53
KATIE
Istart to panic when I get home that night. I said no. I said no to Tristan and it nearly killed me. I pace in my tiny living room, just five steps to the wall and then back, and my stomach is so knotted that I can’t eat dinner.
I did the right thing. I think.I would have settled for less than love with him and I didn’t. I should be proud.Why do I feel so sick, then?
I try to watch a documentary, but it just reminds me of Tristan and the last time he was here, his presence taking up the room.
I take myself up to the roof and I hug a pillow to my chest and I watch the stars. I think about the first time I told David I had a crush.
My girl,he said on a sigh.I worry so much for you. I worry that you’ll love too easily and be hurt.
Why?I asked.
And then he went on to explain, in his gentle, thoughtful way, that he was worried I hadn’t had enough love and I’d try to find it in the wrong places. How he’d wanted so badly to be a father that when he brought me home, he neverstopped to consider that maybe just one parent with a job like his wasn’t enough. He explained that he started taking me on jobs to bring us closer together, and to keep me from being alone.
It worked,I told him.I don’t feel alone.
At least I didn’t. And then he died.
“I met someone,” I tell the sky. “I met someone and he means everything to me and he has for a long time and I’m so scared. I’m terrified I’m looking for love in the last place I should seek it, and that it will destroy me.”
The sky doesn’t respond.
“It doesn’t work out, right? Friends who try to turn things into more never work out. I should be grateful to have friendship with him. I shouldn’t want more.”
I focus on the constellations I can name—all the ones David loved—Ursa Major, Ursa Minor, Orion, then the brightest stars. I repeat them in my head to block out the fears.
“I think I did the right thing,” I tell the stars. “I said no to him. He doesn’t want love.”
My voice cracks on the last word.
“I do, though. I want it so badly and I want it with him, and I can’t bear the thought of being with him without having all of his heart.”
I squeeze the pillow more tightly to my chest, like I can cure the hurt.
The problem is, I’m not sure it’s fixable.
54
TRISTAN
“You’ve been distressingly short on updates,” Whit scolds over the video call the afternoon after my disastrous proposal.
Sienna laughs and starts penciling her other eyebrow. I can see directly up her nose.
“You should start plucking those nose hairs, Si-Si. It’s a forest in there,” I tease.
She gives me a slow middle finger and tilts the phone so I can see nothing but nostril.
“Love you too,” I mutter, but my chest is warm with genuine affection for my siblings. I’m in the stillhouse at Crownhaven, checking the barrels of Old Kingdom we distilled last year and making notes in my notebook for Mac.
“Updates, Tristan. Come on.”
My stomach sinks at the question I knew was coming when I started this call. I pass a hand through my hair. “I asked her to marry me,” I mumble. “She said no.”
There’s silence on the phone.
