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“It already has,” I cried. “But it’s also made things worse.”
“In what way?”
“It’s just that love is so risky and complicated, and it can hurt people so badly. My father loved my mother so much that after she died, he couldn’t cope. He turned a little crazy.”
Milo shrugged. “That’s the best kind of love, the kind that makes you a little crazy. So that’s a bullshit reason. What else have you got?”
He handed me another tissue, since I’d soaked the first one. My father’s craziness wasn’t a good enough reason? Then what did I have?
“Love is pointless,” I said, trying a new tack. “Do you know how vast the universe is, and how infinitely small we are, with ourfeelingsand ourloveand ourrelationships?”
“Bull. Shit.” He scoffed at me in disbelief. “If you’re going to use the ‘vastness of the universe’ argument, then I’m going to use the ‘you found each other in the midst of all this vastness’ argument, and you’ll lose. Don’t spout your astrophysicist bullshit at me. When you and Devin played together at The Gallery, you made your own universe. I can’t imagine how things were when you were alone together.”
“They were…” I couldn’t finish my sentence, because I was crying too hard, but also because there were no words to explain how Devin made me feel when I was in his presence. I could make stabs at it. Comforted. Safe. Happy. Understood. Appreciated.
Loved.
“I’m not going to hurt you, not even to punish you,” said Milo, somberly. “I’m not going to take you to The Gallery as my submissive. Ever. I wouldn’t do that to my friend, and I wouldn’t do it to you.”
“Then what do I do with these feelings? How can I move on?”
“Admit that you feel them, first of all. Do you love Devin or not?”
My pitiful sobs were enough of an answer. Milo tsked and handed me the entire box of tissues, along with a trash can to throw them into.
“I think you need to talk to Devin,” he said. “Unfortunately, he’s in Toronto until Friday. You could meet him there.” He looked at his watch, then back at me. “You could fly there in a matter of hours.”
“Fly?” Fear choked me before I even said the word. “The thing is, I have this really bad fear of flying. A phobia, really.”
“I know. Devin told me.” Milo gave me a sadistic stare-down.
I wrung my hands, grasping for some other way. “Maybe I could…”
“Maybe you could drive there, yeah,” he said, stealing my cowardly thoughts. “Or maybe you could swallow your fears and get on a plane for love.”
“But the possibilities…”
I meant the possibilities of crashing or running out of fuel, or having to land in Lake Ontario, but Milo replied, “Yeah, the possibilities.”
And that was pretty much that.
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Devin
Iwas atthe hotel waiting for room service when my phone dinged, displaying a text from Milo.
U there?
I typed aYfor yes, pushing my suitcase aside so I could sit on the bed. Another text came through a moment later.
Dude. Ella came to see me.
Her name jolted me. The fact that she’d gone to see Milo jolted me more.Is she okay?
Debatable.
That was snark. So Ella wasn’t in trouble, or sick, or dying.Why did she come to see u?I asked.
Cause of her feeeeelings, Milo typed.I told her to go to Toronto, to see you. Still there til Fri?
