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“I’m scared of the way he makes me feel,” I admit.
“That means it’s real.” She gives me a sad smile. “Have you talked to him?”
“No.” I shake my head, letting out a slow breath.
“And nothing has happened between the two of you?” she asks, gaze locked on mine.
“We kissed, once—well, technically twice—but only the first one was really a kiss, and afterward we agreed it shouldn’t have happened. That’s it.”
“It’s not always the physical that defines our feelings, Bree. There’s clearly something pretty intense going on between the two of you whether you’ve acted on it or not.”
“I don’t know what to do.” My voice comes out almost a whisper.
“Do you want to pursue whatever this is between the two of you?”
“I don’t know. I mean… I think I do.” I finally say the words out loud that have rang true in my mind for weeks. I want to be with Anthony, and not just as a friend.
“Then you need to be honest, with him and with yourself.”
“But what about Courtney?”
“I honestly can’t help you there. You know her as well as I do; your guess is as good as mine on how she’ll react to this.”
“I can’t hurt her.” I fight back the well of emotion in my throat.
“You might not be able to prevent it.”
“That just makes me feel worse.”
“I’m not trying to make you feel worse. You want my advice—talk to her. Court loves you, you know that. She wants you to be happy as much as I do. Maybe if she sees Ant is what makes you happy, she’ll be happy for you.”
“And if she’s not? Then what?”
“Then you’ll have a choice to make.”
“I don’t think I could bear to lose either of them at this point.”
“You need to talk to Ant first. Make sure it’s worth the risk before you dive in head first, make sure you’re on the same page. Because it’s not just you to consider, there’s Jackson too.”
“Trust me, I know.”
“I know you do. You’re a good mom, Bree. You always do what’s right by that boy.”
“I appreciate your confidence in me, but I’m not always so sure.”
“I am. You need to learn to have a little faith.”
“Ant told me about the fight, about his dad.” I completely change gears without warning.
“He did?” She seems somewhat surprised by this fact.
“He did. And it’s worse than we thought.”
“I suspected.” She shakes her head, a grimace on her face.
“He’s dying,” I say, quickly adding, “His dad.”
“What?” Her eyes widen.
