"Savannah." Romeo's voice pulls me back to the present. "Are you okay?"
I swallow hard. "I'm fine. Just a lot on my mind."
"The project?"
"Among other things."
He's quiet for a moment, studying me. "You can talk to me, you know. If something's wrong."
And that's the problem, isn't it? I want to talk to him. I want to tell him everything—about my father's expectations, about Thad's controlling behavior, about the way I feel trapped in a life I never chose. I want to tell him that being with him is the only time I feel like myself, like I can breathe.
But I can't say any of that. Because saying it would cross a line I can't uncross.
"I know," I say instead. "Thank you."
My phone buzzes, and I glance at the screen. It's Thad.
Thad:Coming to visit this weekend. Will arrive Friday evening. Make dinner reservations somewhere nice.
I must make a face, because Romeo asks, "Bad news?"
"No. Just—Thad is coming to visit this weekend."
Something flickers across Romeo's expression, too quick for me to read. "Your fiancé."
"Yes."
"You don't sound excited."
I should defend Thad. I should say something about how much I'm looking forward to seeing him, how much I miss him. But the lie won't come.
"It's complicated," I say finally.
Romeo doesn't push, but I can feel him watching me. Waiting.
"He's very busy," I continue, not sure why I'm explaining. "His work is demanding. And he has certain expectations about—about how things should be."
"What kind of expectations?"
I think about Thad's texts. The way he orders for me at restaurants. The way he talks about "our future" without ever asking what I want that future to look like.
"He wants me to be someone I'm not sure I can be," I say quietly.
Romeo is silent for a long moment. Then he says, "Maybe you shouldn't have to."
The words hang between us, and I feel my chest tighten.
"I should go," I say, standing abruptly. "I have—I need to do homework."
"Savannah—"
"I'll see you tomorrow in class.” I leave before he can say anything else, before I can do something stupid like tell him that I think about him and look forward to seeing him more than I should. That when I'm with Thad, sometimes I find myself wishing I were with Romeo instead.
That I'm in dangerous, dangerous territory.
—
Thad arrives on Friday evening,and I meet him at his hotel. He's waiting in the lobby when I arrive, and he looks exactly like he always does: perfectly groomed and dressed, perfectly appropriate in a navy suit, crisp white shirt, and silk tie. His blond hair is styled precisely, and his smile is polished and just as fake as the veneers that make his teeth so perfectly straight and white.
