“Ah.” Rich hands me a pile of folded sheets topped with a pillow and blanket. “I’ll let you get some sleep.”
I’m surprised he doesn’t have more to say, but I’m not about to argue. He follows me into the living room and turns off the lights before leaving me to it. I make up the couch.
While removing my shoes and tights, I topple onto the cushions. I leave my dress on, get under the blanket, and take out my cell. I have the urge to talk to Finn, but what is there to say? I’m still angry. I still don’t think he was right to cut me out like that. Does he even want to hear from me?
Instead, I open my camera roll. In here, I keep the photos Finn has sent me that we don’t share. The ones that’re just for us. Me, sitting up in bed first thing in the morning, the sheet pulled up around my breasts, barely hiding my nipples. My hair is mussed from a night of lovemaking. From Finn. My eyes water.
“Will you be warm enough?” Rich asks from the doorway.
Startled, I put a protective hand over my screen so he doesn’t see anything. “Yes.”
“Okay.” He clears his throat. Tonight’s half-moon casts some light into the room. “So he lets you get drunk alone at night in this city?”
“I knew it.”I’ll let you get some sleep. Can’t believe I fell for that. “I knew you couldn’t resist.”
“Sorry that I want you to be safe.”
“You just want to say you told me so.”
“So Ididtell you so?” I can just make out the way his eyebrows shoot up. “You’re admitting I was right about him?”
“No.” I frown until I’m pouting. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Can I just tell you how things look from my perspective?” he asks. “Then maybe you’ll understand my concern. One night, out of the blue, no warning, no valid reason, you dump me.Over the phone. Right after you go off antidepressants. Whenever I see you at work, you have dark circles under your eyes or you look like you’ve been crying. Next thing I know, your bodyguard boyfriend is threatening me to stay away from you. It’s like you’re brainwashed or something.”
“That’sridiculous.”
“I don’t know what hold he has over you, but something feels off. I’m worried he’s encouraging your patterns, or worse, he’s become one. I don’t want you to get involved with something dangerous, something that can’t be reversed, because you’re blinded by infatuation.”
Even in my inebriated state, Rich’s words hit close to home. He knows me well—how could he not after two years? What if he sees something I don’t? I never recognize a pattern until I’m already in too deep to get out on my own. With coffee, I was excited to find Lait Noir, a place that served it just how I liked it. I hadn’t realized anything was different until my dad congratulated me on getting my spending under control again. When had I stopped shopping and started drinking coffee by the gallon?
“You don’t need to worry about me,” I say.
“I disagree.”
“No, I mean . . . you don’tneedto worry about me. I’m not your responsibility anymore. You and my dad are getting on fine without me, you don’t need to date me for him to like you.”
Crossing his arms, he looks out the window. “I don’t know why you so vehemently believe that I lovedaroundyou. I didn’t. I lovedyou. I still do.”
Rich doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body. Or does he? I didn’t think I’d hurt him very badly, or maybe I just didn’t think. I was too consumed by my own life. “I do love you, in a way, but I can be selfish. You knew that.”
“That’s not an excuse. You just left, no explanation, no second chances. Do you have any idea how much that hurt?”
I didn’t. Slowly, a thought creeps in. What if, all this time, Rich and my dad really have known what’s best for me? What if their protectiveness, and Finn’s too, has come out of wanting me to be happy, not a need to subdue me so I can be managed? They’ve said it, but I’ve never reallyheardit. I believe the pain in Rich’s voice, though, and it makes me think maybe he really was in love with me. More than he let on.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. It’s easier to say in the dark, even though the dark won’t stand still at the moment.
“You love the drama,” he says. “You always have, which is why you wanted to be on antidepressants. You crave the ups and downs, but they scare you.” Rich sighs and pulls the curtains shut, shrouding me in complete darkness. “I’ll leave a light on in the bathroom in case you need to throw up.”
“I won’t. I’m fine.”
I close my eyes but immediately open them when the world tilts.
He’s such a goddamn know-it-all.
When I’m alone, I unlock my phone and swipe through more photos Finn took of me. He isn’t in any of them. Dad, Rich, Finn—they love me, they do. Why is it so hard for me to accept that? Maybe controlling me isn’t the best way to show it, but Finn has also supported and encouraged me. He’s the reason I’ve bloomed these past few months.
Isn’t he allowed to be protective of what he loves?
