I’m already not telling Reed. I’ve already promised him that I won’t love him. So there’s no reason for anyone to find out what I’ve done.
Although this time around, it’s hard.
Harder than the first time even.
The first time, I wanted to be good. I wanted to not lie or hide from my brothers. I was ashamed at what I was doing, falling in love with someone despite all the warnings.
This time, I don’t want to keep it from people like it’s a dirty little secret. This time, I’m not ashamed. I don’t think I’m doing anything wrong by loving him.
This time, I’m not naïve either.
I know he’s a villain. I know he has all the power to hurt me.
But I also know that he can be a hero if he wants to be. He can be a protector, a lonely protector.
So I don’t know if this whole get-together was a good idea. Because not only do I have to hide my love for Reed, I also have to pretend to be happy about going to Juilliard.
I thought I would be.
That I would be so, so happy about going to the place where I’ve wanted to go ever since I was five.
But I’m not.
As people around me, my brothers especially, make plans about what’s going to happen after Halo is born, all I want to do is cry.
My brothers tell me that they have thought it all through: I’m going to live with Ledger, Stellan and Shepard, who all share an apartment in New York. They have also begun baby shopping and clearing out a room for me. And since Reed lives here now because he works for his dad’s company, he can visit whenever he wants to.
I expect Reed to say something then.
I expect him to object and declare that he’ll be moving to New York with me. Or as crazy as it is, that I’m not going anywhere without him. Mostly because he’s buying stuff for Halo too and hoarding it all in the spare bedroom as if he means for us to stay.
But he doesn’t.
He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t tell us that he has a plan. He simply stands there with a tight jaw and shuttered eyes.
Again, I try to tell myself that it doesn’t matter.
If he’ll visit Halo and be there for her, then that’s enough for me.
But I can’t help but want to sob and sob and sob.
Anyway, after that miserable party, when I’m not sobbing, I’m knitting.
Oh, I knit like crazy these days.
Tempest bought me so much yarn that I can knit well into next year. I knit Halo everything that I can think of: socks, booties, hats, scarves. Even sweaters.
When I complete the first sweater, baby blue with little white wings and a white halo above it, and I show it to Reed, he doesn’t say anything for a minute.
A whole minute.
I sit in the bed, propped up on my pillows as usual and count the seconds.
When I can’t take the suspense anymore, I ask, fearfully, “You don’t like it?”
Sitting beside me, he looks up then; he’s been staring silently at the sweater all this time and my heart squeezes in my chest at the look in his eyes. All molten and intense.
Then he speaks, his voice so rough and guttural that my heart bleeds in my chest. “I like it.”
