“A chance you wouldn’t have bothered taking if not for your father,” he huffs, rightly.“Youdevastatedme, Venus.You can’t convince me that it was for my own good.”
“Wasn’t it?The evidence suggests otherwise.”
He cringes, but his head lowers in consideration, staring into the wood of the bar.
“It was the right thing for me, too.I needed what was helpful, healthy, and safe, and I couldn’t find that without running away.I’m sorry for hurting you.I’ll say it a million times if you need me to.But I don’t regret leaving.It was best for you and everyone else.”
“Losing you hurt everyone who cared about you—how couldthatbe the best thing?”
“It’s what everyone wanted, and what I needed to do.For them, for you,and for me.”I shrug, feeling his disappointment like the too-hot sun on my bare skin, cutting into me, burning.“If it helps, it hasn’t been easy for me.I’ve suffered several long-term effects of my decision.”
“It doesn’t help.”He groans, like this is a sad consolation prize, but asks, “What effects?”
“I have no permanent residence and live out of a single backpack and carry-on suitcase.Some might consider that adventurous, but my therapist says it’s a fear of commitment.She wants to write a journal article on me.”
Henry cracks a smile at this.“That should please you, being studied.”
A light smirk breaks through my emotional avalanche.“Well, it’s one way to achieve scientific publication, though I won’t receive any credit as a case study.”
He fondles his beer bottle, looking contemplative.“Is that all?”
“Um, I’ve been called reckless.Dr.Broderick says that my lack of connection makes me take unnecessary risks, though I argue that someone has to, especially in the name of science and protecting the environment.”
His head tilts in a half-shake, like this disappoints him.“You’ve always taken risks.”
“My sister and father found their soulmates, and I didn’t even know… not because they didn’t want to tell me, but because I don’t make time to listen.”
“Anything else?”he asks, his tone softer.
“I am… lonely,” I say, wishing my therapist could hear me now.Dr.Broderick would fall out of her posh chair to hear me admit it.“My sexual partners have been accommodating, but ineffectual at satisfyingthatneed, though I can’t fault them too much.”
“How come?”
My cheeks flush.“Um, I have an annoying habit of sayingHenryat the most intimate times.”
Beer sprays over the bar at his choking sip.“Fuck me, sorry.”
I hand him the napkin.“It’s okay.”
A rosy tint appears under his glasses—a look I like on him.He fumbles with his bottle as he cleans up the mess, nearly knocking it over.“Um, that’s awkward.How did they react?”
I shrug.“My partners have been surprisingly forgiving at that stage in our engagement.I don’t want to see them again, so it’s a problem that resolves itself.”
He gulps his beer like he doesn’t know what to say.
“I have no one, Henry,” I tell him, hoping that will lessen his resentment toward me.
“I never wanted any of that for you… I didn’t realize you knew about me denying our friendship.”
“I didn’t live in a bubble.”
“It was only once, not that it’s any comfort.I hated myself for it.I felt horrible… I’m sorry, Vee.”
“It’s okay.”
“How come you never said?You should’ve been pissed,” he says.
I smirk, swishing the remains of my drink in the glass.“Everyone tells me how Ishouldbe.It’s exhausting, and it flusters me.All I can say is that at the time, I was so grateful to have you that forgiveness was easy.Besides, given social hierarchies and school dynamics, I understood.”
