“Exactly.”
“Well then, I just won’t leave, then…”
The second time he was controlled and focused, intense. He was unusually quiet, and it felt to me that every movement was a concerted effort to win me back. His thrusts, slow and deep, our hands clasped above my head, his gaze holding mine, never wavering. He wanted me to feel it, all of it. And remember it. And I would.
“Look at me,” he said when I was coming. “Look at me, Solène.” And the moment was so unbelievably charged, I started to cry.
Afterwards, he held me in his arms, close, ignoring his phone, which was still lighting up on the nightstand.
“Who keeps calling you?” I asked once I’d regained the ability to speak.
“Jane,” he said, low. “I quit the band.”
“What?!” It was quite possible I had not heard him correctly. “You what?!”
“I quit the band.”
I sat up, alarmed. “What do you mean you quit the band? Why would you do something like that?”
He looked up at me, confused. “Because,” he said, “it was the one thing that was keeping us apart.”
Funny how I’d waited for this for months, it seemed. And when it finally came, it had the complete opposite effect on me. Nothing about this was good.
“Oh no. No no no no no.” I grabbed my T-shirt from the other side of the bed, pulling it on. “You’re not going to do this. This is a mistake.”
“It’s not a mistake,” he said, sitting up. “What are you doing?”
“You’re going.”
“I’m not going.”
“You’re going. I’m going to go to the bathroom, and when I get back, you’re going to go.”
When I emerged, he was still sitting on my bed, naked. His expression, lost. “You’re freaking out. Why are you freaking out?”
“You can’t quit the band, Hayes.”
“I did it for us.”
“I understand why you did it, but you can’t. I don’t want you to do it for us. You need to stay in that band. You’re going to get on the phone right now, you’re going to call Jane, and you’re going to tell her you’re coming back. Tell her you made a mistake and you’re coming back.”
“I’m not going back.”
“You’re going back. I am not going to let you squander this opportunity, this gift, for what? Sex?”
He looked at me, shocked. “This is not just sex, Solène. Iloveyou.”
“I know you do.”
“I thought you loved me, too.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters.”
My head was spinning. My heart, racing. Nothing seemed clear. “What is this, Hayes? What do you think is going to happen with us? Do you think we’re going to move in together? Get married? Have kids? Are you going to be a stepdad? Drive Isabelle to fencing practice and visit her at summer camp in Maine? Think about it.Think about it.”
“Ihavethought about it.”
