“So. What is it?” I ask more gently than before, though my brows still rise with impatience.
“Liv is breaking up with me.” His voice would sound steady to the untrained ear, but I know Will and that lack of emotion, that hollow pang as he says the words to me? They have me inching slightly closer to him.
“Sheisbreaking up with you or shedidbreak up with you?” My voice wavers, and I know he can hear the panic in it, can see that even I know there’s not much he can do to stop his world from crashing down.
“She wants to go on a break.” His matter of factness is unsettling.
“What happened?” I feel my heart pitter patter in my chest, the reality of this sinking in with each moment.
“We were at the team dinner and Bencasuallymentioned that he and Liv went to the city together the other day.” His laugh is bitter, laced with disappointment. “Of course, Liv never mentioned it. Made it seem like it wasn’t a big deal, but it’s a big deal. Right?” He looks up at me, waiting.
The same heart that broke for him after every bad nightwith Dan, that broke for him after Lily, breaks again. Will’s not a perfect person, far from it, but for Ben to do this after everything else? No one deserves that, not even Will.
“Yeah, that’s a big deal.” I shake my head. “Did you confront her?”
He heaves a heavy sigh, knocking his head back against the corner of the wall.
“We got into an argument, whichstartedwith how fucked up that was and how I wanted her to be honest with me, but ended with her saying she wanted a break. And I told her that’s not what we need, but…”
“You don’t think a break is even alittlebit good?”
“What the fuck is a break going to do?”
“Give you both some time to think? I mean, Will…something’s obviously going on with her and Ben,” I quietly add, almost regretting even acknowledging it.
“Don’t say that,” he says with shut eyes, his head still back.
“Why is she so important to you?” My voice is hushed, like the words themselves might be enough to cause an earthquake if they were uttered any louder. It doesn’t take a genius to know that Will and Olivia are no great love story. Are they a beautiful couple? Yes, absolutely. But they couldn’t be more different. Where Will is brash and careless, passionate and spontaneous, Olivia is controlled and perceptive and muted. And the old “opposites attract” doesn’t work here because they so clearly repel. They argueincessantly, forever in denial that maybe,just maybe, he shouldn’t have to reel himself in for her and she shouldn’t have to live her life clenching her jaw for him.
If she was any other girl, I probably would have convinced Will of this already. And not for my sake, but for his. But she isn’t any other girl; she’s Liv. And she walkedinto his life at the worst possible time and I don’t know how to get him to even want to walk away from this demented hole he’s found himself in.
But maybe I won’t have to. Maybe they’ll implode all on their own.
He levels his head, his eyes now open and shinier than they were before. He’s not crying, but he’s on the verge. “I don’t know how to get past her.”
The air seems to sink around us as we both silently acknowledge that Olivia isn’t theherhe’s talking about. I squeeze his hand, moving so our thighs are now touching and lay my head on his shoulder, a position that almost comes second nature, one we’ve found ourselves in since we were kids. He pulls in a shaky breath, resting his chin in my hair.
When Lily died, Will and I holed up in this room for an entire week. Seven days and eight nights, I laid in this bed with him. Saw the way his eyes would glass over every time he remembered she was gone. Watched him call Ben over and over, only for his own brother to have left him when he needed him most. I was here then just like I’m here now.
“Please stay, Genny.” His voice is the faintest whisper. Fragile and rough, a piece of fine china broken, but not yet shattered.
We sit in silence for a long time, listening to each other breathe and I realize that, for so long, lying here with him felt like the only home I had. All those nights growing up where we’d fall asleep in each other's arms, forcing one to be the other's security blanket. Now though, it’s like I'm looking through a filter, living in a memory that doesn’t resemble our real lives, and it's hard not to feel out of place as I think about how much Grant would hate this.
Grant.
The world outside of this cozy, dark, barely lamp lit corner of his room suddenly illuminates in my mind, and Grant stands in the center of it. And all I can think about is when I’m going to see him again. When I’m going to feel him again. When he’s going to kiss me again.
“Can we go together tomorrow?” Will's voice interrupts my thoughts, leaving me disoriented as I try to piece together what he’s talking about.
“Go…?”
Will picks his head up to look down at me, his face amused.
“You serious?” He gives me one of those rare Will smiles, the one that’s truly his, not a mask shielding him from his grief. A smile I took for granted for so many years. “The gala is tomorrow, Gen.”
Shit.
“Right...” I curse under my breath, but he doesn’t catch it. The only person I want to see at that gala is Grant. Sloane even helped me pick out my dress. The idea of having him see me show up with Will is not something I even want to imagine.
