Page 62 of Our Radiant Embers

“It’s not.”

“No,” he said, “it is. Listen, I’m so grateful for all your help, all right? You have no idea.” Sunlight caught the blue of his eyes and the glint of his smile. “If that means you weren’t reading your emails quite that carefully? I’m okay with that. And I don’t need our name all over this construction site—I really don’t.”

I lost a second staring at the curve of his upper lip. “But it would be fair.”

“Who says life is fair?”

I thought about tracing the curve of his jaw, about kissing my way down his throat, fingers slotted together. No good response came to mind, nothing that wouldn’t seem out of context to him. So I nodded and dragged my attention away.

It wasn’t fair, no. But such was life.

* * *

“It’s okay to be sad, you know?” Cassandra took a swig from her bottle. It contained some electrolyte-rich vitamin drink that smelled like unwashed laundry, so I’d declined her offer of a taste. “This is the closest thing you’ve had to a breakup.”

“Last I checked,” I said, “a relationship is a precondition for a breakup. Also, you weren’t sad.”

Before Amit, she’d dated a couple of other guys, back in uni. When things inevitably fell apart, she’d been more the type to drag me to a paintball field rather than sob her way through a bunch of rom-coms.

“True.” She leaned back on the sleek leather sofa, a reflection of electric fire flickering over her features. The gym lounge was quiet at this time of day, after lunch and before the evening rush. “But I’m hardly a role model for healthy coping mechanisms, am I?”

“Not going to challenge you on that.”

She arched an imperious eyebrow. “Rude.”

“Do you want the truth or something beautiful?”

“And on that note…” No one knew how to level me with a stare quite like Cassandra. “Generally speaking, yes, a relationship is a precondition for a breakup. But honey, you’ve been spending more time with him lately than with me—and that’s saying something since I see a lot of your stupid precious mug.”

I swallowed my instinctive denial. The facts were on her side—ever since Liam had accepted my offer to help, I’d been over there most days. It was good to feel useful.

“Okay, yeah.” I slid lower on the sofa and gazed at the modern interpretation of a chandelier above our heads. I preferred Liam’s playful version. “But that was partly down to the Initiative, right? Not like we spent that time holding hands and whispering sweet nothings to each other.”

“You had dinners with his family,” she said. “More than once.”

Because dinners at the Morgans’ were much more fun than the formal atmosphere at home. While Gale quietly ate his meal, my father and Eleanor tended to catch up on business with my uncle chiming in on occasion, Christian mostly sulked to himself, and his sisters talked about school only when prompted. I joined the business discussion sometimes, but it wasn’t like my opinions mattered.

Children should be seen, not heard.

“We’re friends,” I said. If the word caught in my throat, well, so be it.

“No,” Cassandra said. “You and I are friends. You and Liam? You’re the very definition of ‘it’s complicated’.”

“I think he drew a pretty clear line to erase those complications.”

She was quiet for a beat, then leaned over to rest her head on my shoulder. “He might come around, you know?”

“Even if he does…” I inhaled. Exhaled. “I can’t ask him to be my secret. He deserves better.”

“That’s his call, not yours.” Cassandra gave my knee a gentle squeeze. “Also, just think about it for a second—what if there was some way to be open about it?”

“I can’t. You know I can’t.” I wasn’t sure why the words held a tinge of desperation when I’d long since made my peace with it. “I can’t expose Gale and the others like that. If people realise that I’m the only Nova…”

It might happen anyway, sooner or later. But I wouldn’t be the reason it happened sooner.

“Gale wouldn’t want you to put your life on hold for him.” Cassandra sighed. “Christian—well, he’s an immature brat who feels the world owes him, so who knows. And the girls are too young to get it. But Gale? You know he wouldn’t want that for you.”

“It’s not his choice whether I’m going to protect him or not.”