“Does this mean you’re ready to have a rational conversation about it now?” Bella asks when she comes home from work and finds me on the sofa with a family-size block of roasted almond dark chocolate and a horror movie on the television.
“I guess,” I reply in my sulky teenager voice before stuffing another double square of chocolate into my mouth.
“You don’t think maybe you’re being a teeny tiny bit unreasonable?” She holds her thumb and forefinger up, with a small gap between them. Which she widens as far as she can in order to make her point.
“No.” Well, maybe I am. A little. But I also have to protect little Sadie.
Bella sits next to me, kicks off her sky-high work shoes and breaks off a double square of the chocolate for herself before I have time to snatch it out of reach.
“I think you know that’s not true,” she mumbles through the melting deliciousness.
“Do you even understand the role of the best friend? Whose side are you on?”
“Yours. Always. You know that. And yes, I understand the role of the best friend. I drew up the contract. Point five states it is my job to ensure you don’t make stupid mistakes as the result of being unable or unwilling to remove your family trauma goggles.”
“Ha. Too late. Mistake already made.”
“Is it, though?”
“How can you even say that? He packed me up and shipped me home without a backward glance to save his own career. I should never have trusted him.” Before the words are even out of my mouth, I know they’re unfair.
“What choice did he have? Should he have shut the whole dig down for you? That wouldn’t have been fair to anyone.”
I know she’s right. I hate that she’s right. But the little girl inside me is still crying.
“No. I know,” I admit grudgingly.
“And if you recall, he did say he wanted to tell Jennifer about your prior involvement from the start. It was you who insisted he kept it quiet.”
“So now it’s my fault?” Dogs in the next suburb start barking at the pitch of my voice.
Bella stuffs more chocolate into her mouth in an effort not to answer. But her eyebrows say it all. She thinks this is my fault. Maybe it is. At least in part. Damnit.
I sigh. Deeply.
“I know he didn’t have a choice, Bella. But for once, just once, I wish someone would put me first.”
Bella puts her arms around me.
“I know, honey. But don’t assume he won’t. It just might not be on your timeline.”
The rational part of my brain knows he had no alternative but to stay and complete the dig. It’s not only his career but, as he said, those of the other students. Not to mention the reputation of the university if things go badly on a dig. And the incomes of the local workers. I’m just collateral damage. Again.
And the irrational side of my brain, the side that takes direction from my sorrow and despair, continues to shriek and scream and wail against the injustice of it.
Then there’s the heartbreak. Because I’m only fooling myself if I deny my feelings for Ethan are—were? I don’t know—far deeper than attraction. Or lust. Or even a crush.
Is this how my mother felt about my father? Is this why she blew up her chance at a career to be with him? Because look how that turned out. Bitterness, anger and regret.
Not that I think Ethan is anything like my father. He’s not. Somewhere deep down, I know that.
None of which means it doesn’t hurt that he allowed me to be sent home like a naughty child. Even though it’s summer break and very few people will be around, gossip travels fast and everyone at the uni will know by now what’s happened.
There goes Sadie Montgomery. Like mother, like daughter. Only, unlike my father, who risked his career for my mother, Ethan chose his career over me. A vicious little voice reminds me of what he said about choosing his career over marrying his wife. I try to shut that down. It’s an unfair, unworthy thought. But my subconscious is looking for any weapon it can find to decapitate my feelings for Ethan.
Aside from anything else, promising to fix it, and actually doing so, are not the same thing.
It’s such a Gordian knot. An insoluble problem. Because my rational brain, my irrational brain, and my heart have tangled themselves together so tightly I can’t pry them apart.
