The restaurant is busy since it’s dinnertime. We were lucky to get a table, and I wait for Mackie to arrive. I can’t contain my smile. I haven’t been able to stop smiling after he texted me, asking to meet. Our time together has been like a dream. We cuddled most of the night before he went home, and I feel more alive than ever. Moving the knife and fork anxiously, I glance at the door until I see him. I sit up so fast, I bang my knees against the table, then I wave wildly. He smiles as he walks my way, and I swear my heart flips in my chest, my entire body waking up with his proximity.
Hurrying around the table, I pull out his chair for him. “Hi,” I say.
I lean in and kiss his cheek. When he flinches, I freeze, but he smiles and squeezes my hand as he sits. I push his chair in before returning to mine. “You okay? You didn’t reply last night.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” He rubs his neck awkwardly. “I had a few drinks with a friend,” he admits, and I nod as the waiter appears, then I order for us.
“The soup will be easy on your stomach after the alcohol,” I tell him, but I watch him nervously. Something is wrong. “We can meet another time if you need to sleep.”
He softens and smiles. “I’m right where I want to be,” he replies, and my smile widens.
“Me too,” I admit, relaxing. “You aren’t working today?”
“No, tomorrow instead,” he says, and he stares at his cutlery.
Something is off. I can sense it. Leaning over, I place my hand over his, even as my heart tightens, worried I did something wrong. “Look at me.” When he glances up at me, I smile. “What’s going on? Talk to me. I know something is wrong. You can tell me anything.”
He searches my eyes before he turns his hand over and lifts mine to his cheek. “Just let me hold you a minute before you hate me.”
“Hate you . . . Why would I ever hate you?” I respond, but when he sucks in a breath and looks at me, something inside me cracks. I recognize that look, even if I don’t know why.
He’s leaving me.
He’s had enough. Despite what we did, he doesn’t want me.
All the time we’ve spent together, all my hopes for the future crash before me as I look into his eyes.
“I like Noah.” The words make me blink in confusion. “I always have. I was—Iamin love with him. Before I met you, I found out he didn’t want me, and I was hurt and trying to move on, and then you came along. I needed you. You were like a breath of fresh air. You gave me another chance at happiness. You gave me a safe and comfortable place, and I’m so thankful for that. I thought I could move on with you and forget him, and I really want to, but after what we did, I felt so guilty, not just for him but for you, like I betrayed you because I loved what we did. I love spending time together and sharing our bodies, but he’s still in my heart. I got drunk and called him. He picked me up.”
Oh god. Sickness rolls through me as I stare at him. I tell myself to remain calm, to accept whatever he’s telling me. All I wanted was for him to be happy. If he is with someone else, then my job is done, but my chest hurts so badly.
“Everything came out, and he admitted he wanted me too. We kissed, and we did things . . . I didn’t sleep with him. I couldn’t do it without talking to you, but he’s done pushing me away. He wants to date me. He wants me, and I want him.”
I was right. He’s leaving me.
My world crashes down around me, the restaurant disappearing as I stare at him. I try to pull my hand away, but he panics and holds on tightly. “But I still want you. I still want you, Conan. I never meant to pull you into this messed-up relationship, and I never meant to let you into my heart, but I did, and I can’t get you out. Even when I was with him, I thought about you, and it’s killing me. I tried to push him away. I feel so guilty, selfish, and angry at myself, but I like you too. I like both of you, and I can’t let either of you go. I told him that. He said he doesn’t mind as long as you don’t. He wants me however he can have me, even if it means sharing me with you. I know it’s messed up, and you can hate me forever and leave, but I want it too.”
“Want what? Tell me,” I demand. “Tell me so I don’t misunderstand what’s happening.”
His eyes sparkle with unshed tears, and even now, I want to pull him into my arms and make everything better. “I want to date both of you. I care about you and Noah, and I don’t want to choose. It’s mean, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen.” He releases my hand. “So now you know it all. You can do whatever you want to me. I deserve it.”
As I stare at him, I know I can’t do anything to him.
He looks so scared and broken, it makes my chest ache.
I’m hurt, I’ll admit that, and confused, but as I look into his scared eyes, I know I’m like Noah. I can’t walk away either. I understand why Mackie didn’t tell me, but it changes something, and I don’t know if we can get back to how we were. But he’s here now, and if I walk away, I’ll lose him forever.
When I’m with him, I feel alive again, and I don’t know if I can let that go. I don’t know if what he’s suggesting will work or if I can accept it, but if the other choice is losing him . . .
Breathing through the pain, I force a smile onto my lips, knowing it’s probably fake as hell.
“I don’t hate you, Mackie,” I admit, and he looks up at me so anxiously, my smile becomes real. “I don’t think I could if I tried. Youdidn’t mean for this to happen. No one did. You can’t help who you fall for. I’m just glad you told me and still want me.”
“What does that mean?” he asks quietly.
“It means . . . Okay, let’s try. Try dating both of us. I’ll need to meet with Noah and you and talk things through, but I guess some part of me always knew there was something going on. I could tell, but I ignored it. We aren’t in a relationship, Mackie, so you don’t need to feel guilty, but I’m glad we are talking about this.”
“You . . . You still want to date me?” He looks so hopeful
