His head whips back and forth. “No, no. I didn’t say that. I asked what your gut’s telling you. But I think I just got my answer.”
I take a shaky breath. “I just don’t think I’m ready, you know?”
Sam nods. “That’s kinda what I’m getting.”
“Like to be in a relationship like this, you’d have to be the most secure person in the world. You’d basically have to be Isaac.”
“I don’t disagree. It’d take a personality transplant for me to let anyone else into bed with me and Calyx.”
“I’m glad you two found each other,” I say. “Regardless of the circumstances.”
Sam gives me a wry grin. “Yeah, well. I’m just lucky we made it through all that. Kinda makes me think we could last forever.”
And here I am, thinking about bailing after one fight.
My gut seems to be screaming, though.Protect yourself. You’re not ready. They don’t need your shit. You’re in the way.The words, coming from a place of pure fear, drown out everything my heart wants to tell me.
“Why is this so hard?” I ask.
“You love them a lot, huh?”
Because the question wasn’t whether I wasin lovewith either of them, it’s easy to say yes. From the bottom of my heart, I want them to be happy. Do I wish I could be part of it? I don’t think that matters. It would require a level of trust I’m not capable of.
“I do love them. Enough to get out of the way.”
“Do you think they’ll be okay?” Sam asks.
The question pinches, but I nod because it’s actually the truth that hurts. Isaac might take it harder than Deacon, but in the end, if they stick together, which I hope they do, they’ll be fine.
And I will, too, eventually.
Once Sam leaves to train and Calyx heads out to teach a yoga class, I text Hunter that I want to talk about the job.
He calls me right away, and I am so fucking nervous.
“Oh my God, you’re coming aren’t you?” he asks, his enthusiasm coming through loud and clear.
“I just want to be sure it’s for me,” I tell him.
“We’d be figuring out the company together. It’d be like a partnership,” he’s saying. “If you’re really considering this, I can have the company pay for your move, and I’d even find you a place so you wouldn’t have to worry about it the first few months or whatever.”
My brain screams at me to pump the brakes, but every time I’m about to cut him off and tell him not to get too excited, I think of Deacon’s words—You’re the one who put yourself in the middle.
And that’s the last fucking place I want to be anymore. I spent my entire life being a point of contention. Fought over—torn between two pieces of my heart—my parents. It taught me to shut up. Be quiet and let them work it out. Because no matter how hard I tried to fight it or tell them how much it was hurting me, it didn’t change the fact that I was the one making them miserable. If they didn’t have me, they could have just parted ways peacefully and been happy.
I get that the situation with Isaac and Deacon is different. They’re not fighting over me. But theyaremanaging me. Constantly shifting to figure out how to deal with me being the thing that kept them from proceeding with a normal relationship. I also know none of this was my fault. I wasn’t the one who set them up on a date. I never asked them to fall foreach other. All I did was connect myself in different ways to both of them in a way I thought was safe and wouldn’t hurt me before they met.
But then I took it a step further, and I do blame myself for that. I should have wished them well and lied to Isaac. I should have told him I didn’t have any feelings for him beyond casual sex. I should have never told Deacon I had feelings for him. I should have stayed the fuck out of it because I know better.
It’s not like my parents taught me about healthy sharing. They taught me jealousy and possessiveness. They taught me love is a fucking battlefield, and you fight for it or die in disgrace.
I’m no hero. I wasn’t worth the things my parents did to each other, and I’m not secure enough to stand my ground in a place I’m not sure I belong. There were moments where I thought maybe I was properly worth what both of them were offering. Necessary to them even. But the more I’ve thought about it—those times were all during sex.
Put us all in clothes and throw us into a new environment, and I fucked it up. The party. Last night. The week leading up to us all hopping into bed together. I was always the problem.
I love them. I can’t argue that, not even with myself. But my love isn’t enough for either of them. Last night was a series of body blows. Deacon fighting with me. The sounds of them hooking up when I was getting Apollo ready to leave. Isaac telling me he didn’t want to choose. Deacon telling me I was in the way.
So, I can either go back there and try to resist the pull I feel toward them, or I can make a clean break.
