Or worse, disappointed in me.
As if Alex can read my mind, he says, "Continuing the conversation… Beck texted me this morning.”
My stomach tightens. "About what?"
"He wants to grab dinner this week. I’m going to tell him."
"About us?"
"About everything. He's not stupid. I don’t want him to guess before I tell him." Alex squeezes my hand. "I sent him a text last night saying I needed to talk to him."
I pull my hand free and look at him. "You did what?"
"Mollie."
"You can't just decide to tell my brother without talking to me about it first."
"I'm talking to you about it right now."
"After you already sent the text!"
He stops walking and turns to face me. Gordie continues ahead, oblivious, until the leash pulls taut and he sits down with a huff.
"I'm not going to tell him without you," he says with a sigh. "But I can't keep pretending at work that you're nobody to me. It's eating me alive."
His expression is so open and earnest that my anger deflates before I can fully inflate it. He's right, and I know he's right. It’s just that I hate when he's right.
"Fine.” I reach out to smooth one of his hoodie drawstrings into place. "But we do it together. And I get to decide when."
"Deal." He gives me a look that’s pure relief. He’s a good boyfriend, keeping my secrets for me against his better nature. He drops a kiss on my hand.
I feel guilty. I’m selfish, wanting to stretch this wonderful moment with Alex out as long as possible. But it’s clearly bothering Alex. As much as I dread telling Beck, we’re going to have to tell him, and soon.
We keep walking, holding hands. Gordie leads us down a side trail toward the waterfront, where the arboretum meets the marshy shoreline of the lake. The light here is different, filtered through a canopy of willows and cottonwoods, dappling the trail with patches of warm gold.
My ankle had started to ache around the twenty-minute mark. It's not bad yet, just the low hum of discomfort that means I should think about stopping soon. I don't say anything, but I do slow down. Alex slows his pace to match mine without commenting, which is one of the things he does that makes me want to kiss him and strangle him in equal measure.
It’s probably weird that his being considerate makes me feel so many things.
We find a spot near the water, where a pair of old benches face the lake. I unclip Gordie's leash and let him wade into the shallows. He belly-flops into the water with the grace of a collapsing building.
"Gorgeous Gord," I say, laughing. "You absolute disaster."
He rolls and dives, utterly oblivious to my regard. I sit down on the bench, pull the backpack off, and dig out the water bottles. Alex drops beside me, stretching his long legs out. For a minute, we just watch Gordie splash around, chasing minnows or possibly his own reflection.
"You should ice that when we get home," Alex says, nodding at my ankle. "A trimalleolar takes longer to calm down after uneven terrain."
I take a sip of water, frowning. Something cold moves through my chest. Awareness, perhaps.
"How do you know the name of my fractured bone?" I ask.
Alex takes a drink from his own bottle, looking away. "You mentioned it."
"You’re a terrible liar, Alex Thorne. How do you have so much information?"
“You’re going to be mad.”
I laugh. “What? Did you steal my medical record or something.”
