I rub a palm over my chest. Liam and I have skillfully avoided the looming deadline situation. My brother’s wedding has bought us some more time, but eventually, that conversation will come, and I’m not sure I have an answer.
Since Liam told me he’s in love with me, my insides have felt more like the Pont des Arts of yore sparkling in the sunlight. Cutting the shimmers out at the root to lighten the burden holds little appeal, even if it’s inevitable.
“But Fionn’s perfect for you,” I whine. “Give it a go, shoot your shot. You never know. No holding back.”
“Evie, do you really want to have this conversation right now?”
“Yes?”
“Okay, then have you two talked about what you’re going to do?”
“No.” I shrug, tempted to hip-check Eli for seeing right through me. “But there are other factors to consider.”
“Mm-hmm.” He smirks knowingly. “I love you, but honestly, you’re the last person who should be telling me not to hold back. You haven’t exactly been pursuing any of your dreams lately. And trust me. I get it. You have a lot going on. I’m just saying maybe you should get why I’m hesitant to go forward with this.”
“You don’t want to get hurt,” I mumble. “Or hurt him.”
“There you go.”
“I still think it’d be worth it—what if it doesn’t end poorly? What if it’s the best thing that has ever happened to you?”
“Maybe you should be asking yourself the same thing. Seriously, woman? Pole.” He nods my way.
I pull my eyes off the ornate facade of the Louvre and step aside, narrowly avoiding the brutal beam. They really need to do something about those damn things.
“It’s just not that simple for me.”
“What’s not?”
An extra sharp pain stabs me in the side. I miss a step but hide that these are getting increasingly worse. Hopefully, sitting at the park will handle it. I’m sure I just need to rest, that’s all.
“Dating with all of this.” I gesture to my pelvic region. “It complicates a lot of things I feel like everyone talks about as cornerstones in relationships.” I pull at my fingertips, remembering some asshat on a reality show who told the camera and the audience that a sexual appetite in his partner was one of his top priorities. That was probably a shitty thing to say, but that doesn’t mean the earworm didn’t stick.
His green eyes shine sympathetically, and it’s far more comforting than I imagined it would be. “Like what?”
I blink at him. Is he really not getting this? “Sex hurts. A lot. No guy would want to have to deal with that.”
“Liam would.”
“Liam is the kind of guy who would stay out of obligation, which worries me.”
Eli shakes his head. “I’m not going to pretend like I understand where your head is at or what you’re going through, so I’ll drop it, but promise me you won’t let your endo take something it has no business taking.” The sidewalk grows thick with tourists, kiosks, parked trucks, and other vehicles. Walking in tandem isn’t an option, so I cut ahead, pausing in front of one of my favorite crêperies. Hazelnut, cocoa, and flour swirl around me. I inhale.Comeon, Nutella, give me strength.The pain increases up the side of my leg, and my mask drops.
“I’m not saying no to relationships entirely. I’m just saying, past few weeks aside, I’m going to need time and to take everything at a glacial pace, so I’m certain he knows what reality with me looks like.” I force another step. I’m okay. It’s just pain. I can do this.
“A rocking good time with a kick-ass woman?” Eli snorts behind me.
A lightning-like streak shoots through the crook of my thigh, over the top of my vaginal area, and every step that follows is pure torture. I halt abruptly as my body plays thelet’s crank this up to elevengame, and Eli hits my back.
“Shit, you okay?”
A tear streaks down my cheek, my heartbeat escalates, and breath escapes my lungs. My brain scrambles with the blinding pain, and I get trapped in my mind, in my body, as the commotion of the city curls around me. I don’t want to make a scene. I don’t want to be a diva, but we’re not close to a Métro station. A good half hour from the apartment, and I can’t think. Can’t speak. “Pain,” I manage. “So much.”
“Fuck—” He runs a hand through his hair. “Do we need to get you to the hospital?”
I shake my head. “Won’t do anything. Home. I need home.”
“Our apartment isn’t too far—” He grabs the crook of my elbow and leads me along.
