So I don’t look like him anymore?
No. You still do.
But I no longer care.
Sounds like a win for me.
Tmrw?
After that’s settled, I call my sister and spill everything: the words Asher said, his heart-stopping declarations, his artistry in bed.
“Do you love him back?” Ali asks after skiving off details of the sex the same way she’d take a peeler to a carrot.
“I don’t... I don’t know.”
“Youdoknow. Even I know.” She sighs. “Why can’t you admit it?”
Bent over my kitchen table, I drop my forehead to my arm. “How was it so easy for you to fall in love with Nic? Weren’t you scared?”
“Of course I was scared, but I married him when I wastwenty. Before Leo. Just after you lost Aiden. For me, burying Aiden was a sign I needed to love Nic faster and harder because I didn’t know how much time we had. For you, burying Aiden was proof love hurts. That isn’t a lesson you unlearn. It’s something you have to charge through and break apart.”
My voice drops to a whisper. “I don’t know how.”
“Think about it like a math equation. Is losing him now worth it? Are you saving yourself pain in the long run?”
I tap my fingernails on the wood table. One, two, three, four.
“You’re in for pain either way,” Ali says in my silence. “You can pretend you don’t know if you love him, but we both know you’re lying. You’re in love with that man from the bottom of your feet to the top of your fake platinum head. So, the question becomes... if I took him from you now, would the pain be any less today than it will be in five years? Twenty years? A lifetime?”
“I can’t answer that question,” I snap. “How do I know what it’ll feel like in five years? I can only assume I’ll continue to fall deeper and deeper in love with him every day. I’ll continue to attach more and more of myself to him. Sounds like that will hurt a hell of a lot more.”
“No, Leo! Don’t touch that!” Ali’s words drift away, then return. “Your nephew is a frickin’ mess. Listen, Joss. Can you imagine pain worse than losing him today?”
I can’t. I can’t imagine it, but I’m still scared. It’s fucking illogical. Why can’t we go back to how we were? Why is that so hard?
The thick knot in my throat is difficult to speak past. “He has a date tomorrow with another girl.”
“Then maybe you’ve already lost your chance. If he wants to move on, you have to let him. It isn’t fair to hold him back when you don’t want him.”
I growl into the phone. “You have zero empathy.”
“You don’t need empathy. You need a kick in the ass.”
Nic’s voice filters through the speaker, as if from far away. “Jeez. Who are you talking to?”
“My sister,” says Ali.
“Oh. Hey, Joss!” Nic says even though he can’t hear me respond in kind. “Sorry my wife is kicking your ass.”
I want to cry. I want to throw the phone. My eyes burn and my throat aches, but I manage a wobbly, “Me, too.”
“Oh, crap.” Ali softens. “I’m sorry, Joss. I— I can’t tell you what to do. I can’t heal your trauma or take away your fear. I would if I could. You know I would.”
“I know,” I whisper.
“I want you to be happy, but you have to bewillingto be happy. Years of therapy, and you’re just—you’re still not there yet.”
I sniffle, refusing to admit that I’m crying, that these tears exist at all. “I have to go.”
