Chapter Thirty One

Simon

I pour a glass for both of us and sit back. I move up the bed and lean on the sturdy bed frame. Marcus follows suit, and we sit beside each other, sipping our wine. What Marcus had shared with me was a lot to digest. I know he skimmed over the gory details of his torture and I was grateful he spared me the details because otherwise, I don’t know what to do with the impotent fury I feel whenever I think about what David did. I feel responsible; if it wasn't for me, they wouldn't have met, and he wouldn't have suffered at the hands of that sadistic bastard. I wish he had let me know he was fine, and I was still hurt he hadn't, but I also understood where he was coming from. His mental state had been fragile when David took him, and I can't even begin to imagine what damage the suffering and torture had wrought on him. He looks so strong now, and I am immensely proud of him. Looking at him now, it frightens me that I have nothing to offer him anymore, and that thought shames me. Bec