“Sure.”
I had a drink. I said hi to my brothers. I pretended that everything was okay.
The entire time, my brain spiraled and spiraled. It tried to find the right way to say this. The right way to approach this. But as soon as I came up with something, I discarded it entirely. There was no right way.
It would be better for him to leave and never know. Cleaner. Simpler.
And a lie.
I couldn’t lie to him.
We could lie to everyone else, but I refused to do it with him.
So, I finished my drink. I got West to my car and drove us home. He was in a deliriously upbeat mood. I couldn’t quite match it, but I was so tired. The alcohol had done nothing but bring me down.
As soon as we stepped inside, I kicked off the shoes I’d had on all day. Even for someone used to heels, my feet hurt. I sighed in relief, and then there was West, picking me up and carrying me to the couch. He sat down and massaged my aching feet.
I nearly burst into tears right there. I loved this man. There was literally no denying it. I loved him, and he was leaving.
“West,” I choked out.
He looked up at me, realizing that everything had just gotten very serious. He came to his feet and ran a hand back through his hair, making the longer strands flop back into his face. “We should talk.”
“We should.”
“You can go first.”
“Okay,” I whispered. I looked down at my hands, took a deep breath, and then uttered the words I’d wanted to say for so long. “West, I’ve fallen in love with you.”
He stood stock-still. He didn’t say anything. He just stared at me.
I couldn’t sit under that gaze any longer. It didn’t matter that he was still a foot taller than me. I felt like a kid while sitting. I hastily got to my feet and crossed my arms over my chest.
“Say something,” I ordered him.
“What do you want me to say?”
I laughed hoarsely. “I don’t know. Anything.”
“I’m leaving tomorrow.”
I took a step backward and swallowed. “I know.”
“You knew this was happening.”
“We knew you were going back to LA, but not when. Not so soon. It could have been in August. We could have had more time.”
“But that’s not what happened,” he said forcefully.
“I know it’s not,” I gasped. “You got the dream. You got what you wanted. But…what does that mean for us?”
He paced away from me and back. “I don’t know, Nora.”
“Because I can’t pretend that the last couple of months didn’t happen. I can’t lie and say that I don’t feel anything for you. I do. And I think you do, too.”
His jaw set. He wouldn’t admit it. He felt it. It couldn’t be possible for us to have gone through the exact same experience and not come out feeling the same on the other side of it. This whole thing had been real.
“Say it, West,” I demanded. “Say something.”
“What should I say that would make any of this easier?”
“Tell me the truth.” Tears came to my eyes. Fuck, why did I cry so easily? I could feel him slipping through my fingers, and there was nothing I could do about it. “Tell me you feel something.”
“I feel something,” he admitted roughly. “Of course I feel something. Is that what you wanted? It doesn’t make it any easier.”
“We can figure something out.”