He's quiet for a moment. "Is it about us?”
"It's not about anything in particular. I'm just trying to deal with everything that's happened." I turn in his arms to face him. "But I'm okay. I promise."
He searches my face in the dim light.
"You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?"
"Of course."
Another lie. They're getting easier.
"Okay." He kisses my forehead. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
The words are true even if everything else feels like a lie.
He holds me closer, and I press my face into his chest, breathing him in.
This might be one of our last nights like this before everything changes.
I should tell him. Should be honest about the housing application. About my doubts and the conversation with my dad.
But I can't.
Not yet.
Not when he's holding me like this. Not when we're finally having a moment of peace. I know the truth will shatter everything. We have a few weeks. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying each other and being happy for a few weeks.
So I stay silent.
I let him hold me. Let him believe we're okay. Let him think this is sustainable.
Because the alternative is having the conversation I'm not ready for.
"Goodnight," he whispers.
"Goodnight."
I lie awake long after his breathing evens out into sleep.
His arm is still around me. He’s holding onto me like he’s afraid I might escape.
But I'm already halfway gone.
His arm tightens around me in his sleep, like he can sense me pulling away even unconsciously.
I close my eyes and try not to cry.
Because I love him. God, I love him so much.
But love might not be enough.
My dad was right. I can't ask him to sacrifice everything while I sacrifice nothing.
And I'm not willing to sacrifice my carefully planned future.
Not even for him.
