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“Oh, God, no, you can’t let me off the hook,” I say, backing out of his embrace and frowning. “No, it wasn’t like that. It wasn’t. I didn’t… I didn’t cheat last night, it was this morning. I was conscious of what I was doing, I just… did it anyway.”

“Oh.” He looks down at the ground, considering. “Well, okay, that’s significantly worse.”

I grimace, nodding my head. “Sorry. I should have led with that, but I thought… I thought the word ‘cheating’ would probably get the point across.”

Looking back up at me, he asks, “So, what, are you two back together now?”

“No. No, that’s… He’s bad for me. All of last night was a symptom of Derek. I mean, they were my actions, but it’s what he does to me. I lose my mind around Derek.”

“But he won’t be around anymore?”

Frowning, not understanding the relevance, I shake my head wordlessly.

Henry nods. “All right. I forgive you.”

“What? Why?”

Sighing and raking his hand through his hair, he says, “Because, Nikki, I didn’t even take the day off to come to your father’s wedding. You never ask anything of me—other than food—and I didn’t even take the day off for you. I just canceled our date the other night to stay late at work. I’m not winning any boyfriend awards, either. You and I have not even slept together yet,” he states, raising his eyebrows. “We are the junio

r high equivalent of boyfriend and girlfriend.”

Now I take a few steps back, dropping into my office chair. “Wow. This is not the response I was expecting. You’re so calm. Does this even hurt?” I ask. Obviously I didn’t want to hurt him, but shouldn’t it hurt?

Instead of answering, he cocks a knowing eyebrow and asks, “If I walked in here, sincerely apologetic, and told you I fucked another woman, but I’m profoundly sorry and it will never happen again, would it hurt you?”

I frown, mulling over the scenario in my head. It would be annoying, certainly. Insulting, most definitely. But would it hurt?

It should hurt. Derek didn’t even cheat on me, and his whole involvement with Kayla hurts me so much, I can’t even bear to think about it.

“We aren’t doing this relationship right,” I tell him.

“No,” he agrees.

I shift in my chair, so uncomfortable in this moment, and yet unable to leave it. Henry’s calmness is keeping me here like a hostage with a gun to my head, waiting for the switch to flip, for him to realize I’ve wronged him, for him to lash out, but I don’t think it’s coming. I don’t think he’s in shock, I think… I think he doesn’t really care.

I’m not sure if I’m asking myself or him, but the words fall out for both of us to hear. “What are we doing here, Henry?”

“I’m not sure,” he answers honestly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m not angry at you, Nicole. If I thought he’d make you happier… I don’t know. Maybe I’d even tell you to go.”

How is that not love? Love is wanting another person to be happy, even if they’re happy without you. If I’m being honest, I would tell Henry the same thing. If one day he decided I wasn’t enough for him with my half-assed, unhealthy version of love, I couldn’t resent that. I would set him free and wish him well, and I wouldn’t be bitter about it.

So, does that mean we sort of love each other, or we never will?

“I don’t know how to have healthy relationships,” I tell him. “I run from my feelings, and when they catch me, I make terrible decisions in an attempt to deal.”

His lips curve up faintly, but not with real amusement. “Yes, I noticed. To be honest, after seeing you last night, I’m not even all that shocked to hear this. How fucked up is it that the most shocking part of last night for me was when you hugged me without prompting and then kissed me in front of your dad?”

“Really fucked up,” I say, nodding my head tiredly. “I’m sorry for that. I withhold affection because I’m a coward.”

“And because I’m not dominant enough,” he says, dryly.

Gasping in horror, I cover my face. “Oh, God, no. You heard that?”

“My manhood was a little wounded, but after a review of the facts, I can see why you think that. I haven’t even kidnapped you and taken advantage of your drunkenness. What kind of asshole boyfriend am I?”

I shouldn’t laugh, but his summary of Derek is so fucking accurate, I can’t help myself.

Henry offers a faintly self-deprecating smile, then he peels off his suit jacket and tells me, “At any rate, I’m spending the night tonight.”


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