He studies my face for a beat.
“I’m sorry, man.”
I shake my head.
“I don’t know how, after that conversation last week, I still left room for hope.”
I rake a hand through my hair. “I saw the way she looked at him. The way she gave herself over without hesitation. Whatever she feels for him...”
My voice falters. I swallow hard. I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence.
“I would never forgive her if she’d done to me what I did to her,” I say, staring at a folder on Oliver’s desk. “So why did I let myself believe she might forgive me? Why did I take that risk?”
Logically, I know all the answers. But there’s another part of me that never will. The part that feels my chest tighten until the air is forced from my lungs.
“Look on the bright side,” Oliver says. “Now you know. Now you can crush whatever hope you had left.”
I lift my eyes to his.
“If Felicity hadn’t taken you back... do you really think you could love someone else? The way you love her?”
Oliver looks away. That’s all the answer I need.
Crush hope, then. As if that were ever enough.
Cecily
I step onto the porch, pulling my coat tighter the moment I hear the car pull in.
Alicia gets out first and catches me in a quick hug as she passes. Then Colin steps out. He walks toward me, like every step demands something from him.
I texted him earlier today, asking if we could talk after he brought Alicia back from ballet and pizza. I hadn’t seen him since that morning in the lobby of Alexander’s building, where Colin had moved earlier this year. I left early, trying to avoid an uncomfortable situation.
I explained everything to Alexander. They hadn’t crossed paths in the building before, and with everything going on, it had honestly slipped my mind to mention it sooner.
But he understood. He woke with the sun just to walk me to my car. In the end, it didn’t matter. We ran into Colin anyway. At the worst possible moment.
The way Colin stood there, frozen, his water bottle at his feet like an afterthought. Like he was looking at a ghost. Then he just turned and walked away without saying a word. It was uncomfortable, but I get it.
Later, I realized the day before had marked one year since I confronted him with the truth. It’s strange how something that once took complete control of your body and mind can, with time, lose its hold on you.
“Do you want to come in?” I ask when he reaches the first step.
Colin clears his throat. “Can we talk out here?”
Without giving it much thought, I nod. I move toward the porch swing. He takes one of the rattan chairs, sitting the way someone does when they’re bracing for impact.
“You’re going to introduce him to our kids, aren’t you?” he asks, his voice stripped of emotion.
“Yes. I want to do it when Ethan’s in town, so they can meet him together. That’s why I wanted to talk to you about it first.”
He nods once.
“How serious is it between you two?”
“As serious as it can be,” I answer without hesitation.
He closes his eyes, squeezing them shut, then swallows hard, lowering his head. When he lifts it again, his face is carefully blank.
