Page 155 of With the Assist

“And not all love requires that kind of sacrifice,” she continues. “Not the kind you’re talking about.”

“I didn’t know he loved me,” I admit, swiping at my face even though it doesn’t do much. “When he said it changed for him, I didn’t realize how much it had.”

“Wesley,” she says, softer now, “you know I’ve always got your back, but that man looks at you like you’re the only thing worth his attention. Did you really not know that was love?”

She pauses, just long enough for it to settle.

“Or did you just not let yourself believe it?”

My breath hitches as memories flash through my mind, one after another, right up to our last night together. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to push them back before they can drag me under again.

I don’t answer because the truth hurts too much to say out loud. The truth that I knew.

I saw what it was becoming, but I ignored it, desperate to let myself have something. Desperate to hide behind our stupid, fake boundaries and benefits, even when we both knew they didn’t mean shit.

I wanted him to want me for real. And I let him want me, knowing exactly how it would end.

My skin crawls, and if I could escape myself, I would.

He should hate me.

“We were always going to end like this,” I say, trying to stomach it. “I couldn’t risk it.”

I need her to understand. I need someone to tell me I didn’t just make the biggest mistake of my life.

She doesn’t do that. Instead, she lets me keep going.

“I can’t lose everything I’ve worked for,” I say, my voice steadier now, even if it feels like I’m forcing it. “My family, my career, everything depends on me staying focused. I don’t get to choose me. Not right now.”

Harper tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, her thumb brushing under my eye in a failed attempt to fix my smudged mascara before she gives a small, resigned shrug.

“Just a few more years,” I add, pulling back slightly, nodding like I can convince both of us. “That’s all I need. A few more years of being all in, and then maybe…”

I trail off.

Maybe what?

Maybe Nathan will still love me?

The thought feels ridiculous even as it crosses my mind. I could never ask him to wait. I’d never want him to.

He deserves someone who chooses him every time and without hesitation.

Harper is quiet for a moment, letting everything settle.

“You’re sure about this?” she asks finally.

No.

I want to knock on his door and take it all back. I want to be wrapped up in his arms, to laugh with him, to eat pizza on his couch doing nothing, to run the bleachers with him until we’re both breathless and grinning.

But responsibility matters. Consistency matters. And I’ve spent more than ten years putting myself last. I don’t know how to do anything different.

“Yes,” I say.

And this time, the lie can’t break me. I’m already in pieces.

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