Page 320 of Mad Girl

What came out instead was: “You have to tell the Harrises.”

You closed your eyes, tried nudging me up again. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Today. I want you to tell them today.”

Your gaze flashed. “That’s not happening.”

“Before New Year’s, then.”

“Absolutely not. We’ve already⁠—”

“You have to.”

“I’m not getting into this with you right now. Let’s⁠—”

“If you don’t tell them, I will!”

You drew back, gaze fierce. “You do that, and I’ll never forgive you, Elliot. Never. Consider this your warning.”

There it was. My answer. Succinct and brutal. You wouldn’t forgive me for telling Michael. Of course you wouldn’t. I sprang up, tried walking away, but you stood, too, and grabbed my arm.

“Listen,” you said softly, bringing your face close to mine. “Nic and the Harrises have just made up. It isn’t the right time.”

“It never is,” I said, shrugging you off. I fled upstairs.

Later that night, we lay in bed together, staring into the darkness. Michael hadn’t stormed over or sounded the alarm—yet—but it did little to quiet the dread festering inside me. The only thing I wanted—besides to undo it—was to fold myself into your arms.

But how could I?

After doing the one thing you deemed unforgivable?

“I heard you talking to Claire yesterday morning,” I said, breaking the unbearable silence. “She missed you at Christmas.”

I heard your head shift against the pillow.

“You should go for New Year’s. Go see her and Rhys.”

A beat of silence, thicker and more unbearable than before. “But we had plans for New Year’s,” you said, a definite edge to your voice. “I can go at spring break.”

I shook my head, unable to meet your gaze. The best way to punish myself was to send you away. Where you couldn’t kiss my forehead or sweep your fingers through my hair or tell me we belonged together. Where you couldn’t fill my heart with hope and almost make me believe it. “We can stay up till midnight watching TV anytime.”

“Sure,” you said tightly. “If that’s what you really want.”

I forced the words from my mouth: “That’s what I really want.”

“So that’s it,” you said with a huff. “No explanation for why you’re shutting me out again. This is all I’m getting from you.”

I blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. If I gave in, they’d consume me.

With a sigh of resignation, you turned onto your side, pulling part of my duvet with you. And I hated myself for it. For being such a coward that I couldn’t tell you this awful truth, either.

When I woke late the next morning, you were already gone. I found your handwritten note on my nightstand: Couldn’t sleep. Caught a last minute flight out. I’ll miss you. Text me later. xx

Since Libby’s duties as mayor kept the Harrises from having dinner with us on New Year’s Eve like they normally did, they came on New Year’s Day instead. Except Bree, who’d gone to her new girlfriend’s house.

Michael eyed my dad throughout the meal, making me too tense and nervous to eat. If Michael decided to confront Nic in your absence, I’d be responsible for slipping your secret to John, too, and I couldn’t stomach the thought of that happening. So I excused myself before dessert and went upstairs to my room.

Twenty minutes later, I glanced up from my book. Michael stood in the doorway with one hand jammed into the pocket of his navy slacks. We stared at one another, my heart pounding as he walked over and crawled into my bed.