“This man is telling youexactlyhow he feels, emptying his proverbial closet of all its skeletons from the beginning, and you’re inventing reasons not to trust him.”
Ouch. I’d wanted honesty, but that didn’t mean the truth didn’t also sting. I felt myself getting defensive.
“Luke lied to me, Mom. He kept this huge thing from me.”
“Did he lie?” she asked, her voice firm but gentler than before. “Or did he wait a few days to tell you something that possibly terrified him?”
I opened my mouth to argue with her, then closed it again because she had a point. Luke had been terrified when he told me. I’d seen the fear in his face and heard it in his voice. He hadn’t confessed because I’d found out and forced him to. He’d confessed because keeping the secret was eating him alive.
“Intent matters here, honey. Eric lied to protect himself and that woman. This Luke, though? He told you the truth even though it might cost him everything. That’s not lying, honey. That’s being brave.”
I realized I’d been holding my breath. I let it out slowly, feeling some of the tension drain from my shoulders. For the first time since this morning, I could think without my thoughts immediately tangling into knots.
“But how do I know his feelings are real?” I asked. “How do I knowmyfeelings are real and not just … I don’t know … mathematically predicted?”
“Did the algorithm make you kiss him on your porch after he took you to dinner?”
I thought about that night. The way my heart had raced as he’d walked me home from Rosa’s. The impulse that had felt completely out of character and entirely right. “No.”
“Was itmaththat made you feel safe and protected when he drove through that ice storm for you?”
“No.”
“Did the algorithm make your heart race when he called you beautiful?”
I was quiet for a moment, remembering the way Luke’s gaze had tracked my movements, the way he’d stared at me like I was something precious and confusing and wonderful all at once.
“No,” I whispered.
“The algorithm didn’t make you doanyof that. That’s your body and your heart, Holly—not his math. The question is, are you brave enough to trust yourself?”
Tears pricked at my eyes. “I’m scared, Mom.”
“I know you are. After what Eric did to you, of course you’re scared. But sweetheart, you can’t let one terrible man keep you from taking a chance on a good one.”
“What if I’m wrong about him? What if?—”
“But what if you’re not?” she interrupted gently. “What if he’s exactly who he seems to be? What if this awkward, brilliant man really does love you exactly the way you deserve to be loved? Are you going to let fear talk you out of that?”
I pressed my hand to my mouth, the blanket dropping away, to try and hold back a sob.
“Talk to him,” Mom said. “Tell him how you feel, and set your boundaries. But don’t run away from this just because it’s scary. The best things usually are.”
We talked for a few more minutes—she told me about Dad’s latest attempt at woodworking, about their plans to come visitin the New Year if the weather cooperated. Normal things that reminded me that no matter what decision I came to, my life would go on.
When we hung up, I returned to my nest of blankets and let myself really consider everything she’d said. The hard truths she’d challenged me with.
Luke had run the algorithm because he was already falling for me. He’d wanted confirmation of what he was feeling, mathematical proof that he wasn’t imagining the connection between us.
That was actually kind of sweet, in a very Luke way.
And he’d told me about it. Not immediately—which was wrong—but before things went any further than they had. Before I was in any deeper. He’d risked losing me to be honest with me.
Eric would never have done that. Eric had humiliated me in front of everyone we knew rather than have an open, honest conversation with me.
The two situations weren’t even remotely the same.
I thought about last night. About the way Luke had touched me—reverently, desperately, like he couldn’t quite believe I was real. About how he’d researched sex for sixteen years and then became a goddamn expert at it, all because one person had told him he was bad at it. About how he’d tied me up becauseI’dwanted it, and then spent an hour afterward making sure I was okay.
