"Robert," David said quietly, "did you know that guy?" He watched as Robert's chest rose and fell rapidly, his eyes wide. David could see the worry forming, a visible struggle in Robert's normally guarded gaze.
Finally, Robert shook his head, his voice barely audible, "No."
David's brow furrowed. The air between them thickened with the lie, and he could feel it. But he didn't want to confront Robert just yet. He replied in a low and steady voice, "You sure?"
Robert didn't answer. His gaze flickered toward the front door and then back to David. It wasn't fear in the traditional sense, David thought, but something deeper, something that unnerved him more.
The silence was filled only by the frantic thumping of David's own heart. He stepped closer. "Robert, talk to me. Please."
Robert's breath caught in his throat. He closed his eyes for a moment, let out the breath he'd been holding, then opened them to meet David's gaze. David saw the flicker of resignation cross Robert's features.
"I knew this was a mistake," Robert muttered, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. He turned his head, avoiding David's gaze. "Getting close to you. Letting any of this happen."
David's expression tightened. "Do you really think so little of me?" He asked quietly, stepping closer.
"No." The answer came immediately. Robert tried to take a step back. "That's not it. I just..." He looked at David, but the words seemed to stick in his throat. He looked away and muttered to himself, "I should've kept my distance."
He glanced at David for a brief moment before turning away again. "You shouldn't be involved in any of this. I-" He paused to take a deep breath, "The person you think I am... that isn't me." His voice was barely a whisper. For the first time, David saw a faint sheen of tears in Robert's eyes.
David tried to think for a moment: what past was he so ashamed of?
He thought of Robert's confession in the park; the line he'd crossed. Was that it? Was Robert so haunted by the mistakes that cost him his world? Was he terrified that David would judge him or leave him, just like his family had?
David stepped even closer until he was right in front of Robert. His gaze softened, but his voice remained steady. "Robert, listen to me," he said, reaching out to gently hold Robert's face. "I know something's wrong. I know you've been carrying it by yourself for a long time." He stopped for a moment before continuing, "Maybe I don't understand all of it. Maybe I won't. But I'm not going anywhere just because the truth turns out to be messy." His hands remained gently against Robert's cheek. "You don't have to do this alone anymore."
Robert's breath faltered as he looked into David's eyes. He swallowed hard, his throat constricting, the unshed tears making his eyes glisten. "It's not just the past," he murmured. "It's the present too. You've seen them- the men who follow me. They're not just anybody. They're part of something bigger, something I've been running from for some time now. But I can't outrun it forever." He paused, swallowing hard again, his gaze darting away from David's. "There's a reason I'm here, but it's not just to be with you. I can't pretend that's all there is."
David was silent, his eyes searching Robert's face, trying to understand. The men who followed... Robert had always been so guarded, so alert-
He took a deep, steadying breath. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, "You don't have to pretend with me. I'm here, Robert. Whatever it is, I can handle it."
Robert looked down; the silence between them grew heavy. Slowly, he turned and sat on the couch. David sat beside him without a word.
Robert folded his hands together, his nails digging into the back of his hands. At last, he drew a long breath. "If I'm going to tell you," he said quietly as he looked at David, "I have to start at the beginning."