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He turns back to his crossword, occasionally asking for my advice on a clue. With each answer, it’s difficult to hold back everything I’ve done with his sister, the desire I still feel bubbling up every moment.
“What’s another word for monomania?” he asks.
I almost laugh. “Obsession.”
“That’s it! The final clue.”
Soon after, we go to bed. I take out my phone and navigate to mine and Harper’s email thread.
Are you still awake?
I can’t sleep, she replies almost right away.
Can I call you? What’s your number?
Yes…
She leaves her number at the bottom of the email.
It will take everything I have to force myself through this phone call, but it’s the right thing to do. We have to put it behind us. Harper has an unrequited love out there someplace. Maybe she’s only pursuing me to make this man jealous, whoever he is, or maybe she’s doing it because she doesn’t want to be alone.
Whatever the reason, Adam deserves better.
And what he said downstairs? No, that doesn’t change anything. It can’t.
“Hello?” she says, answering with a shaky voice.
I keep my voice low, sitting at the chair by the window, as far from Adam’s room as possible.
“I’ve been thinking about us,” I say, “and…”
My stomach cramps, like my instincts are making one final effort to stop me before I do something stupid. I force myself to picture Adam’s face, the tears glistening on his cheeks.
“Bryson?”
“We have to end it,” I say, fighting every impulse within me: possessiveness, jealousy, and obsession. “I should never have started it. It’s not fair to Adam. We both know that.”
“Of course, I know it,” she says, her voice curiously tone-free, deadened. “Is this really what you want?”
No, not even close.
I want to fall to one knee and present a ring worthy of my princess, to slip it onto her finger and stare up into her eyes, glistening with happy tears. I want to pull her into my arms and spin around as the joy spins aroundus. I want to kiss her with love blazing through each subtle movement and take her body with lust burning between us.
“This isn’t about what I want.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“No,” I snarl, then quickly lower my voice. “It’s not what I want, but it’s the right thing to do. For however long I’m here, we have to have some self-control.”
“Then maybe don’t feel me up in your car,” she snaps.
I say nothing, letting out a shaky breath.
“I’m sorry,” she says after a pause. “We both know I wanted that. You could tell, couldn’t you?”
“Yeah, even if I tried to pretend I couldn’t.”
“For the record,” she says, “I still want to go on that date.”
