She turned her head, afraid to look at me.
“Don’t do that,” I told her.
“Do what?” she asked, fiddling with a bit of hay that laid at her hand.
“Avoid looking at me when I bring up Ethan? When all I’m asking is for a simple declaration from you telling me that you love him. That you’re with him because you love him.”
“I do love him,” she said, still playing with the straw.
“Look at me.”
She lifted her gaze and stared straight through me. I wanted to fall on my knees and beg her to deny it, but I didn’t. I stood as still as a statue, waiting.
“I do love Ethan,” she spoke.
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Say it like you’re not talking about any one of your family.”
Her head dropped quickly, then picked it back up. Her mouth opened and shut like a fish out of water.
“What I thought,” I said.
Tears streamed down her face. “You don’t understand,” she explained. “He’s so loyal to me, and right now I cherish that more than anything. I rely on him so much.”
“I can give you loyalty,” I told her softly, honestly.
She shook her head. “His loyalty is fifteen years old, Spencer. And that’s kinda the point of loyalty, isn’t it? When someone shows it to you, you have an obligation to return the favor.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it! You can’t base the rest of your life off of that, Cricket! Loyalty is commendable, yes, necessary, yes, but it’s not what makes a marriage happy.” We both paused for a moment, only our breathing present. I watched her carefully. “And that’s what you’re going to do, right? Marry him?”
“Maybe...eventually. I don’t know!” she exclaimed.
“What?!” I asked, frustrated beyond belief. “Cricket, I just-you’re not making any sense to me. That’s so illogical. In marriage, there has to be love. Trust me,” I said, thinking on my parents. “If you don’t want to be miserable forever, if you want to carve out even a small niche of happiness for yourself in marriage, you have to love the other person. And passionately. If-if you don’t have that, you have nothing,” I finished, sagging back against the wall.
“I think I could learn to love him,” she said, trying to convince herself, I thought, more than me.
“Cricket,” I begged, “if you haven’t done so yet, it’s never going to happen.”
“You don’t know that!”
“I-I don’t know what to say to you right now. You seem so afraid, but you won’t tell me why.”
“We’re not together, Spencer. You deserve no answer from me.”
My jaw clenched. “No, we’re not together. You’ve made that quite clear, and for no reason whatsoever it seems. You’re not the drama type, Cricket, so I don’t get why you’re fighting this so much.”
“I can’t do this,” she said, standing up but instead of leaving, she just watched me, practically pleading for me to take her.
I rushed her and pinned her body against the wall. Only our foreheads touched, our hands hung at our sides. She closed her eyes; both our breathing was strained, ready to burst with desire. It felt too heavy to breathe, too difficult. I closed my eyes as well, wanting to grab her in my arms and kiss her so hard, but I didn’t. I hadn’t been given permission.
“I know you’re falling in love with me,” I told her.
She nodded her forehead into mine, our noses almost touching; our lips mere centimeters apart. It was such a dangerous game, but I didn’t care if I lost. I just wanted to play.
“Please,” I begged her, my tongue heavy and thick. “Tell me it’s okay to kiss you.”
She moaned, pinching her lids tighter together as if in anguish. She wanted me just as badly as I wanted her.
“Just say one tiny word, Cricket. Just one word and I’ll have you. I’d be so good to you, Cricket,” I told her. She groaned deeper and shook her head back and forth against mine. “I’d adore you forever,” I promised. “Just one word, Cricket, and we’d be so good together, perfect really. One word,” I breathed again. I could feel her breaking down. Her face lazily pitched toward mine, imploring me to take her lips with mine, to explore her mouth with mine. I wouldn’t budge, though. I needed permission. She needed to say it. “Cricket,” I exhaled. “Jump with me.”