"But what?"
I don't know how to answer him. What is there to say? He can't really be asking this of me, of us.
"Wow, ten years later, and I'm still not good enough for you," he says with a sigh.
"What are you talking about?"
"Was I just a rebound?"
Each time a new wave crashes on the strand, I'm reminded of the time I'm letting slip between us without an answer.
"Iwasjust a rebound, wasn't I?"
"I don't know what you were. Or are. I don't know! Our parents are married, Theo. We can't move in together. Are you crazy?"
"I've never felt like this before. I don't want to give you up."
"If my dad found out we've slept together…" I'm stumbling over all the words I wish to say but can't express. So I argue the biggest of them all. "What if you broke my heart?"
"I wouldn't do that."
"But what if? Their marriage could be affected, and I don't want to do that to him. They've been through enough."
"Do I make you happy?" he asks.
Of course he does.
"It won't make a difference," I say instead.
His eyes are glittering with tears, and I can't take the heartbreak written all over his face. There are too many emotions swirling around us, and I'm being pulled apart by anger and confusion. Seeing him cry is sending me off a cliff.
Theo begins pacing the sand with clenched fists over the top of his head.
A spray of ocean water spatters across my face. The tide is rising the longer we are out here, and maybe it'll sweep us up and wash us out to sea as a finale to our conversation.
"We need to get back," I whisper to him, closing the distance between us.
Placing my hand on his forearm, he flinches at my cold touch.
"Please, please give me a minute."
I can't tell if he's crying or trying to catch his breath, but we're both frozen still.
He sniffles and wipes at his nose like he's not familiar with this action. It's clumsy and rips me in two.
During his silence, I decide to put things into perspective.
"Do you think your mom would approve of this?"
"If I told her how happy I was, yes."
"And you think my dad would be supportive if we lived together?"
"Fuck what your dad thinks!"
"Excuse me?"
His rejection has transformed into anger as quickly as the newest swell is about to crash. Our ankles are getting wet, but I remain rooted in place.
