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There must have been something in his voice, some hint behind the joke, but then maybe not — Hayley had always seen through his bullshit — because she was studying him, carefully, curious.
“You’ve never been in love, have you?”
“I thought I was once.” Even though he expected her surprise, it still made him smile. “I know, me of all people.”
“Of all people,” she repeated, teasing. “What happened?”
“Timing,” was all he was willing to say. “How about you?”
“Yes, I’ve been in love.” When she didn’t add any more, he wanted to ask. Wanted to know everything. Who was this guy? What happened?
“You’re not with him now.” This was the most important part.
Her expression shifted, too complicated for him to interpret. “No. We’re not involved at the moment.”
“See? Cupid has a lot to answer for.”
She gave him a small, warm smile. “Love is one of the most amazing experiences you’ll ever have. There’s nothing like it. You can’t plan it or plot it or teach yourself. It just happens. Like breathing.”
“I disagree. Love is learned. How else do you think Valentine’s Day became a thing? Or those love locks on bridges? None of that existed before someone invented them.”
“You’re missing the point, as usual. All that fluff is a byproduct, ways the world has found to express it. But love itself is… uncontainable. When you feel it, it pours out of you. In every word, in every gesture. You’ll find more and more ways of articulating it because you’ll go mad otherwise. You’ll say it over and over because you can’t help yourself.” She paused to shake her head. “It won’t even change when they frustrate the hell out of you. Every little thing makes you love even more.”
“But it’s finite. No energy is everlasting, not even love. So what’s the point?”
Her eyes bored into him. He wished he saw it the same. He was broken, knew it with every fiber of his being, and he’d been okay with that. But right now, faced with the naked hope in her eyes, passion coming off her in waves, he wished he wasn’t.
“The point, Harry, is to feel it.”
Maybe that’s why he was so bitter about it. Because despite all his complaining, every sneer, every eye roll, every groan… he was jealous. And he hated it.
Harrison wasn’t the guy people wanted forever with.
All this shit?
The false hope, the cutesy posts, the happily-ever-afters?
It was all designed to leave you kicked in the gut when it never happened to you.
“I have to ask you something.”
She pushed her plate away, laying her napkin over it. “Am I going to get mad?”
Harrison chuckled. “It’s highly likely.”
To his joy, she smiled and shrugged. “Go ahead then.”
“You honestly believe in meeting the one, don’t you? True love, soulmates, all that crap.”
“Yes,” she said, without embarrassment.
“Why?”
The real question was, could she ever imagine being with someone who didn’t — couldn’t — believe?
“Because I choose to. Because it has less to do with luck and stumbling onto the perfect person and so much more to do with the act of love. Every day we have the opportunity to practice loving in all sorts of ways that have nothing to do with looks or money or sex and everything to do with compassion and kindness and respect.”
Had Harrison ever heard anyone talk like that before? With such conviction? Everything in his chest felt too tight, his own heart practically giving Hayley a standing ovation, thumping loudly against his ribcage, in his throat.
