I feel like I’ve been doused with water. Hit by a truck. The air knocked out of me. I stand there, frozen in place, feeling ice-cold and scalding hot at the same time.
“You don’t want …?” I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence. Because what am I even asking for? A relationship? Love?Me?
Something flickers across Graham’s face, but it’s gone in an instant, replaced by a look I can only describe as cold. What happened to the Graham from the last few weeks? The one who spilled his guts around a campfire, who made me breakfast, who held me while I fell asleep? “I think we pretty much finished what we set out to do. Right?”
I take a physical step back, like I’ve been punched in the gut. I open my mouth to respond, but I don’t know what to say. So I simply nod. Once. Not trusting the lump now forming in my throat, I have no words for him. So I simply turn on my heel and leave.
I wait until I hear his door shut behind me before I allow the tears to fall.
And as much as I hate him for it, Graham was right. He was a hundred percent right, and I really have no business feeling the way I do right now.
This was, and always had been, a terrible, terrible idea.
Chapter nineteen
Delilah
Harrison sits across the small table in the crowded coffee shop, a cappuccino in hand, staring out the window. Normally, I’d tease him for a drink that frothy. But today isn’t a good day for that.
I worry our drinks are going to grow cold before either of us talks. I invited him here. I started this whole thing, after all. And as scared as I am to finally speak with him, I clear my throat and force it out.
“I’m sorry,” I start with it.
It’s the only thing I can really offer. And it’s sincere. I never should have done this. Not with Harrison’s best friend. Because at the end of the day, it’s Harrison and Graham who lose a whole lot more than I do.
Harrison takes a deep breath, and for the first time since walking in, he looks me in the eyes. “It’s okay, Delilah,” he says.
I don’t know if he means it or not, but I nod, staring down into my latte. “It was a stupid idea, and I never should have acted on it.”
Harrison shrugs. “I mean, it makes sense you’d have a crush on him. You’ve known him for years, he’s …” Harrison rolls his eyes. “I mean, women like him and all. I get it.”
Part of me wants to correct him. That, no, this didn’t start out as a crush, regardless of what it might have spiraled into. But I decide, for my brother, that the less details the better.
“It’s Graham who should have known better,” Harrison goes. “Whodoesknow better.” He shakes his head.
I bite my lip. My feelings around Graham right now are complicated. I kind of hate him. And as easy as it would be to pile on and have a bitch sesh with my brother about our least favorite person right now, deep down, I know that’s not fair.
“That might be true,” I say slowly, “but, Harrison, I need you to see me as a real person who played a part in this.”
His eyebrows draw together slowly.
“You don’t get to decide what other people do. And no matter how much you want to protect me from things, you can’t always do that.” He opens his mouth, but I keep going. “If I get hurt, I get hurt. I knew the risk, and I took it.” And as the words leave my lips, they ring even truer.
Because I did know the risks. I knew exactly who and what Graham was when I started this whole thing. And I thought I knew who I was, what I was capable of.
And I was wrong.
I miscalculated.
And I only have myself to blame.
Harrison closes his mouth, opens it again, and then takes a deep breath. “I just … want you to be okay. No matter what. Always,” he says, somewhat forcefully.
I chuckle at that and nod slowly. “I don’t think we get to decide that, even for ourselves.”
Harrison rolls his eyes, and that gets me laughing, which gets him laughing too, and for the first time this week, I finally feel like we can recover from this.
“So you forgive me?” I venture hesitantly.
