“Sorry I missed you earlier,” he says. “I was on the other line, and I didn’t recognize the number.”
“With who?” I ask. “It’s the middle of the night.”
His silence answers my question.
I scoff. “You couldn’t even wait until tomorrow to call my dad? Did you give him every last detail of our fight, or just the gist?”
“I was worried. You took off.”
“I’m not a child, even if you guys treat me like one.”
“Being concerned about your wellbeing is not belittling you. Where are you?”
My legs are weak from the intensity of the orgasm I had not five minutes ago, so I turn to rest my back against the kitchen counter. Finn is leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed. This is a private conversation, and Finn has no business listening, but the fact that he’s doing it anyway turns me on a little. As if he’s too impatient to do anything other than hear me end it. “I’m at my apartment.”
“No you’re not. I called your doorman when you didn’t answer your cell, before I got your message. Whose number was that?”
“We need to talk.”
“I know, but I have to be up in five hours,” he says. “Can you at least tell me where you are so I know you’re okay?”
“What I meant wasIneed to talk. You can listen.”
He starts to remind me of an important meeting in the morning he can’t afford to doze off in. I don’t want to hurt Rich; I’d rather let him down gently. But he can’t even give me a minute to break up with him, so I rip off the Band-Aid. “We’re over, Rich.”
He pauses. “You know I didn’t mean what I said earlier about you not coming over anymore. I was mad.”
“It’s not about that.”
“We fought, Halston. I know we rarely do it, but it’s normal. It’s probably even good for us. Couples fight.”
I shake my head, looking outside to avoid Finn’s gaze. “The fight was nothing. It just opened my eyes.”
“To?”
“We aren’t right for each other. I don’t think we need to get into the nitty-gritty details, because you know it’s true.”
It’s so silent, I can almost hear the flakes of snow brushing against the window. “All right, Halston. You want to split? Sure. Let’s do that.”
I’d like to thank him and hang up, but I get the feeling the conversation isn’t over.
“I mean,” he continues wryly, “calling me in the middle of the night to end a two-year relationship is completely rational. I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that you’ve stopped seeing your doctor and taken your treatment into your own hands. The two aren’t relatedat all.”
I feel Finn’s eyes on me. The apartment is deadly quiet. I turn my face and whisper, “It’s not about that.”
“No?” he asks. “And I’m a Russian spy. Obviously, messing with your dosage is your reason for storming off and then calling me like this. We’ve been good up until a few days ago.”
“No we haven’t,” I say more heatedly. “I’ve wanted this for a long time, I just didn’t know it.”
Shit. I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. I’m not even sure if I mean it. If I backtrack, though, what will Finn think?
“Is that true?” Rich asks.
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” I haven’t really thought of leaving Rich in the active sense. Once in a while, I wonder if there’s more out there for me or if it matters that something between us has always felt off. He’s the first man to love me, though. Finn is the first to pursue me.
“If you’re not sure, why the hurry?” he asks. “Go home. Sleep. We can talk at work tomorrow. I’ll even cancel my second meeting.”
Finn watches me. With him, there are no guarantees. Is my urge to take that risk a red flag? Or an inner push toward something better? If I want Finn, there can’t be any in between or uncertainty; he’s made that clear. Maybe he’s the wrong choice. Maybe he’ll hurt me. At least I’ll feel something, though, and that’s more than I can say for Rich. “There’s nothing to talk about aside from logistics,” I tell Rich. “I love you as a friend, but as a partner—”
