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“I know,” she said. “Did you want me?”
“Always.”
She realized she needed to rephrase. “Did you want me when I didn’t want what you wanted?”
He didn’t answer.
“Deciding is different from knowing,” she said to him—and to herself. “I’m sorry.”
“But I was happy with you,” Kevin said. Hayley wondered where he was. Whose floor he was crashing on. Maybe he was on a couch.
“You were sometimes,” she said. “But not in Columbus. Now that you’re home and I’m here, aren’t you a little relieved?”
Again, he didn’t reply. She imagined the stars.
“So we’re over?” he finally asked.
“Yes.” There was power in allowing herself to let go. She was crafting her universe.
“Because of him?”
Hayley thought for a long moment. Would she be here if she hadn’t met Nick? Would she be happier? “Would you take me back if I asked?” she asked Kevin. “Right now?”
He hesitated. “If—”
“That’s why we’re over,” she said simply. “Too many ifs.”
47
Nick told himself there was nothing particularly fancy about the lobby of the Icarus Showcase, but he still felt awkward as he walked up to the front desk. Maybe the statuesque blonde behind the counter was throwing him off. She glanced up as he came in, then took another look and held it.
“You’re Nick,” she said. “Or else I’m a bitch.”
Nick gave that some thought. “So if I wasn’t Nick …”
“That’d be bitchy, wouldn’t it? Assuming the disabled guy who walks through the door is the disabled guy I know?”
He smiled; Hayley had told her best friend about him. “Hi, Denise.”
“Hi, Nick.” She looked him up and down.
“Deciding whether to kick my ass?” he asked.
“Well,” she said, “you haven’t called her.”
“Had to do this first.”
She crossed her arms. “It took you a week to get here?”
“Aren’t all the stars of Icarus here on Friday night?”
Her expression had an irritated intensity, like she was working on getting food out of her teeth. “What the hell are you doing here, Nick?”
“I want to talk to Kevin.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You do.”
“And I’ve got all weekend to make it happen.”
