “I believe they explained this to you at the hospital. I’ve recovered from the injury. The gunshot wound healed some time ago, and neither my organs nor my brain sustained lasting damage, so moving around is perfectly safe. In fact, I need to keep moving if I’m going to regain my strength.”

His gaze dropped again to Cherriot’s bare feet.

The days were growing colder, and if Cherriot remained standing there, his feet would soon become chilled. Yuri was beginning to worry that he might catch a cold.

“But…” Cherriot’s lips moved uncertainly before his nose wrinkled in displeasure.

Ah. That expression.

The sight of an openly dissatisfied expression, something Yuri had not seen in some time, unexpectedly lightened his mood. Cherriot often became petulant whenever he made that face.

Cherriot pressed his lips together, struggling to contain the complaint before finally letting it slip. “You still aren’t as healthy as you were before.”

Although he was contradicting him, Yuri was so delighted by the show of displeasure that he laughed. A faint smile touched his usually cold, pale face, and Cherriot stared at him with widened eyes.

“I haven’t recovered enough strength to flatten you the way I used to.”

Wondering what might make Cherriot smile, Yuri attempted a joke, something thoroughly unlike him. It was closer to the truth than a joke, but he had offered the light remark while remembering their first meeting.

Cherriot blinked his pretty eyes and stared blankly at Yuri before gathering himself enough to protest. “When did you ever flatten me?”

“Have you forgotten already? The day you marched up to a complete stranger and asked him to lend you money.”

Cherriot raised his voice in emphatic denial, “As if I could forget! How could I ever forget the day I met you?” He insisted that he had never, ever forgotten, then tugged on the arm he still held, drawing Yuri closer. The careful touch, as though Yuri remained an invalid, irritated him, but he liked being nearer to Cherriot. “You didn’t flatten me, anyway. You only twisted my shoulder a little. Anyone hearing you would think I went down from a single blow!”

After pulling Yuri forward, Cherriot bent his head to meet his eyes and defended himself with desperate earnestness. Yuri listened quietly, pleased to see something other than worry on the face that had worn little else for weeks.

This feels a little like it used to. Like the days before I was shot.

“Right.”

From the moment he was subdued while defenseless, he had effectively been placed in the perfect position to be knocked down, but Yuri agreed with Cherriot anyway.

The calm concession brightened Cherriot’s expression further.

Seeing his green eyes sparkle without anxiety for the first time in so long lifted Yuri’s mood as well. Cherriot was not yet smiling broadly enough to reveal the dimple in one cheek, but even this relatively carefree expression felt precious.

“I don’t think you understand, but I can hold my own in a contest of strength. I’ve never been overpowered by another Alpha.”

Yuri nodded for the sake of the young Alpha, who appeared determined to boast about his physical prowess.

Cherriot belatedly seemed embarrassed by his own insistence. He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “Anyway, why are you awake this early? You need plenty of sleep if you’re going to recover.”

I keep telling you that I’ve recovered.

Yuri answered silently before offering an explanation Cherriot might accept. “I fell asleep even earlier than usual last night. I went to bed at nine, so I’ve had more than enough rest.”

Cherriot wrinkled his nose again. He still looked dissatisfied, but this time he did not argue. Instead, he asked another question, “Then why didn’t you wake me?”

“You need more rest. You’ve had a great many appointments outside the house these past few days.”

Cherriot had recently been meeting with his lawyers frequently in preparation for the trial.

From what Yuri had overheard from Dolly, Cherriot had been incapable of dealing with anything while Yuri remained unconscious and was now working through everything that had accumulated during that absence. There appeared to be a great deal to handle. Beyond cooperating with the investigation, he also had to attend weekly meetings of the extended family. Jackson Goodnight’s guilt was clear, but opinions within the family seemed divided over what should be done with him.

Cherriot had spent the entirety of the previous afternoon attending to business and had returned only after Yuri fell asleep. Had it been around dawn when Yuri faintly heard his bedroom door open and close? Cherriot ordinarily came home before Yuri went to sleep, so he must truly have been busy. Perhaps afraid of waking him, Cherriot had slept in his own room for once.

Usually, he sat beside Yuri and read aloud until he drifted off, slumped beside the bed as though it were his own. When Yuri awoke that morning and realized Cherriot had finally spent the night properly in bed, he deliberately let him sleep. He had even descended to the first floor without making a sound, hoping Cherriot would rest deeply. In the end, however, he had only driven him outside at an early hour to search for him.

“Being with you is more important than resting,” Cherriot answered stubbornly the instant Yuri finished speaking.

Yuri gave a quiet laugh and nodded. He wanted to reach up and stroke Cherriot’s hair, but that would have been far too intimate. His left hand twitched before he curled it into a small fist, then opened it again and forced himself to settle.

We may spend every day together, but that doesn’t mean the relationship between us has changed.

Cherriot had clearly said that the terms of his trust prevented them from having any special relationship. It was undeniable that Cherriot had once wanted more than friendship from him, and Yuri suspected he might still like him to some degree. Nevertheless, they had agreed to remain friends. The people around Cherriot were wary of Yuri’s presence at his side, and Yuri himself knew perfectly well that he did not belong in Cherriot’s world. After listening to Alexei, he had decided he might allow himself to want Cherriot a little, but that did not mean he expected some grand relationship.

He wanted only someone he could speak with occasionally. Someone with whom he might exchange news and maintain enough contact to see now and then. Even such a modest hope was more than someone like Yuri deserved. In the past, he would never have permitted himself to feel such happiness.

Since returning from the brink of death, however, he had become capable of showing himself a little mercy. Perhaps that had allowed his discipline to loosen. At moments like this, the desire to touch Cherriot rose without warning. Yuri had spent so long accepting Cherriot’s tenderness at face value that he seemed to have forgotten his place.

Reproaching himself, Yuri firmly suppressed the impulse. He restrained his twitching left hand and decided it was time to get Cherriot indoors. “I understand. Now let’s go back inside. You’ve been standing out here barefoot for too long.”

When Yuri met his eyes and spoke quietly, Cherriot nodded obediently. His mild green gaze swept over Yuri once before he released the arm he had been holding. A powerful sense of loss surged through Yuri. “You’re coming inside too, aren’t you?” Cherriot turned halfway back toward the house as he asked.

Watching him wait for an answer, Yuri decided to postpone his morning exercise until the following day. He had already frightened Cherriot once and did not want to unsettle him further by announcing that he intended to go running. Missing a day or two would make no difference. Besides, once his body had completely recovered, he would lose his excuse to remain with Cherriot.

“Yes.”

“Then let’s have breakfast while we’re awake. I’ll make it.”

Yuri knew he ought to regain his strength as quickly as possible and return to Vancouver. Yet whenever he saw Cherriot’s smiling eyes fixed upon him, his resolve weakened. Even after beginning to walk ahead, the younger man immediately turned to check whenever Yuri failed to follow. Yuri could not bear to imagine leaving him alone.

In truth, Cherriot would manage perfectly well without him. Yuri simply wanted to believe otherwise.

🜼 🜼 🜼