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“And what’s that?”
“Losing each other.”
He shifted his weight and smirked. “Losingeach other?”
“Yes, tough guy. Don’t you remember how worried you were about your friendship with Shelby getting ruined if you guys took that step towards more?”
“That’s totally different.”
“Not that different. You care about Will. He’s like a brother to you. You don’t want us to have some big, dramatic, messy breakup because that would probably ruin your friendship. Right?”
He gave a noncommittal shrug. “I’m sure it would.”
“Definitely. No one’s arguing that. In fact, that’s like, the root of the whole reason why Will and I didn’t get together back in high school. And we came close.”
Paul glanced at me and then away, crossing his arms over his chest with a guarded expression. “What happened in high school?”
I could tell it wasn’t an accusation or something he was about to freak out about, so I stepped to the counter across from him and leaned against it, facing him directly. “Do you remember that party you couldn’t go to so you asked Will to go and keep an eye on me?”
He straightened, nodding.
I hesitated, unsure how detailed I needed to get in my recounting of that night in order to make my point. “I pretty much came clean with him about how I felt about him, and he told me he looked at me like family and wouldn’t hear any of it. And I believed him. I spent the next decade thinking I was an idiot for secretly loving a guy who looked at me like a little sister.”
Paul wrinkled his nose. “Yeesh.”
“Then on Valentine’s Day,” I continued, my tone gentle since I knew that was a horrible night for him and Shelby, “I tried again. And he gave me the same answer.”
His expression changed as he thought back to that night, and I could practically hear the puzzle pieces clicking into place. “The hoodie.”
“Yeah.”
“I remember thinking it was nice he was there to comfort you since I was so wrapped up in worrying about Shelby.”
I ignored his bitter laugh and looked down. “It was nice. Until he rejected me again.”
“So, how does all of that translate to you guys secretly being in love? If he looked at you like a sister, that’s really weird.”
“He wasn’t telling the truth, Paul. It’s not a pretty answer, I know. He lied to himself, he lied to you, and he lied to me. But it was all because he was terrified of the same thing that got you so riled up yesterday. He doesn’t want to lose you. He was terrified of losing the only family he’s ever had.”
Guilt showed on his face then, plain as day. “It didn’t even occur to me that he was worried about that, too. In fact, I took it like the opposite; like he didn’t even care. I felt like he’d stabbed me in the back or something.”
“That makes sense. But your reaction really hurt him.”
Paul pushed off the counter. “Okay, well I was hurt, too.”
“Yeah, same here. This is a mess. I get it.”
He paced the kitchen, the hem of his jeans over his bare feet brushing against the linoleum floor with a soft whooshing sound. I focused on the steady rhythm of that noise instead of the hopeless feeling that floated through me. Was he going to be okay with us? And if not, what would it mean for the future?
Finally, he turned to me, lifting his arms and then letting them fall with a defeated sigh. “So, what now? You guys are in love and gonna get married and live happily ever after?”
My heart stirred at the image of Will standing at the end of the aisle, waiting for me to join him. I hadn’t let myself imagine it in years. Not in any real detail. It was too painful when I thought it would never happen. There was no way I could’ve survived as a wedding planner, constantly faced with days like that, imagining my own ceremony with Will. Not if it wouldn’t come to pass. But now? Paul’s words had thrown the mental image in the air between us before I could slap it down. Tears sprang to my eyes, and I blinked rapidly to clear them.
“Yeah, I really hope so. I believe we will. But I want you standing next to him, supporting us. I don’t want this to ruin everything. Neither of us does. Do you?”
Paul watched me for a long moment, then shook his head. “No. I don’t.”
“Okay. Good. Thank you.”
