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“It felt like I had no choice!” she shouts. “I was already scared out of my mind because of how fast you got under my skin. I thought I had walls up that would keep everyone away, and then you made them fall in a matter of weeks. And I wasgladthey fell, and that fucking terrified me. Then I find out that yourbestfriend is someone I’ve done wrong in the past, someonewho’s definitely heard about my other wrongdoings from my ex-husband. Someone who’d probably want to rip you away from me if she knew what was going on. I panicked, and—“

“And now,” I interrupt. “I know that you’re capable of doing it again. If one little thing scares you, and you can’t talk to me about it? You run away before thinking things through? This will always go up in flames. I’m always going to get burned.”

I’m crying now, and I’m filled with a bit of self-loathing for allowing her to see me so weak.

She stands from her seat, and I see the urge in her to comfort me. I raise a hand to stop her, and her face scrunches in a way that tells me she’s hurting just as much as I am.

But she doesn’t cry, she doesn’t lose her cool. She takes a few deep breaths, keeping the space between us.

“I’m so sick of hurting people wherever I go. I thought it was easier that way, if I never gave anyone a chance. I thought if I let everyone see the worst of me, I wouldn’t risk any of the good that was left.” She grabs the plates from the table, and walks them over to the sink. She doesn’t wash them, just leans over it with her palms on the counter. “And then you were just so…you. Sohuman. You just let yourself exist, and you feel your emotions, and I’ve never met anyone who did it so perfectly before. You tore down years of protective barriers just by being yourself, it was like your superpower.”

“But I didn’t,” I stop her. “Obviously. You found a way to build them back up in a matter of hours.”

“People do stupid stuff when they’re scared. I’m no different, as much as I’ve tried to be,” she confesses.

“We could have figured it out together. We could have come up with a plan.”

But you wouldn’t even try.

I begged her. I let myself be the weakest, most desperate version of myself as I begged, and it got me nowhere.

“Thank you for breakfast,” I add. “Don’t worry about the cleanup, I just need you to go.”

“I don’t want to go,” she says softly, turning to face me.

“I know. I never wanted you to either.”

The sentence stabs another hole through my heart.

She nods, accepting that I’m not going to budge.

“We’ll talk again?” she asks.

I tell her we will only to get her to leave so I can sit down on the cold floor and cry. We were barely even together. Coming from her, we strictlyweren’ttogether, but it felt like the worst breakup of my life anyway.

I had to grieve, and process without even really knowing her.

I don’t know how to undo all of that,becauseI barely know her.

30

I’ve seen what I needed to see of my life without Kara in it.

I love my life, I’m content with what’s in it. Even with the aches and pains of missing her, I could probably do it just fine. Those feelings would eventually fade.

I’m just too stubborn to let them.

“We’re going to get to know each other,” I explain as I get comfortable on Kara’s black, faux leather couch.

She looks at all of the things I’ve sprawled on the glass coffee table, and she’s speechless. I watch her open and close her mouth a couple times, like shewantsto give some response but doesn’t know how.

Ten points to Reya.

I went to the store and grabbed all of my comfort snacks, and some I thought she might like. I don’t even know her snack preferences, so that thought alone really solidified my plan to do this.

I haven’t often seen what it looks like when I take her by surprise, but it’s just as stunning as the rest of her looks. She wears bright blue biker shorts, and a tiny white tank top. She’s not wearing a bra, and it’s a miracle that I manage not to stare at her perky breasts, and the pointed nipples poking through the fabric.

Obviously I look alittle, but I don’t stare.