Page 65 of Parallel

He stares at me for a long moment, shaking his head like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “My God, Quinn. Have you felt like this all along? I thought you agreed. I thought you wanted thehouse.”

“I didn’tnotwant it,” I admit. “I just didn’t know that it was going to mean giving up everything I wantedmore.”

“You should have told me,” he says. His shoulders are rounded. Every last bit of confidence he’s regained these past few months seems stripped away from him. “I had noidea.”

My inclination is to take it back, to apologize, but I don’t. “And I had no idea you thought me going back to Georgetown was a sign that my brain wasmalfunctioning. You might have said that in private instead of announcing it to my doctorsfirst.”

He’s silent, and then he leans over and pulls me in for a hug. As much as I want to resist, I don’t. “I’m sorry,” he says. His voice is choked. “I want to be what you need, but this whole situation brings out the worst in me. Everything’s changing, and I hate it. I don’t know what’s going on with us, but I feel like I can’t do anything right with younow.”

I let my head drop to his shoulder. This situation has gone too far and it’s entirely my fault. I’ve been pushing him aside ever since that first day at the inn, before I even knew Nick existed. I’ve been telling myself I was protecting him, but when Nick spent the night in my hospital room, when he went with me to meet Grosbaum, when we wound up staying together in Baltimore…I didn’t keep those things to myself because of Jeff’s tender feelings. I did it because I knew they shouldn’t have happened. Each step has been slightly less justifiable than the one beforeit.

I swallow, forcing myself to make a suggestion I probably should have made long before. “Should we call off thewedding?”

His head jerks back. “Call it off?Why?”

I was hoping it would be obvious to him. “Because we aren’t getting along. I mean, are you even sure you still want to getmarried?”

“Of course I do! What kind of question isthat?”

His astonishment leaves me flustered.Surelythe thought has occurred to him at least once? “It’s just…I’m just being realistic.” I press my lips together, staring out at the dense summer foliage just beyond the parking garage. These are the last few days of July, and I don’t even know if I’ll have another one. “We don’t want the same kind of life. You want to move home and live on a farm, which is my idea of hell. I’m keeping you from all the things you want in the world, aside from me, and the truth is that neither of us knows how long I’m even going to bearound.”

His eyes well. “But you’re the part that matters, Quinn. You. Not living back home. Not the farm. Okay? So, we are still getting married. If you want to cancel the big wedding, we’ll do that. People will get it, under the circumstances. I’ll talk to the church down the street and see if they can open something up nextweekend.”

I freeze. The dread I’ve been feeling—about the future, about staying with Jeff—it sinks into my very bones at his words. “Next weekend?” I repeat, my voice too breathy. “I don’t know if we can pull it together thatfast.”

“Just family and close friends,” he says. “You’ve already got the dress. Instead of a reception, maybe we just go to dinnersomewhere.”

An anchor sinks deep in my stomach. I made a commitment—to Jeff, to my father—and it’s not as if Nick’s an option anyway. I look at the tears in Jeff’s eyes and my shoulders sag. I’m not sure a year or two of independence would be worth the number of people I’d have to hurt to gainit.

* * *

That night,I try to persuade Jeff to leave town as planned for his bachelor/camping weekend, but he insists on staying. “I’ll leave in the morning instead,” he says. “Let’s just have a nice night in. It’s been toolong.”

It’s probably what we need. A night where we’re enjoying something together instead of a night where I’m thinking about all the things he’s not. I could have watchedInceptionwith him last night. There’s this ugly assumption inside me that Jeff can’t quite fill Nick’s shoes in any given situation, but I’m not even giving him the chance totry.

“South Park?” he asks after dinner, turning on theTV.

“Let’s watchInception,” I tell him, ignoring the strain on his face when I say it. Just because he prefers to watch comedies doesn’t mean he’s incapable of feeling something as deeply as Nickdoes.

It starts. I’m every bit as riveted as I was the last time, perhaps even more since I know just how badly it’s all going to go. Jeff doesn’t look particularly intrigued, but he’s not complaining either.Give it a chance, Quinn. Give him achance.

At the forty-minute mark, he sighs and hits pause. “I’m sorry, hon,” he says. “This movie doesn’t make a damn bit of sense. You keep watching. I’m going tobed.”

I want to argue. For some reason it seems like my entire future, the fate of our relationship, rests on just getting him to the end of the movie. And that’s insane. He doesn’t have to like what I like. I don’t like to watch football and that’s not a dealbreaker forhim.

But as soon as he’s gone the next day, I do what I absolutely should not. I pick up the phone and callNick.

31

NICK

Ever since Quinn left my office yesterday, I’ve been hunting for a solution that doesn’t exist. There’s a very good reason doctors can’t date their patients, especially in a situation like ours. It’s possible we could tell the right lies and hide it enough to get away with it, but that still wouldn’t make itethical.

Yet the minute I get her call, I know I’d be willing to do itanyway.

She insists on driving herself. We arrange to meet at a market near the lake, since my parents’ place is off a series of unmarkedroads.

“And pack the red bikini,” I add, only half-joking.

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