I swallow. “What do you mean?”
“I told her you didn’t deserve her. I told you to stay away from her.”
A sick feeling twists in my gut. Those conversations are etched into my mind. “I remember how much you hated me for her.”
“I thought I was protecting her,” Carlie says weakly. “I thought if I kept you apart, she’d finally let go. I thought distance would fix what love broke.”
“It wasn’t love. It was one night.”
“Whatever you want to call it, she never got over you,” Carlie says again, softer this time. “Not once. Not for a second. Her whole marriage, she was pretending.”
My chest tightens. “Pretending how?”
“Pretending safety was the same thing as happiness. Pretending that love could grow between her and David. And eventually, she was pretending that lying to herself every day about her own happiness was just how marriages work.”
I push to my feet, restless now, pacing the length of the office. “You’re telling me she built an entire life on a lie?”
“I’m telling you she did what she had to do to survive,” Carlie replies. “And I watched it happen.”
I stop pacing. “Watched what?”
“I watched her convince herself that this was it, that this was as good as it got and that she wasn’t allowed to want.”
Something in my chest gives way. “Want… what?”
Carlie looks at me then, really looks at me, like she’s deciding whether to finish the job she started. “You, you idiot. She wanted you. Haven’t you figured that out by now?”
I stand there, frozen, every memory rearranging itself in real time. Harper’s smile. The way she asked me last night if I regretted her, like she already knew the answer.
The only thing I regretted about that night was not continuing it into the morning and the next day and for the rest of our lives. But that’s the selfish part of me. The irresponsible part of me. My inner asshole.
My body tenses, toes to face. “She… she deserves better than me.”
Carlie exhales slowly, like she’s been holding her breath for years. The anger is gone from her face. Her head tilts slightly. She steps closer, lowering her voice. “I’m not telling you this to punish you. I’m telling you because I can’t let it happen again.”
“That’s not a problem.” My mouth is a desert. “I won’t let it happen again. I won’t hurt her like that. You have my word. I was stupid and selfish back then.”
“What’s changed?”
“These days, I’m just stupid.”
She snorts a laugh. “You’re not.”
“I am. Like I said, she deserves better than me. I’m a piece of shit, and I know it, Carlie, so you don’t have to worry about this. I’ll keep my distance?—”
“Stop! Just stop!”
“I don’t know what you want from me! One minute, you’re telling me to stay away from her, and then I agree with you, and now I’m in trouble for that, too? I don’t understand.”
Again, she exhales loudly. “I’m asking you to stop framing fear like it’s virtue.”
The words rattle around in my brain and have nowhere to land. “What?”
Carlie’s voice softens even more. “You fucked up the first time you were with her. Don’t let that be the only version of you she ever gets.”
I clench my jaw. “I don’t want to hurt her again. You don’t want me to hurt her again. I thought we were on the same page.”
She pulls away from the door. “I know. But hiding isn’t kindness. It feels safer than honesty, and maybe it is, but you’re still lying to yourself. And to her.”
