“Why?”
Is he delusional?
“Because this isn’t happening. You’re all kidding yourselves if you think he’s magically going to fall into my arms. Living together is only going to intensify my feelings and eventually things will get awkward.”
Mark stares me down. “Then say no.”
“What?”
“When he comes back out here, say no. I’m sure you can come up with some kind of reason. Or just admit you want more space to yourself—more distance from him.”
“I can’t do that. I can’t tell him no.”
Mark walks over to me, curly auburn hair glinting in the light from those gorgeous windows, and puts a hand on my shoulder. “You can, but you won’t. Maybe instead of getting annoyed with me, you should ask yourself why you won’t say no to him.”
Hardy flies back into the room before I can respond to that.
Not that there is a response to it. Not one I’d say out loud.
Because there’s only one answer. I won’t say no to him because then I’d have to see the disappointment on his face, and I never want him to be disappointed. All I want is to make him happy, even at the cost of my own heart.
So, when Hardy asks, “What do you think? Can we get it?” I ignore the intensity of Mark’s stare as I say, “Absolutely.”
I standin front of my bookcase, slowly pulling books off and carefully placing them in the box.
We signed the paperwork on the penthouse as soon as we were done looking at it, and while Hardy’s excitement and puppy dog eyes were part of why I said yes, it wasn’t only him. He said he’d find another place that felt like home, and from the moment I saw the living area with the fireplace and the huge windows, my soul settled. Like I was stepping into the place that was supposed to be my home.
Sharing it with Hardy might make my life more complicated, but maybe it won’t. It’s always easy with us, and despite the vague weirdness I’ve noticed lately, we’re still us. And I’m going to focus on that. He’s my best friend for a reason. Maybe we’ll have fun together.
Or maybe I’m completely delusional.
My hand hovers over my favorite poetry book. It’s new, only released a few months ago, but the poems live in my soul.
Flipping through, I find one of my favorites—and the one I haven’t been able to stop thinking of today.
Lonely Nights
I once reveled in lonely nights
My form of peace and solace
And then bursting like a ray of sunshine through a storm cloud
You shone light on my dim world
And showed me lonely nights were better shared
I hope my nights will feel even less lonely living with him—instead of lonelier each night in my bed knowing how close he is and yet far away.
Dropping into my favorite oversized chair, I pull out my phone and send a text to the person I can always talk to about this.
Me: I might’ve done something dumb.
Definitely not my mom. She already thinks that Hardy and I are in some sort of relationship and I’m hiding it from her. Even though she knows I’m bi, so why would I? And while I love my little sister, and she’s always there for me, she’s twenty-two and her only experience with relationships is limited to how fungi and amoebas relate to each other.
I love that for her, but it means her advice, or even understanding of my feelings in this area, isn’t super helpful.
No, it’s my chosen little sister who calls back rather than sending a text.
