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“So, you want me to stay because your son has feelings for me?”
Edwin’s face sours. “That’s not…not the whole reason.”
I look down at my bowl of ice cream. It’s getting all melty. I push the bowl away with a sigh.
“You don’t feel the same for him?”
Of course I do. But I don’t speak.
Because I feel that way for someone else too.
“I’m sorry, I thought–”
“I work for you.” I bite back on frustration. “I work foryou. And I work forNate.”
Edwin hesitates, but then concedes. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m crossing a line here.”
How can I blame him? We’ve spent so many months pretending like I’m a part of this family. Spent so many months falling into familiarity with each other. Not just Nate and me. But Edwin, and Sonia, and Jack, and Abigail.
I’ve become a part of the landscape. Something that everyone is afraid to lose.
If I walk away, will I be able to survive losing it too?
“You know, Laney, I just want what’s best for Nate,” Edwin’s, voice strains with emotion. “I don’t want you to feel held hostage by his feelings. But for now, can we just agree you’ll remain on board to work with him until he has the confidence to get back to surfing?”
My eyes pinch with tears.
I hate making Edwin feel awkward. That he’s said something that has changed everything for me.
It hasn’t changed anything, just brought the truth to the service.
Nate loves me.
And I…
Oh god, I love him too.
I cannot remain here like this. But it’s midnight, and we are in the kitchen, and I have nowhere else to go. So, I say, “Yes, of course.”
Edwin smiles, seeming relieved. “Brilliant. You’ll see a pay bump reflected in your account next week and–”
“You don’t have to do that, Edwin.”
“Of course I do, Laney. You have no idea what your presence and work has meant for all of us. All of us.” There’s raw adamance in his voice.
I stepped into the Lyons fold, a confusing and messed up little microcosm of the world. Where my patient was my ex-boyfriend’s best friend, and his estranged father was my boss, and my patient’s ex-girlfriend was his father’s new girlfriend.
It’s all too complicated to piece together even if I had a corkboard and red string.
I guess it only makes sense that my presence in this fucked-upedness would create further complications.
It’s not just that I’ve fallen in love with my patient. With my ex’s best friend.
I love my ex too.
I want them both an equal amount.
And something must be wrong with me for that.
