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“Lizzie?” he said, his voice rough with sleep and an emotion I couldn’t decipher at first. I sat up and he sat up too, then tentatively reached to touch the bare skin between my shoulder and neck as he whispered, “Sweetheart, are you really here, or am I dreaming?”

I had come into his bedroom in the middle of the night for the first time ever. He wasn’t wearing his glasses—he wouldn’t have been able to see much of me, let alone the distress in my body language. Calvin, half-asleep and apparently living in perpetual hope, had misread the reason for my late-night visit.

I panicked and fumbled for his glasses on the bedside table, handing them to him clumsily as I stammered, “Sorry—sorry I woke you. I just—I wanted to—I was hoping we could talk about Henry. That’s all. Just Henry.”

Calvin donned his glasses. I shifted a little farther down the bed, away from him, then dared to meet his gaze. My cheeks were hot with shame, but Calvin didn’t seem embarrassed—only disappointed.

“I talked to him tonight,” I said, the words tumbling out in a flustered rush. “I just... I’m just worried about him, that’s all. I know you thought us speaking to him together wasn’t the best idea in case he felt cornered, but I think we need to do it. Maybe over the weekend when we all have time.”

“Of course,” Calvin said quietly. “Anything you need. Are you okay?”

I realized with dismay thatthiswas why I woke Calvin up. I was upset, and Calvin always knew how to fix things. Even in that moment, when the uneven emotions between us had never been more evident, Calvin did not miss a beat in his care and attention.

“I’m fine,” I said, and I slid off his bed, suddenly desperate to get out of the room. “I’m sorry for—I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wasn’t thinking straight.”

That night, I realized for the very first time that I was torturing Calvin. Yes, he had me living in his house and in his life, and yes, we were the best of friends—but I was ever so slightly out of reach anyway, and even after all of those years, he continued to hope for what could never be.