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“That’s a lot of responsibility to have for someone. A lot of pressure.”
“It’s just… I know how much she hates it. Admitting there’s something… wrong with her.” He closed his eyes. “Or, I shouldn’t put it that way. Not wrong. Just, we spent so many years swearing we’d never be like them. We’d never be that fucking selfish. For me it was easier, maybe. I knew I’d never have kids. Never be in that situation. Claire. Christ. When she got pregnant with Nathan, she was eighteen. I thought, well, no problem, she’ll just get rid of it. But she fucking didn’t.”
Will’s voice wavered, and he bit his thumbnail.
“I don’t know why she didn’t. And obviously I love Nathan now. But, fuck, Leo. How could she—”
He bit his lip and shook his head and I moved across the couch to him. When he spoke again, it was so quiet I could hardly hear him.
“How could she mess them up this bad when she knows how much it fucking hurts?”
He took a deep breath, and when he spoke again it was like he was forcing himself to tell the other side of the story.
“It’s different. I know that. It’s completely, totally different. She loves her kids, and our parents didn’t love us.”
He stood abruptly and cleared our plates, though I wasn’t done with mine. The starkness of the sentiment left something stuck in my throat as I followed him into the kitchen, every molecule of my being wanting to make it better. To somehow find the right thing to say or do that could take a stitch in time and act as a balm to the kid who had one day come to the conclusion that he wasn’t loved by the people whose job it was to do so.
My own love for him bubbled against my lips, and I gritted my teeth to hold it back. It wasn’t the right moment, I knew. Hell, it probably wasn’t even the right sentiment.
Being loved by one person didn’t cancel out not being loved by another like a math equation.
“Look,” he said, his back to me. “Just… just don’t say anything, okay?”
It was like he’d plucked the thought right out of my head.
“I just mean… in case you’re about to try and convince me that my parents did love me, deep down, in some secret chamber of biological necessity or something, just… please don’t.”
I swallowed hard. “I wasn’t going to.”
“Good.”
He walked back into the living room without looking at me and busied himself with the fire.
“So, um, I think I’m going to do it. Go into business with Gus.” It was a clear bid to change the topic, and I was happy to let him.
“Yeah? That’s great. What changed your mind?”
“Well. Kinda you, actually. I was thinking about how you said that I cared a lot about my work. It’s true, I do. But sometimes I get so hung up on getting ahead in the business, or on one of my bosses approving of what I’ve done, or on how impressed people get when I tell them where I work and they’ve heard of it, or they ask what books I’ve done covers for and they’ve heard of them. So, really, that’s caring more about what other people think than it is actually caring about the work itself. If I do it, then I won’t have that recognition. There won’t be anyone to approve of the work or disapprove because I’ll be the boss.
“But I’ve already achieved all the shit I set out to do when I took that job. So now it’s time to do something else. To move forward. Challenge myself. Set new goals. I don’t know, seeing college and the city through your eyes—everything new and uncertain—reminded me what it felt like to be that way. To be excited about shit rather than to bend it to someone else’s desires.”
He looked embarrassed, but it sounded amazing. And the idea that I’d had anything to do with it made me buzz with happiness.
“That’s awesome!” I told him, sliding a hand up his arm. “I think you guys are gonna kill it. Besides, it’s like you told me about school. Don’t believe that the people in charge necessarily know what the hell they’re talking about. You know what you’re doing. You know when something’s good or not. Oh man, I’m so excited for you!”
Will’s eyes lit, and he crushed me to him, kissing me hard.
“Sorry,” he said, pulling back. “Shit, sorry! Thank you. For being excited for me. I just really missed that.”
And fuck, I still wanted him so much.
Wanted to be close to him—intimate. And things had changed. I’d changed. I couldn’t fall back into the same situation and expect not to get pulverized all over again. But maybe it didn’t have to be the same situation.
