Page 80 of 13 Rules For Fantastic Phone Sex

“Listen, Kait, I…” He takes a deep breath, like he’s bracing to jump into Lake Michigan in February. “Kait, I have been thinking a lot the last few days. We, I mean you and I… I know this is a transaction, not a relationship. It does not always feel that way—sometimes it feels so real that I worry it will prevent a real relationship.”

My stomach drops. Not flutters. Drops. Like I’ve missed a step in the dark, and I’m about to take a tumble. “Henry, money doesn’t even cross my mind when I talk to you. I’m just happy to hear your voice.” This is how I know I’ve officially lost my mind. I say these things, and they are—gag—true.

Choosing love over money?

I don’t recognize myself.

I’d laugh, but Henry sounds so damn sad it strips the humor out of the conversation.

“Kait, I need to finish this thought. Bear with me, and I will endeavor to express myself in a cogent fashion.” Cogent fashion? Shit. He’s really not okay. “Whatever this is, it is preventing me from finding a real relationship. I turned down a date recently because I would be cheating on you,” he confesses, his tone morose with a tinge of shame. “It was not the first time.”

He says it all so carefully, like elocution lessons, wrapping his mouth around every single word to make sure they’re formed right.

“I understand.” See Kait actively listen. See Kait panic. See Kaitlin smile. He thinks he would be cheating on me if he dated other women. Surely that means something important.

“I could have someone special in my life if I had the courage to put myself out there.”

“Of course you can. You’re amazing.” I suck in a breath and will myself to shut up and listen instead of jumping in to fix things like I always do. “I’m listening, Henry.”

“There is no world in which this thing we have becomes real.”

“There is, Henry…” Before I can formulate the words, he continues.

“I have spent days thinking about this. I am worthless at work, and every night, I toss and turn because I know a clean break would be best. I can’t have you, and I never want anyone else with you filling my life and making everything, um, fulfilling.” The words come out slowly, unfurling, and dread pools in my gut.

In the space between his words, I press the heels of my palms to my eyes, trying to calm myself, but it doesn’t work.

“If I have to choose between no chance or a low chance of finding someone to spend my life with… don’t I deserve a chance, Kait?” He asks the question, but there’s no opportunity to answer; he rushes to the next thought.

“I am only thirty, thirty-one this weekend. I should try a little harder, for a little longer, before I give up on having a family. Kids… I can picture them so clearly, it is almost painful. Retire early and travel was never my big dream. It’s my fallback because I failed at a family.”

I listen in silence while he rambles, speculating on the odds of meeting someone who could love him, while I mire in the knowledge there is a 100 percent chance he could meet someone who already loves him Monday.

“I know women are usually down to, you know… They like the look of me, but maybe I could find someone who loves me back a little. Someone who cares for me some.”

His voice is soft, gentle even. I miss half of what he’s trying to say because he’s trying to gently let me go. He’s kindly dumping me. “I cannot love someone whose job is pretending, because I’ll never know what is real.”

His words burn like acid.

“I broke my rules,” I whisper, like a confession. “Because I fell in love with you. It is real.”

I’ve imagined his response to me telling him I love him. Happiness. Confusion. Rejection. It’s none of those. There’s a pause. Long enough that hope starts to make my body seem a little lighter until he snaps at me, his tone harsher than I’ve ever heard from him as he turns on me. “That’s what you’re paid for,” he says, deathly quiet. “Making it sound real.”

My stomach lurches, and a sound comes out of me that’s more wounded animal than human, a brittle cry of pain inflicted without mercy. My eyes are stinging now, and I swipe at the tears. Is this what it’s like to have your heart breaking in real time?

“You are incredible at your job, Kait, but I need someone who can tell me their name. Someone who can curl up next to me. Someone who exists when the call is over. I need to be hugged and held. I need affection, not a girlfriend experience with fake everything.”

“I can do those things. I am that person.” The tears are flowing. I sniffle. “I have never faked a single thing with you, Henry Benedict Sterling. I have never lied to you.”

“You need to understand, I need a real life, not this fake fantasy life.” His tone is harsh, bordering on ugly.

I’m quiet but firm. “This has never been fake for me. Not for a minute. This—whatever it is—has always been real to me. You have always been special to me. I want to meet you. I want to be with you if you want that too.” The sniffles are impossible to hide.

I know this can be fixed. That’s the only thing keeping my chest from cracking open and my battered heart from spilling out.

“Tears won’t change my mind. I will not be manipulated.” Henry Sterling, mergers and acquisitions, has joined the conversation.

Anger rises up, bubbling in me, and threatening to boil over. He’s handed down his decision, judge and jury. Pure, fiery rage is welling up, but I mentally silence the anger and reach for love and kindness before I speak. He needs to be loved through this, not to have me tearing into him with anger. I love him, and the only way forward is to act like it. I’ll love him up, then surprise him Monday. Easy peasy.