It’s all different now. I can tell. He’s more distant already, more casual about Dean and me. I don’t know why it’s hitting me so hard. It’s exactly what I expected. I mean, a year in New York City? I can’t possibly think of a better city to live in while trying to get over someone. How many new girls has he met over the months? How many new people has he surrounded himself with while doing events? Maybe he’s been dating. Maybe he’s already seeing someone.
And yet here I am, standing on this rooftop by his side, still hopelessly in love with him.
“I’m not going to tell you that I’m over you,” Tyler says eventually.
My eyes flicker open and I raise my head, studying his face as he continues to stare down at the avenue below. His jaw is still tightened, but he doesn’t look mad. Just serious. Straightening up, he stands back from the wall and turns to face me. And the second his vibrant eyes lock with mine, only one thing runs through my mind: hope.
“I’m not going to tell you that,” he says. “Because I’m not over you.”
7
It takes a long moment to fully absorb Tyler’s words, for them to actually hit me. At first I think he’s kidding, or that I’ve only heard what I want to hear, but then he smiles at me and they crinkle at the corners. The sincerity within them only makes me realize that he’s being totally honest.
“What?” I splutter, finally.
“It’s gonna take me a lot longer than a year without you to get over you.”
The atmosphere is so thick and suddenly everything feels deafeningly silent. So silent it almost hurts. But I can’t even process my thoughts, much less get out any words, and so I stare back at him even more dumbfounded than I was ten seconds ago. I shake my head, fast. There’s no way in hell this is really happening.
“But I thought—”
“You thought what?” He stuffs his hands into the front pockets of his pants and drops his eyes to the concrete. Weeds are growing through the cracks. “I’d come over to New York and move on just like that? You thought it would be that easy?”
I never prepared myself for this. I never even imagined Tyler would be standing in front of me saying these words. Yet he is. I’m so overwhelmed and stunned that I still don’t entirely believe him. I bite my lower lip. “But you’ve been acting different. You’ve been treating me like your sister.”
“Well,” Tyler says with a smirk, “you are.”
“Tyler.” I press my lips together and look at him hard.
He heaves a sigh as his smirk falters, running a hand back through his hair and rubbing the back of his neck. “Honestly, Eden? I thought you were over me. I didn’t want to be that asshole who messed with your head. I was gonna do the right thing. I was gonna keep my distance.”
I think if I wasn’t so numb, I would cry. But I just can’t seem to stop staring back at him from three feet away, my lips parted in disbelief. It takes me a second or two to muster up a reply, and then all I can murmur is, “Does Dean still bother you? You know, him and me?”
“No,” Tyler says.
“Why?”
He pauses to study me for a second. In the background, I can still hear New York City. It doesn’t even feel like we’re part of it anymore. The atmosphere is so tense that it feels as though we’re the only two people around for miles, like we’re on this rooftop in the middle of nowhere. My eyes are set on him and nothing else. “Because if you’re not going to be with me,” he says, “then I’m happy that you’re at least with him. He’s good for you.”
The numbness stops, so quickly that I can almost feel my chest collapsing all at once. It feels heavy, like my ribcage might just shatter, and it only takes me a second to realize that it’s all because I feel so guilty, so awful, and so, so confused. In that exact moment, my thoughts on everything seem distorted. Being with Dean seems wrong. Being with Tyler even more so.
“Look, Eden, we shouldn’t be having this conversation,” Tyler says after a while. He must realize that I’m not going to reply. My voice has disappeared. “Why does any of this matter? You’ve got Dean.”
I grit my teeth, grinding them together as I try to relax the tightness in my stomach. I shouldn’t be in this situation. It’s unfair, and it’s all because our parents had to randomly be in the same parking lot one day. Dad pulled into the spot Ella was about to maneuver into. She got out the car and argued. He bought her coffee to apologize. And so I blame that sought-after parking spot for causing all of this. Why did our parents have to meet? Why did I have to end up with a stepbrother like Tyler and, more importantly, why the hell did I have to end up falling for him? Sometimes, like right now, I hate the way the world works.
“It matters because I’m nowhere near over you yet, Tyler. That’s why this matters, because I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.”
“Don’t fucking say that,” he mutters, his voice coarse. Coarse, yet somehow attractive. Familiar, in a way.