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“You made it really obvious how you see things last night, and I got the picture. Do I think you’re making a mistake? Yeah—you are. But do I think a doorman could change your mind, no I fucking don’t.”
“Drew, you’re not just a doorman…”
“Oh, I know that, Olivier. I’m very fucking aware of that. And as big of a dick as you are, I know you’re aware of it, too. But I’d put up any failure of mine to anything you’ve ever done in your privileged life and still be able to say I gave it everything I had.”
“You’re right. You’re a better man than I am?—”
“That’s not what I said.”
“But it’s true,” I say, so earnest it hurts. “By literally every measure, you beat me by a mile. I was freaking out last night when I saw Elodie like that. I had no clue about her dad, and it scared me. And everything you were saying was giving me even more things to be scared about, and I was trying to shut you up, so I said what I said, and it wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair at all. It was dismissive and shitty, and I get that. So, with all that being said, I’m sorry, Drew. I know you were only trying to help.”
Drew considers my words. Me. He swallows and then looks away. “Fine. Apology accepted. Is there anything else?”
“That’s up to you,” I whisper, echoing the words he said to me last night before he left.
He takes a deep breath that makes him seem exhausted in a way I can’t even comprehend. “Let me ask you this, then… Can you imagine any universe where you don’t marry Elodie?”
When a fully formed response pops immediately into my mind, I nearly choke on it because for one, crystal clear second, I recognize three life-changing things at once: This is what it means to be vulnerable. I am only granted one life on this earth, and I am in love with Andrew Riley. I clear my throat and say exactly what’s on my mind. “Would that universe include you?”
He works his jaw and finally lets his eyes track back to my face. “That might end up being the only one that does.”
“So it’s you or her? An ultimatum? God, I might start getting used to these.” I whirl around and pace a few steps.
“It’s not—no. But I don’t like being bought and paid for. It’s hard enough to work uptown and see all the things I wanted but can’t have every single day because people were born better than me.”
I stop walking, but I keep my back to him while I listen.
“It’s bad enough that I’ve managed to internalize all that. I hate the way I feel up there. And I hate myself for not being able to be happy with what I do have. I think I was a coward to take you up on your offer to stay here another month. I wasn’t ready to leave, either, but now I don’t trust this. I don’t trust myself. And I’m not sure I trust you.”
My body goes still as another chill, colder than the wind outside, rushes through me.
“I’m not as strong as I look, Olivier.”
I know. “I know,” I say out loud in a whisper, turning to face him.
His lips are pulled into his mouth and the edges around them are white. His eyes are on the floor, and his arms are folded tightly against his chest like they’re the only things keeping him together. He’s as broken now as he was when I met him.
I thought at the time that I’d been the one to break him, but the more I’ve gotten to know him, the more I realize there’s something deeper and darker inside him he doesn’t want me or anyone to see.
Whether it’s shame or something more profound like self-loathing, I don’t really care. I just want to take some of the burden of it off his shoulders, but I’m relatively certain he doesn’t think I can handle it. It doesn’t stop me from wanting to try, though.
“I wasn’t offering to buy you, you know. I was trying to buy more time for us. The fact that actual money had to be involved complicates things for you, which I think I understand, but the intention wasn’t to put an obligation on you. I never meant for you to feel like I felt entitled to you. I just wanted a chance.”
“A chance for what?” he asks, his words whispered and somehow shattered.
“To keep you,” I say, just as softly.
The full force of his blue gaze hits me. “Why?”
“Because losing you isn’t acceptable.”
“Why?” he asks again.
“Is there something specific you need to hear me say?”
“Kinda—yeah.”
“Like…I’m falling in love with you, too?”
