Carrie winks before leaving again.
“Do you really believe in that stuff?” Eitan asks, out of the blue.
“Believe in what?” I ask through a mouthful of the most tender salmon I’ve ever had.
“Beshert.”
DoI believe in beshert? I thought it was beshert, running into Pen in Mike’s the day after Izumi’s wedding. And I suppose it was. Because of that, we’ve been closer than ever. The conversation with Louise still plays on repeat, trapping me in a nightmare fun house. Our relationship is transactional, right now. But it’s a mutually beneficial transaction.
And thingswillgo back to normal once the big day is done.
“Do you?” I ask, instead of answering him.
“My mom used to say that she and my dad were beshert.” Eitan refolds his napkin in his lap. “And, well, you know howthat turned out. Guess they weren’t beshert enough for him to want to continue treatment.”
My heart hurts at the pain in his words. “I don’t think his decision had anything to do with how much he loved your mom. Or you.” It’s far too easy to imagine myself in the same position, making the same hard decisions. “He had to do what was right for him.”
“Yeah.” Eitan wipes a hand down his face, silent for a moment. “Look, I owe you an explanation. For what happened at the movie theater.”
The sharp left turn makes my breath trip over itself. “What? No, that’s—we don’t need to?—”
“No, let me, Ruby.” There’s something hypnotic in the way he says my name. Like being spotted in a crowded room. Recognized in the dark.
I wait, holding my breath.
“I lied to you.”
I blink. “You lied?”
His lips mash together. “Maybe it’s more that I…misrepresented myself. I’m still—” The room is silent except for the hum of AC and distant voices behind the kitchen door. Eitan continues, eyes on his hands. “I’m still struggling. With—with everything. I’ve taken medication for clinical depression off and on since I was sixteen.”
It’s not what I was expecting. I thought I would be subjected to another bullshit excuse for why he’s not into me. But this is…earnest. Real.
It’s hard to reconcile Eitan having depression with his sunflower smile. But that’s the thing I learned about depression. It’s impossible to see.
“Since my dad died, it’s been—it’s been harder. Most days are okay, but I keep a lot of it at bay by flooding my system with novelty. It’s easier to get out of bed when I wake up inan unfamiliar place, with a new city to explore.” His hand lifts to the table, tentatively reaching toward mine. I let the edges of our fingers meet. “When I said that I haven’t always been a great friend to Josh, I wasn’t exaggerating. He’s had to deal with months of silence from me, during the worst of it. My mind gets twisted and tells me that people are better off without me. It makes me do stupid stuff sometimes.”
Our gazes meet, two moths fluttering in the dark.
“I like you too much to do that to you,” he finishes, the words leaden.
‘I like you’rings all around me, like church bells. The moment hangs in the air.I like you, too, is attempting to take off in my throat. But the second half of his declaration catches up to me.I like you too much to do that to you.I like you, but I’m no good for you.
It’s for the best.
“What about what I want?” I ask. “Do I get a say?”
Eitan rakes a hand through his hair. “I can’t give you what you want.”
“You don’t even know what I want,” I say, a touch indignant. “You’ve never asked. You just assume.”
His eyes go molten, and his jaw rolls. “What do you want, Ruby?” His fingers flip my palm over, dancing over the surface with feather-light touches. “Because I can’t promise anything. Anything other than right now.”
I want anything. Everything. Iachewith want.It’s cosmic, just like Louise said.
Maybe I do want more than he can give me. But for a while now, it’s felt like I want more than the Universe itself can give me, and that hasn’t stopped anything. Life continues on in one great blur all around me, and I’m tired of missing out.
“I’m okay with now,” I say, a half-truth.
