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“Then . . .”

The story repeats itself. I hate it.

I know what he’s asking.

Then this is it?

“Yes,” I say. My voice doesn’t sound like me. It’s toneless and empty. Not even distant, cool, controlled. Just very, very, empty.

“Because of Olivia?” Pain flashes across his face and stabs me in the heart. “I know I should have told you about her sooner—”

“No, you didn’t have to,” I interrupt him. “You didn’t have to tell me anything at all,” I say and pray that he understands. I asked him to tell me his secrets, but I understand why he needed to keep Olivia to himself.

“Then why?”

“Because . . .” I wring my hands and wish I didn’t have to say it. I just want him to understand. Please. “It’s just . . . all too much.”

He goes pale, and I really hate this. All of it. But I have to do this, for him and for me. It’s better this way.

“Too much,” he echoes. But he must see the truth. It’s written all over my face, for sure. Not the truth about why I’m doing this but the truth that he stole my stupid heart and I don’t want it back at all.

“It’s not right. It never was. You’re my teacher.”

He pushes back his hair and looks as torn as I feel.

“Plus you have a daughter to think of. You’re responsible for another human being, and I’m . . . not ready for that yet.” It’s unfair of me to play that card, because he never asked me to be involved. Shit. We hadn’t even gotten that far. We didn’t even know what was really going on.

“You don’t have to be,” he objects, as if he’s reading my mind.

“Oh, really?” I straighten my back and force myself to keep a neutral expression on my face. “How do you imagine that working? Either we’re together or we’re not. We’ll find out, right? Because we have no idea what this is between us! We sleep together and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist. That’s not going to work! You have a daughter, and I have dreams.” Another card I play, even though I know it’s totally unfair. But I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I’m losing it. All I know is that it has to end and he has to leave, no matter how I make him do it.

Phoenix flinches, and my heart breaks.

It shatters, just like that.

It didn’t take much. All he had to do was flinch. I did the rest all by myself, and I can’t stop.

“I want to go to New York. I want to be in the ballet. I’m not ready for whatever you and Olivia are going to do. I’m not ready for anything. My head is full and I have dreams and plans. Yes, I know it’s selfish, but I’m not going to give any of that up. I’ve fought hard my whole life for this. I’ve given everything I had, and I’m still failing. But I’ll get up and keep going, because that’s what I always do. I can’t let anything hold me back. Or anyone,” I blurt out. I’m talking so fast that I almost trip over my words. I hate myself for every single word I say, but that’s nothing new. I’m used to it, somehow.

“You’re allowed to be selfish.” His voice is firm, his gaze is firm, and I need to yell at him. But I can’t do it. I don’t want to, anyway.

I want him, and that scares me, because it’s not right and we could lose everything if people found out about us. And they would find out, I know that. That’s always how it works. Secrets always come to light, and then there are two options: You go under or you get your happy ending. At least, that’s what books and movies tell us. Unfortunately, I think they’re pretty much right in this case. Except the most likely option would be that we both go under, each of us in a different way. I can’t let that happen.

“I know,” I reply. It’s a miracle that I haven’t burst into tears yet. “I have to focus on school and you have to focus on Olivia. What we had was doomed from the start. We always knew that, didn’t we?” I look at him imploringly.

He takes a step toward me, and I have to back away. Seriously. If he touches me right now, I’ll lose my resolve. But I stand rooted to the spot, and he brushes the back of my hand with his fingertips. That’s not fair. But I’m not being fair either, so I guess it’s just poetic justice.

“Is that true?” he asks, and that’s not okay. He knows why I’m saying this, doesn’t he? He must know. He’s seen through me from the beginning; there’s no way that now he suddenly can’t. Now of all times.

“Yes,” I manage to say, choking back my emotions. His fingers slide between mine, and I close my eyes automatically.

“Look at me, Ophelia,” he whispers. I don’t want to, but I can’t help it because he calls me Ophelia and because I love his voice, and yes, maybe I love him too. Who knows? Certainly not me. I don’t even know what love feels like.

I lift my head and look into his eyes. They’re dark and aware. His gaze burns into mine. I’d only have to take one step and lean in his direction, then I could kiss him. I’d have to kiss him. One last time. That must be okay, right?

No. No it isn’t, damn it.

“We were everything but doomed to fail from the start.”