Page 84 of She Was Made for Me

She gives a deep sigh. “You’re going to have to think about it. Yes, we could both move back to New York, and yes, we could work together, but… we can’t actuallybetogether if we don’t tell Dad about us.”

And there it is—the thing I let myself forget, up here at our little oasis by the lake. The thing that’sreallystanding between us and happiness.

Violet twists in her seat to face me squarely. “Why are you so reluctant to tell him? I understood when we didn’t know what this was, but we’re talking about building a future together. We can’t have that without him knowing.”

I look down at my hands, my stomach sinking. She’s right. We can’t have that life without him being on board. And I can’t imagine any scenario in which I tell him, and he’s okay with it. Anxiety rises within me.

“Your dad was there for me during a really tough time in my life. He had my back when no one else did, and I took on this project as a way to repay him for everything. Then he asked me to look out for you…” I shake my head. “Getting together with his daughter feels to me like the ultimate betrayal. It goes against everything in the friendship code, especially after all we’ve been through.”

Violet nods, nibbling on her bottom lip. “Can I ask what happened when he was there for you?” When I don’t answer, she adds, “I saw that book about anxiety on your nightstand, and you knew I’d had a panic attack that time in class. Is that… related?”

I sigh. I’ve been waiting all weekend for this question. I knew she’d seen the book because it was lying beside her the night I found her asleep on my bed, open to a heavily-annotated page. That book became my bible as I navigated my way through the transition into my new life here. I don’t rely on it as much as I once did, but it comes from a defining period in my life.

“Yes,” I say at last, realizing that I actually want to share this with her. I want to tell her about what drove me out of the city, because I want her to know the real me. And because I know she won’t judge me for what I’ve been through.

“The reason I knew you’d had a panic attack is because I used to have them. I had a lot of them.”

“Oh, Kyle.” Her face lines with compassion and she takes my hand, lifting it to her lips. “I only had the one and it sucked. I can’t imagine having more.”

A grim laugh chuffs out of me. “Yes, well, I didn’t have much choice. They started at work, mainly because of the stress of the job. I thought it was a heart attack at first, but then I learned the truth. I figured I had a handle on them, using a combination of meds to help, but ultimately, because I never removed the stress, I didn’t remove the symptom.”

“And Dad helped with that?”

“He took on some of my cases to help lighten my workload, talked me into going to therapy. And then…” I take a deep breath. This is the part that makes me look the worst, and I hate it. “My girlfriend, Lisa, couldn’t deal with it, couldn’t deal with me. She ended things and kicked me out of our apartment.”

Anger ignites in Violet’s eyes, and I love her for it. “She kicked you out? When you were at your lowest point?”

“Yes, but things were on the rocks with us for years, I just didn’t want to see it. Or rather, I was too busy and preoccupied to see it. Your mom and dad took me in without a word. They were there for me when my whole life fell apart.”

“Wait,” she murmurs, her eyes round. “I remember that. Not the details, but I remember someone from Dad’s work staying with them for a while when I started at DigiSwap. That was you?”

“That was me, sweetheart. I was a wreck, and your dad is the one who helped me get my life back together. He helped me find my place here, made sure I got a huge severance when I left the firm, and he’s called me every week since to make sure I’m all good. He’s truly the best friend I’ve ever had.”

“Right.” She gives a slow nod. “That’s why you don’t want to tell him about us. I understand so much more now.” Her breath comes out in a long, slow stream, and she reaches for her drink again. “Honestly, I’m not that thrilled about telling him either. He hired me to manage this project, and instead I ended up getting together with the foreman. Hardly a model of professionalism.”

“Notinstead,” I correct. “You’ve done an amazing job with the house. Your work hasn’t suffered at all.”

“Well.” She lifts a shoulder. “There’s also the other thing I’ve kept from him about my job for the last four years.” She cringes. “So really, I have two reasons to disappoint him.” She stares down into her drink, looking morose, and I watch her with a heavy heart. As worried as she might be, I don’t think Rich will be half as disappointed in her as he will be with me. She’s young, she’s allowed to make mistakes. I’m old enough to know better.

“Anyway.” She drains her drink and turns to me, doing her best to paint on a smile. It’s a single word, but it’s enough to tell me we’re shelving this conversation for the time being, and part of me is relieved. I want everything we’ve talked about, but I don’t have the answers we need right now.

Violet’s gaze flits to the lake, shimmering bright in the sun. “Have you ever gone skinny-dipping?”

A quiet laugh escapes me. “No. I have neighbors.”

She gives a cursory glance over each shoulder. “They can’t see.”

“Not from here, but they have a perfect view of the water. You can see their houses from the lake.”

A mischievous smile slides along her mouth. “So?”

I lift my brows. She can’t be serious. Old Mrs. McGrady next door would probably have a stroke if she were to glance out her front window. And then there’s Tom Marley, the guy who lives on the other side of me. He’s nice enough, but I’ve seen him leer at the young checkout girls at the local market. The thought of him getting an eyeful of Violet’s perfect body makes my skin crawl.

But she’s already rising from her chair and pulling her sundress over her head to reveal the black bikini underneath. Her complexion is a shade darker after more time in the sun, her shoulders now dusted with tiny freckles. I think again about how much this place suits her, and how I wish we didn’t have to leave.

My train of thought completely derails as she unties the strings of her bikini top, letting it fall to the ground. The bottoms follow. My eyes trail her skin, wanting to touch her for the millionth time this weekend, but then I catch myself. When I meet her gaze with a stern look, she giggles.

“Let’s go.”

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