“See ya, Dad,” I say, leaving the house I spent two weekends a month in for so many years. The place I witnessed men lose everything and temporarily gain something from poker parties my dad threw. Here I was leaving with a temporary gain, and I’m not elated like the usual men, instead I’m disheartened at my own actions. I’ve betrayed the one I love, the one I promised I wouldn’t fuck this up.

DEX SNUGGLES INTO me, his cold hands brushing against my shoulder when he pulls the blanket over us. It’s been two days, and, although I’m happy, something shifted that night I made him dinner, and I’m not sure what it was. He’s still attentive, driving me to work on the days he has late class. It’s hard to describe, but there’s this little wedge between us that wasn’t there before that night.

I felt it when he returned to his room. Just like tonight, his cold body slid against mine, nuzzling into my neck. I heard his inhales and sighs. The only difference between that night and this one is I had turned around. I had asked him what was wrong, what had happened at his dad’s. He just shook his head and said nothing, but there in those eyes that shined so bright the two days earlier, were a little dimmer, a little removed from us. He distracted me with his roaming hands, and his lips maneuvering over my body. I allowed him to lie to me, deceive me from whatever it was he felt he had to hide. Although it scared me to my core, somehow I believed he’d divulge it to me. I was sure in time, Dex would come clean, and my only fear was it could be something we couldn’t get through together.

The charade hasn’t stopped, but instead of asking or demanding he share, I act as though I’m asleep when he slips into bed with me tonight. Forcing my body to stay limp and my eyes to remain shut while the despair of what we are slowly becoming stays constant under my skin with every touch of his hand. As always, he nuzzles and inhales. Sighing. This time, however, he speaks. “Please don’t hate me,” he whispers. That’s when I know, I can’t let this go on further.

I gradually turn around, wiggling my body out of his embrace. Then repositioning myself to lie facing him, I allow his hand to cup my face and his thumb to mindlessly glide back and forth along my cheek. “Why would I hate you?” I ask him, and his eyes never leave mine.

I watch him swallow a huge gulp and then maintaining eye contact, he reveals the big secret. “I made a bet.” I bite my lower lip, waiting for more because I can guarantee there is. “I still gamble, Chris,” he admits, and hearing the truth, my heart sinks with what I had already suspected.

“Why?” I ask, trying to remain calmer than I did all those years back.

He shrugs his one shoulder. “It’s easy money to me. Makes my dad happy.”

“Does it make you happy?”

“I’m not going to lie, it did at one time, but now—with you, it just feels wrong.” He moves his hand to my hip and tugs me a little closer. “I’m sorry, I should have told you sooner, but I’m done.”

“Is that where you went on Monday night?” I clarify.

“Yeah. My dad dug into sports betting when he got laid off back when I was in high school. It wasn’t until my sophomore year of college that he told me about it and asked for my help with clients.”

“Oh, Dex,” I sigh. I had always thought Mr. Prescott was so much better of a father than to get his kid mixed up in the twisted life of gambling. Fear rises that Dex is like my father, but I have to remind myself how much more Dex has ever done for me than my father.

“At first, I loved it. Kids were eager to make a quick buck, and I was some big man around the house. My dad was always praising me and telling me how much he loved me.” His eyes shift down and then back up. Now they’re filled with sorrow and sadness. “By junior year of college, the pressure increased. I told him I had to take a step back and concentrate on my classes. It was going pretty good so he said okay. He got this Pete guy to take over. I did still bet but only on the games I wanted to and I was fairly positive I would win. It was nice being a college student, playing in the band and just having a good time.”

“So, how come you’re back helping your dad?”

“Because Pete left and confiscated a ton of clients. My dad called me over to woo them back. Then he asked for the first time in two years to pick a bet.” His shoulder falls into the pillow, and my pulse beats fast with the expectation he’s going to tell me he lost all of his money. “We won, but I’ve never not enjoyed a win or even the game like this time. This whole betrayal to you made me feel guilty.”

“Oh, sorry to be the party pooper,” I tease and a small smile begins to form.

“That’s not what I meant—” he argues.

“Dex?”

“Yeah?” I tuck my hands under my head and admire him for being so honest with me. It’s refreshing to anything previous I’ve experienced with my dad.

“Do you want to quit?”

“Chris—” he begins to plead his case, but I hold my hand up for him to stop.

“Hear me out, Dex. Take me out of the equation. Do you really want to stop the betting?” I scoot to the headboard, and he follows my movement, but sits up in front of me.

“That’s impossible. I can’t take you out. You’re the reason I want to quit.”

“Then I don’t want you to,” I say, and his forehead scrunches, and he cocks his head to the side.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

I shake my head. “I don’t want you to resent me someday, but I’m not sure I can stick around if you continue to gamble either.”

Inching forward, he grabs my hands. “That’s what you aren’t hearing. Maybe I would have continued if you wouldn’t have come back. I don’t know. But, because you did, you make me want to stop. It’s an easy choice, Chrissy. You’re an easy choice.” He smiles, and I bite the inside of my cheek.

My heart flutters because no one has ever chosen me over something else. “Dex, I don’t know.”

“Chris, I would never resent you. As long as you’re in my life, I don’t need anything else.” Tears prick my eyes, because no one has ever said they needed me, let alone felt that way about me. “Why are you crying?” He comes closer, but I scoot back, my head hitting the headboard.

“Don’t say anything else.” I wave my hand in front of my face to dry the tears.

“Why? Chris?” he continues pushing for me to confess.

I sit there trying to collect my thoughts as the world around me shifts. As though I feel the axis positioning me on a better course. That course being Dex. I wish I could leap on to it and allow it to take me where I want to go, but what if it doesn’t? What if I end up crushed?

“You’re words scare me,” I admit, and this time he doesn’t accept the distance. Grabbing me by my hips, he raises me up and then seats me on his lap.

“They’re supposed to make you happy. I’m supposed to make you happy,” he says.

“You do. But what—”

“Stop it, Chrissy. I’ve done enough ‘what if’s’ to last us until our dying days. We’re done with that shit. Now it’s I love you, kiss me, hug me, and your mine time. Got it?” He winks, his eyes void of the guilt from the past two days, being replaced with the love he’s so willing to give me.

I smile, and he takes his fingers pushing my lips further. Once I’m almost laughing, he smiles. “Better,” he remarks. “So what will it be first?”

I tilt my head to the side. “Kiss me, hug me, f—” he begins suggesting.

“Let’s start with hug,” I direct him, and he wraps his arms around my waist, tugging me close, securing me into the warmth of my home.

His head nuzzles in the crook of my neck, exactly where he likes it. “Come with me tomorrow?” he murmurs in such a low voice, I barely hear him.