I blink back tears, refusing to let them fall in public. And they retreat, just like I knew they would. But it doesn’t stop my heart feeling like it’s once more being ripped into two.
Our hands meet on the couch in between us, fingers overlapping, connecting us together when it feels we’re twice as far apart in the moment. I swear I can see right down into his soul when I stare into his blue eyes. So much sadness. So much love. So much pain. He hides it so well, far better than me, that’s for sure. It’s only in these small moments, usually brought on by my touch, that his fa?ade cracks enough to let me glimpse what we both know to be truth.
I want to hold him and swear that I will find a way to fix this. I wish Caleb was talking to me right now. He’s been radio-silent for longer than he’s even been gone before. You need to start figuring things out for yourself, he told me last time we spoke. It’s time for you decide what’s best for you. I can’t hold your hand forever.
You’re my Conscience, I argued. Aren’t you supposed to tell me what to do? Because, now’s the time, buddy. I could really use somebody telling me what to do.
That’s the problem, he said. I’m supposed to help you figure out things, not dictate. Lately, it seems like that’s all I’m doing, and . . . I can’t do that anymore. This isn’t something I can choose for you. I can’t pick who you end up with. Only you can.
“It’s going to be okay, C.” Kellan’s voice is low, so no one else around us can hear. “I swear. It’s going to be okay. We will get through this. We’ll make this work. We will all be okay.”
But he can’t promise this. And he knows it.
“Do you mind if I join you?”
Sophie Greenfield is standing over me, an unreadable expression on her face. I pick up my backpack and set it on the ground.
She sits, ankles crossed. “How are you doing?”
I’d just gotten out of my one class at the U. What I wouldn’t give right now to be having a typical college experience at a school that actually assigned me homework. I don’t even know why I bother with a backpack. Wishful thinking? “Good, thanks.”
She’s more in control of herself than she was the night she accosted me and Jonah. In fact, she looks . . . not happy, but calm. Cool. “How’s Jonah?”
Well, this is awkward. Why is she talking to me? I wonder if I can make my phone conveniently ring. “Also good.”
She nods, eyes mysterious behind dark sunglasses. “And Kellan?”
And . . . there it is. I don’t know if I can do this with her right now. I have a hard enough time thinking about him, let alone talk about him with anybody. I pray my voice doesn’t squeak. “Everyone’s good.”
She purses her lips together, watching me behind those dark glasses. Then a small smile cracks, one that isn’t kind in the least. Warning bells sound. “You and he are quite close, aren’t you?”
What’s her point? Hasn’t she asked this question before?
“At first, I thought I was seeing you with Jonah at the coffee shop the other day.” A perfectly manicured hand is held up to examine the tips. “Sometimes, from a distance, it’s hard to tell them apart.”
It takes no time to understand what instance she’s referring to.
“I was out shopping with your friend Lizzie, and we happened to be in a store right across the street from where you guys were . . . having lunch? Coffee? I saw you through the window. You can understand why I thought it was Jonah, because his arm was around you.”
This. Isn’t. Happening. Is it? Kill me now. “It was more like across the back of the couch, really.”
“Hmm. I considered that until you two held hands.” She continues inspecting her nails. “Which is an interesting thing for somebody to do with her fiancé’s brother.”
I claw at the bench below me, but decide to not play this game with her. “What’s your point, Sophie?”
“Do you two hang out like that often?”
A splinter slides in between my nail and finger, but I don’t care. “If I’m not mistaken, Kellan is no longer any of your business.”
“I wonder if Jonah has any idea of just how close his brother and fiancée are.”
I let go of the bench as a whoosh of laughter escapes me. Is she contemplating holding this over my head? So she can—what?—get me to convince Kellan to take her back? “Yes.”
“Is he, though?”
“Yes,” I answer as firmly as I can. It’s mostly true.
One of her perfectly groomed eyebrows arches up.
“If you think he needs to know,” I say, “by all means, go and tell him about your concern.”
She picks off a piece of her red nail polish, marring the perfection. “Everyone warned me that Kellan only forms superficial bonds with women. But what I think no one realizes is that he does have a very strong bond with someone.”
I don’t respond.
The red speck is flicked forwards. “That day we had lunch—everything changed. And I think you and I both know why.”
I force myself to sound firm. “I’m done with this conversation.”