We sit in uncomfortable silence for a few beats, Felix lightly drumming his fingers on the table while chewing his lower lip, when he finally breaks the silence and says, “So, you infiltrated my father’s fundraiser. That was…”
His voice trails off, leaving me to fill in the blank with any number of words to describe how unhinged my actions are. All accurate, but unhinged nonetheless. “Go on,” I urge him. “Finish what you were saying. It’s…”
“Surprising,” he replies.
The waiter arrives, interrupting our chat. Felix orders a cannoli for us to split. “Is that okay?” he asks. I nod because I didn’t really come here to eat or drink.
Felix finishes the order with a couple of cappuccinos, and the waiter leaves. I fumble with the bottom of my vest, thenloosen my tie, hoping it’ll help relax me.
It doesn’t.
“Torren, look at me.”
His words catch me off guard, and I look up to see those green eyes, looking at me with compassion. It’s the softest I’ve ever seen Felix look, and it makes that ache in my chest almost unbearable, but I take a breath and focus on him. “Sorry. I’m fidgety tonight.”
Felix nods sympathetically, then asks, “Can I ask you a question?”
Oh boy.Whatever’s coming can’t be good. Easy questions never follow prefaces like that. I nod, and he continues. “What is this all about? Like, really about. You came to the press conference, the game, and to my home. I just don’t understand.”
My body goes numb as I gaze at the way the light catches Felix’s cheekbones. It’s hard to maintain eye contact, but it would be cowardly not to. “Are you really okay?” I finally ask.
Felix cocks his head to the side. “Tell me why you’re asking me that. Please.”
The ambient piano music distorts. My chest heaves, and my skin feels hot. “You looked so sad at the press conference, and then I read your interview in theGazetteand—” My voice catches on the lump in my throat. “I just couldn’t stand seeing you like that. It’s my fault, isn’t it?”
Felix reaches for his water and takes a big gulp. “You were part of it.” His finger draws something in the condensation of the glass, and he sighs. “But that wasn’t all of it. My—” Felix closes his eyes and takes a breath. “I’ve been having a really hard time. That’s all.”
The words feel small—like they don’t begin to cover it.
I nod, silently chastising myself for not consideringthe grief he’s endured sooner. Maybe I would have done things differently if I had. “I’m so sorry about your mom. And I’m sorry that I hurt you.”
Felix sets his glass down and whispers, “Why did you do it?”
My heart’s been pounding since we sat down, but now it’s about to break out of my chest. The words I’m about to utter are so shameful that they make me sick. “I was afraid I’d hurt you again.” It’s the truth, and Felix deserves that.
His hand slowly reaches across the table and rests on mine. “We never talked about that night, but I’m not mad that it happened. I was just upset that you left—shut me out.”
My eyes zero in on his hand resting on the top of mine. He’s so warm, and his skin feels so smooth. I wrap my fingers around his delicate hand, savoring the contact. “I’d do anything to do things differently,” I whisper.
“It’s okay,” he whispers.
My head shakes, because I don’t want or deserve absolution. “It’s not. I’m so sorry.” I lean closer, inching my hand toward him so he doesn’t have to reach for me across the table. “Felix, I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, but I know I can’t stand seeing the life in your eyes vanish. I realize that I haven’t been looking him in the eyes, and I meet his gaze to finish what I want to say. “I want to help.”
Felix sighs, then covers his face. I hold his hand tighter and stay silent. My mind races, unsure if I said the wrong thing. A tear falls down his cheek, reminding me of the first time I made him cry in my bedroom, and I start to panic, convinced I botched this up entirely.
Then he says, “You’re the first person to offer that since she died.”
“Help?” I ask.
He nods. “The only help I’ve gotten is really awful medication. Nobody will talk to me—say anything. It’s like it’s all a dirty secret we can’t discuss.”
Medication.
I knew it. My whole body shakes with rage. It’s not right. It’s not fair that he didn’t get any help, but I can do that. I don’t know how, but I’ll try. “I mean it. How can I help?”
The waiter arrives with our cappuccinos and cannoli, and Felix quickly turns away, wiping the tears staining his cheeks. I give the waiter a nod, and he leaves in a hurry.
Felix takes another sip of water and says, “Let’s just have fun on Friday. That would really, really help.”
