Page 135 of A Ballad of Betrayal and Beauty

I try to shake it away. The unpleasant feeling of seeing Key’s ring on her finger. My thumb brushes against it, feeling the individual grooves of the string wound around and around.

“You don’t have to worry, Joel,” he finally says. “You won.”

I clear my throat. “Won?”

“You won her,” he admits with a shrug. “She loves you. She told me herself. She hasn’t left your side since we got here. So, you don’t have to worry. She made her choice—and it’s you.”

I chew on my split bottom lip. “Key . . . it was never supposed to be a competition. I didn’t even know?—”

“I know,” he says. “I had so much time with her. Time that . . . while it was the happiest I’ve ever been, it was also the most difficult. But now she can have her perfect ending.”

A tear slips from the corner of his eye.

“She deserves that.”

He reaches forward to brush a stray curl away from her face, tucking it ever so gently behind her ear. Her breathing slows, a subtle sigh reverberating somewhere down deep. Key looks up at me and smiles, then turns to head for the door.

The knots tighten in my stomach. I don’t want him to leave. I only ever thought about how Key and my relationship might change with me being in a relationship. But being with the girl he’s still clearly in love with? And her with him? That scenario never crossed my mind, and now that it’s playing out, there’s a sudden peaceful clarity that takes over.

Why do Ihaveto choose? The two most important people in my life are here. Will I just let one of them walk away? Besides, I know something Key doesn’t seem to be able to see.

“Key, wait.”

He stops and brushes at his cheeks before angling his body my way. “Yeah?”

“She loves you too.”

His lips part, and for a moment his eyes flick between Dusty and me. “No. No . . . she just—I realize what it looked like when we hugged at the house, but that’s because of?—”

“She loves you, idiot,” I say around a laugh. “She always has and, well, she probably always will.”

“She said that?”

“She doesn’t need to. I can see it. It’s in the way she looks at you. The way she touched you. Key, she kept your songs. How much more proof do you need?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says, pressing his hand to his face. “She may still have feelings for me, but she made her choice.”

I take a deep breath. “What if she didn’t know there was another option?”

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

I almost roll my eyes at how obtuse he’s being but restrain myself. “What I mean is, we hardly live a normal lifestyle.”

“What—”

“We could both have her. Share her. Love her, together.”

Something eases in my chest when comprehension dawns in his hazel eyes. He takes a few tentative steps toward us.

“You would—you’d be okay with that?”

I nod. “Yeah, I would.”

He sniffs, tension locking up his shoulders. “She might not want that,” he whispers.

“No, she might not. But maybe she feels the same way I do.”

He tilts his head. “And how’s that?”

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