Did Mom tell her? No, she'd say something.
"Don't make me compare you to Mom again," she says.
"It's not good for us," I say.
"I know." She motionsso say it.
"What if I don't want to talk about it?"
"You get to lecture me about sex. Why can't I lecture you about whatever this is?"
"I like him." I can tell her that. "I thought I could keep it strictly sexual, but I like him, and we just… I have to end things."
"Because you like him?"
"For a lot of reasons."
"Sounds like there's one reason," she says.
Maybe. I am scared. That is true. But look at Mom. I destroyed her and I'm still here.
With what happened with his sister—
How could he ever love me? Trust me?
How could I ever trust him to see that side of me?
"It's not going to work," I say.
"Because…"
"His sister…" What can I say that won't give me away? "I found something about her, something I'm not supposed to know."
She raises a brow. "Is she a porn star?"
"No."
"An assassin."
"No. She died."
She frowns. "Oh. That sucks. But what does that have to do with you? Is this really because you went digging for something he didn't tell you, because everyone does that?"
"No. It's just… we're not compatible."
"Because…"
"I can't explain it," I say. "But I know."
She taps the table with her fingertips. "I know what you would tell me to do."
"You do?"
"Oh yeah. Easy. Talk to him."
That is good advice.
"If you're sure you're going to end things, what's the harm in an actual conversation? Or is that the harm? Are you scared you won't end things and fall in love and get your heart broken?"