Page 41 of Match Made in the Maldives

“It’s not, though.”

“It is.” She throws her hands up in the air. “You joke that I’m the one wanting to keep you as some dirty little secret, but that’s whatyouwant, not me.”

“That’s not true.”

“I’ve been vulnerable, intimate with you, in a way I…I haven’t been with anyone else, ever. You get me to bring my guard down and then—” Her eyes turn glossy with unshed tears, so she reaches up and swipes them away. “I just thought you liked me. Liked all of me.”

“I do, Lou. I do.” Sitting next to her, I rest a hand on her thigh. The sight of Lou crying guts me. “But we knew going into this a relationship would have complications with your family and all.”

“How can you say this? You’re the one telling me to focus on what I want, not what anyone else wants.”

“You’ve been born into this built-in support system.” My voice rises in frustration. “They love you no matter what.”

“And they loveyouno matter what.”

“It’s different for me.”

“What are you afraid of?” She rests her hand on mine. “Be honest.”

I lean forward, elbows on my knees and head in my hands. “Your parents, your brother, everyone. They’re a family I didn’t even realize I needed.” I think back to that introverted little kid who had no friends, the one who spent nights in bed unable to sleep because of the danger lurking in his own home. “I can’t lose them, and I’d rather not complicate things with them.”

“But you’re losingme. You’re complicating things withme.”

“And that was a mistake. We never should have done this.” My reply lands like shattered glass, and I want to shove each word back in my mouth and chew them down. “That came out wrong.”

She pulls her hand back to her lap, slow and measured. “A mistake.”

“That’s not what I—”

“No, you’re right. If being with me is too difficult because of my family, that doesn’t work for either of us.”

I link one of her hands in mine, grasping at any shred of connection. “Can we please start this conversation over?”

“If losing them scares you that much, there’s nothing you or I can do. And I won’t sit here and try to work miracles to convince you to be with me.”

“You don’t need to.”

“My brother was a dick just now, insulting you and me, and the first thing you care about is apologizing to him,” she says, more tears pooling in her eyes. “Not to mention, you flat-out denied we were sleeping together. Make this make sense.”

“I called him a piece of shit.”

“Yeah, and he deserved it.”

“You’re making it seem like I have to choose between him or you.” I run a frantic hand through my hair. I can still fix this. “Please, Lou, if you—I’ll go, I’ll tell your brother I’m sorry, and we can talk more about this, okay?”

“No.”

The refusal is a knife to the chest. I’m giving her all I can, and it’s not enough.

I’mnot enough. Not enough to reassure her, not enough to figure my shit out and give her what she wants.

“You’re right.” She sniffles and wipes under her eyes. “This is different for me than it is for you, and I’m asking too much of you. We can…I guess chalk this up to a vacation fling. Move on. Never talk about it again.”

“That’s not what you want.”

“No. But you clearly don’t know what you want.”

I search her face. Fuck, I hate how she won’t make eye contact with me for longer than two milliseconds, almost as much as I hate how hard she’s trying not to cry. Already, she’s putting her walls back up.

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