"Well I hope you didn’t use the sleeping together line as an icebreaker. I don’t think details are necessary.”
I thought I saw her crack a smile, which thankfully served to lessen the tension. “I didn’t give her all the details. Or any really. I just told her we’d been dating for a little while.” I’d hoped that Lily would be relieved that I’d finally told Eva, but she looked agitated. “What? What’s wrong?” I studied Lily’s face for an answer that I didn’t find. “That’s what you wanted, right? For Eva to know?”
She shook her head, clearly disappointed. “I wasn’t upset you didn’t tell Eva. I was upset that you told me you did.”
“Well, I didn’t exactly tell you I did. Just that I’d take care of it.” I was grasping at straws and I knew it.
“Jesus, Adam. That’s semantics. You know what I’m saying. Lying by omission is still lying. You of all people should know that.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right.” It was all I could think to say. “I should’ve told you.” She’d stopped eating, and I took her hand in mine as I focused my eyes on hers. I hoped she would see the remorse behind them. I was trying my best to be honest. Well, almost my best. “There’s something else,” I said quickly. “I told you I’d be truthful.”
“What?” I could hear the fear in her voice.
“It’s not anything bad,” I blurted out, hoping to ease her nerves. I took a deep breath. Here goes nothin’. “That night . . . when I showed up at your apartment and you asked me what had changed . . . I said I’d changed. Well I left out the part where Max came to talk to me.”
“Max?” Her voice raised as she said his name. I didn’t like hearing her say it at all. “Came to talk to you?” She shook her head and clenched her eyes as if she was trying to shake the thought of him from her brain. “Why?”
I figured the best option in this situation was just to be direct. “He told me he’d leave us alone.”
“What does that mean?”
“Uh . . . I’m hoping it means exactly that . . . he’ll stay out of our lives. Because, I swear if he doesn’t—” I stopped mid-sentence, trying my best to remain calm. I silently added “talking about Max Samson” to the increasingly long list of conversations I’d rather not have. Although truthfully, it had probably been at the top of that list the whole time.
“Relax, Adam. We don’t have to talk about him,” she said, nearly reading my thoughts. She swept a stray lock of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear before grasping my hand in hers. Relief washed over me simply because she’d been the one to initiate physical contact this time.
Did that mean she forgave me for not telling Eva about us? For not telling her Max had been the reason I’d decided to finally take our relationship to the next level? The look in her eyes told me she'd already let it all go. There was no icy stare. No intense line of questioning. I'd apologized, and she'd forgiven me. Just like that.
But it shouldn't have been just like that. Because I knew that I had more to come clean about. More to confess: my night with Carly. Gazing at her, watching the forgiveness seep from her, I couldn't bear to ask for any more. In that moment, it was all about moving forward, and I didn't want to jeopardize that by telling her about a fling that had meant nothing. I knew what it was like to realize the person you cared about had been with someone else. And I didn't want her to feel that pain.
So I took the coward's way out and remained silent in order to not doom us before we ever even began. Standing across from me, Lily radiated strength. Strength in her conviction that we could work. That we would work. And as I lowered my head to her neck, kissing her softly, I let her strength be enough for the both of us.
I could probably learn a thing or two from her.
Chapter 25: Lily
As I climbed the stairs to my apartment, I couldn’t help the anxious feeling I had. I had spent extra time at work, trying to immerse myself in correcting papers and lesson planning to get my mind off of Max. But when that didn’t work, I went to the gym to blow off some steam. Unfortunately, none of it did jack shit to lessen the nagging feeling I had in the back of my brain that told me I had to see him. I had to know why he’d done it. And I couldn’t risk asking him over the phone, where he could easily lie to me. Only his eyes could assure me of the truth. No, I was going to have to do it in person.