Page 115 of People Skills

‘You like me,’ I say, with a little huff of laughter. Like is such a small, nothing, childish word. Liking me is exactly why we’re in this mess. I’m obsessed with you, I want to scream at him. It’s an affliction, a burden, a curse. I’m half in love with you, no I’m more than that, I just can’t interrogate it because it’s too dangerous, too mortifying, to even think about. I dream about you. I’m like Lana, dreaming and cataloguing your body and soon I’ll be howling on the floor with your dumb cat watching.

‘I want to give this a chance,’ he says.

I shake my head. ‘It’s a bad idea.’

‘Why?’

‘Because being with you means either I have to lie to my boss and potentially mess up my job, or it means I tell the truth to my boss, and potentially mess up my job.’

‘So this is all about your job,’ he says.

‘Yes. It’s important to me.’

I can see him thinking, But you’re just an assistant, and, I swear, if he says that out loud, I will push the cake onto the floor. God, look at him, flitting about from bartending job to bartending job because he’s bored, not because he truly needs the work. He has no idea what it’s like to be vulnerable, financially, physically, emotionally.

‘So you’re mad that I haven’t figured out our future, but you’re also saying we have no future?’ he says, looking exasperated.

‘What I’m saying is that I have everything to lose and you don’t.’ And I need you to show me you care enough about me that losing it is worth it, I think, but I can’t say that. I can’t tell him what to say to make me trust him. He needs to feel it. He needs to say it.

‘I have things to lose,’ he says.

‘What?’

‘You. I don’t want to lose you.’

My heart lurches a little.

He steps towards me. ‘I want to be with you, Charlotte. Do you want to be with me?’

Of course I want to be with him. In his bed, in his arms, in this house. But how are we going to be together out there? And what is he offering? And do I even trust him to not take it away when he’s ready to move on?

‘What happens if we’re together, and it’s not enough like last time? And I blow my life up and you leave me like you left Lana?’

Bringing up Lana is a low blow, I know, but a perverse part of me wants to make this conversation as messy and unfair as possible, because that’s how this whole situation feels to me. Messy and unfair. I took in a man running from something. What’s to stop him running from me next?

I can see he’s annoyed.

‘This is different. We’re different,’ he says.

‘How? You said Lana made you feel like a project, and I have literally made you into my project.’

‘This is different.’

‘How?’

‘I like being your project.’

I don’t believe him. Or maybe I believe he thinks it’s different, but it’s not. Nothing is different here, for him, from his other relationships. I’m sure he liked them too. What did he say on that first day? He’s baked a birthday cake before. Maybe he made Lana the salted chocolate with ganache. Maybe he called her baby. Maybe he begged her too. Carried her into the bedroom. Maybe he’s just going through the motions. My heart is racing.

‘And what about you?’ he says to me, his voice rising. ‘Are you never going to be with anyone again because you don’t want to get hurt? Are you going to give Caleb that much power over your life?’ He folds his arms.

‘No. No. I just can’t be with you, specifically.’

‘Why?’

Because I’m in love with you, I think but don’t say. Because you have the potential to hurt me more than I’ve ever been hurt before. It was only three nights ago that Lana was standing right here in this house telling him she still loved him. He left her, and she can’t move on. I’m coming into this broken. He’ll leave me and I’ll be flattened. I’ve already made a huge mistake allowing myself to feel this much for him.

‘Because of my job, and your family. They all think you’re going to get back with Lana! That’s what they want! How do you think they’ll react when they find out you’re sleeping with your mother’s lowly assistant?’