"What should I have done?"
"Stayed. Fought. Figured it out together instead of making unilateral decisions about your relationship." Isla takes my hand. "Look, Carter's father is a manipulative asshole, but the answer isn't giving him what he wants. It's finding a way around him."
"How?"
"I don't know, but Carter was trying to figure that out and you shut him down before he could."
I think about that conversation. The way Carter looked when I suggested a break. The way he said "I love you" like it was the last time he'd get to say it.
"I fucked up."
"Yeah. You did." Ivy refills my wine. "But you can fix it. If you're brave enough."
"What if he doesn't want to fix it? What if he's relieved?"
"Then he's an idiot. But I don't think he is. I think he's as miserable as you are, just better at hiding it."
***
I give it one more day. One more day of misery and second-guessing and wondering if I made the biggest mistake of my life.
Then I text Carter:Can we talk?
His response takes five minutes that feel like hours:Yes. My place?
I'm there in twenty minutes.
He opens the door looking wrecked. Dark circles under his eyes, hair disheveled, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt that's inside out.
"You look terrible," I say.
"So do you."
"Fair."
We stand there awkwardly until he steps aside to let me in.
His apartment looks like it hasn't been cleaned in days. Empty coffee cups everywhere, books and papers scattered, that general air of someone who's stopped caring about basic maintenance.
"I've been researching loans," he says without preamble. "Financial aid for Maya's school. Therapyprograms that offer sliding scales. I think I can cover most of it if I pick up a TA position and cut my own expenses."
"Carter—"
"I also talked to some teammates whose parents work in mental health. Got recommendations for community resources if the private therapy becomes unaffordable. It's not ideal, but it's workable." He's pacing now. "And I talked to Maya. She's considering public school for senior year. Hates the idea, but she's willing if it means I can?—"
"Stop."
He stops.
"I was wrong," I say. "About the break. About making that decision without really talking it through. About running when things got hard."
"You were trying to protect Maya?—"
"I was trying to protect myself. Ivy called me out on it. She's right." I step closer. "I was scared. Of your father, of the intensity of what I feel for you, of how quickly this happened and the moment there was an obstacle, I used it as an excuse to run."
"You had good reasons?—"
"I had scared reasons. There's a difference." I take his hand. "I love you and I want to fight for this. Together. Not by running away the moment it gets difficult."
