Page 68 of Crazy About Love (All About Love)

His body tenses, but he doesn’t look like he’s leaving anymore.

“When?”

“Yesterday.” I drop my arms to my sides. “That’s why…”

“Why you kissed me?”

I shake my head. “Why I drank so much.”

He studies me, and I study him, unsure of what he’s thinking. At first I think he’s upset, but then his expression changes so quickly that I think he’s dejected. He rubs at his hair, then gestures to the couch. We both sit, knees angled toward each other, and I tell him everything. How the open relationship was supposed to end up exclusive again, how I never allowed my heart to beat for anyone else, how I feel completely betrayed by promises that were never intended to be kept.

Somehow I don’t cry.

I can tell he doesn’t know how to react. It’s not surprising, given the information I’m throwing at him. I cautiously reach for his hand, needing to hold on to my friend.

“Do you think less of me?” I ask.

He shakes his head, dried paint flicking onto our joined fingers.

“Say something, then.”

“You might not like it,” he admits, his voice crackly from keeping silent for so long.

“Okay.”

“It might hurt you.”

“Say it anyway.”

His eyes meet mine. “Things are going to change. Between us. I know I promised they wouldn’t, but they will. They have.”

I nod. “I know.”

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t get it back. It’s just going to take time. My heart’s still…like yours. It’s not ready.”

He makes perfect sense, and his understanding and honesty don’t hurt the way I thought they would. It makes things better, like there is an answer to this, that down the road therewillbe a someday, not just an empty promise of “we’ll see.” Alec and I will get back to where we were; I can feel it.

I push up, my butt leaving the couch cushion so I can wrap my arms around his neck. His hands slide around my waist, creating warmth and comfort in places that have long been dank and dark.

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