“How’s that good? From what I understand, jealousy isn’t the best characteristic of a person.”
He shrugged. “I don’t care because for the past few days, that is all I’ve been thinking about.”
“That I’m a newly jealous person?”
“How you were going to go off and meet someone else during your dates. Someone simpler. Easier for you and probably even smarter. And I was going to have to watch it happen,” said Josh. “I probably still am. But what you’re feeling right now is probably an ounce of what I have been dealing with while I tried to give you space to figure out how you’d play this.”
I swallowed as my throat seemed to close. I took a deep breath, trying to calm down my heart that really needed to chill out.
It was now or never.
I took a step forward, close enough that only a few inches separated us and the edge of the bed where he sat. The room felt impossibly small, filled with everything I hadn’t said and everything I was suddenly ready to.
“I want you so badly that I feel like I’m going insane, Josh,” I said, my voice raw with honesty. “You’re always there. Everywhere. In my thoughts when I wake up. In my writing. I hear your voice in the back of my head asking, ‘Why don’t you write anything fun anymore?’ Like you always used to.”
He looked up at me, his eyes softening.
“And I’ve been trying,” I went on, breath catching slightly, “even when it feels like the whole world is yellingscrew youto anyone who isn’t a doctor or a teacher or some perfectly polished adult with a benefits package and dental insurance. I’ve applied to a hundred terrifyingly boring desk jobs just so I don’t drown.”
“I know you have,” he said gently. “Your newsletter is amazing, Brielle. It’s funny and weirdly emotional, and it feels like … you.”
My heart stuttered. “You’ve read it?”
He gave a half smile. “I’m subscribed.”
Somehow, that simple admission made my chest twist tighter. I pressed my lips together to hold back whatever wanted to pour out next—tears maybe. Gratitude.
Josh shifted slightly, the air between us thick with all the things we hadn’t said until now. Then he asked quietly, “What about Brenden?”
I shook my head. “My story with Brenden ended a long time ago,” I said, and it felt true. Firm. “And honestly? That’s where it was supposed to end. He’s a good guy. But it was high school. It never became anything more than that.”
Something flickered across his expression. “Despite my sister’s well-meaning schemes.”
“Always so many well-meaning and chaotic intentions,” I said with a faint smile, though my voice wavered.
“I’m just …” I exhaled hard. “I’m scared of losing her. Of ruining the one constant person I’ve had. If things go bad between us—if this ends badly—what if everything else falls apart too?”
Josh stood slowly, closing the last of the distance between us. His hands came up to cradle my face, warm and steady, his thumbs brushing softly along my cheeks. “Hey, hey. Don’t cry.”
“I don’t cry,” I whispered, but my voice cracked. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you.” His eyes were searching mine now, serious and open. “It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to feel this. But I don’t want to be the reason you’re hurting.”
“You’re not,” I said quickly. “It’s me. It’s all this inside me. I’m making it complicated because, in my head, it is complicated. Wanting something so badly when you’re terrified of everything else falling apart? That’s a special kind of hell.”
“You’re not going to lose everything, Brielle.”
“How can you know that?” My voice came out sharper than I’d intended, my heart suddenly exposed like a nerve. “I’ve already lost so much.”
He stilled, something changing in his expression. It was as if he finally saw the full scope of what I’d been carrying all these years.
“I tried—I tried—to build a life that had meaning anyway. I worked hard. I pushed through.”
Josh didn’t speak. He didn’t interrupt. He just stood there, his hands on my face, holding me like I might shatter if he let go.
“I found Gina in school. She was loud and beautiful and didn’t mind how quiet I was. I clung to her like a lifeline, and she never once made me feel like I was too much or too little. She let me stay here. She and her parents let me stay in this house, inthis space, when I didn’t have anywhere else to go. When home wasn’t really home anymore. And this place … this house became something safe. Something warm. It was good with Gina.” I swallowed hard. “And it was good with you.”
Josh’s thumbs stilled on my cheeks.
