Page 7 of Can't Help Falling

“You’re in your forties,” she continued, “which doesn’t bother me, but even at this stage of your life, you show no interest in anything beyond seeking your own comfort and having fun while you do it, which does bother me.”

“Serafine,” he started again, looking like he thought there was still a chance for him to argue himself into a date.

Nope. Sorry not sorry. She went in for the kill stroke, deciding to, mercifully, grant him a swift and final death.

“You cling to Matty and Seb instead of living a life of your own. You’re charming, sure. Good looking in a Zack Morris sort of way. But from where I’m sitting, you’re also a childish, too-smooth commitmentphobe. Besides, if I wanted a fling with someone—which I don’t—I’d know better than to fling with my best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend. Is that a good enough answer for you, or shall I go on?”

TYLERHADBEEN sucker-punched once, in the eighth grade, by a kid named Simon Sigrid. Out of nowhere, the kid had marched down the hall and socked Tyler in the face. They’d found out later that it had been on a dare from another kid and had nothing to do with Tyler in the least. It wasn’t the pain that had hurt Tyler the most, but the shock of it. The realization that one could just be carrying on in one’s life and then BAM, knuckle sloppy Joe right to the nose.

That hadn’t been any more shocking than this had been. Tyler gaped at her for a moment before he realized that he wasn’t breathing. He felt like she’d just waxed all the hair off his body in one fell swoop. He felt completely naked, and every inch of his ego was smarting.

“Damn,” he said. Because it was the only thing to say. He took a step back from her. And then another. And then turned and walked back to his seat, mechanically passing out the food and drinks. He stared down at his pretzel, which he’d forgotten to get mustard for, and just passed the whole thing over to Matty, who’d enjoy it no matter what.

She was looking for more of a commitment than he could offer her. He’d always sort of known that. He didn’t begrudge her that. But to tear him to shreds over it? As if it was a mortal character flaw and not a choice he’d made a long time ago. Tyler would not be repeating his father’s mistakes. Even if it meant that Matty was as close to a kid as he’d ever get. He might not be able to commit to anyone, but he wasn’t abandoning them either.

A few minutes later, he sensed the moment that Serafine came back and sat down behind him. This time, the hairs on the back of his neck didn’t stand up. There was no electricity or tripping heart. He felt entirely heavy, weighed down and slow, as if her words had been one lead blanket after another that she’d tossed on top of him.

When Simon Sigrid had punched Tyler in the hallway of his school, knocking him to the ground, it had been Sebastian who’d pushed Simon away, who’d helped Tyler to his feet, led him to the nurse’s office while Tyler pinched his own nose against the blood running down his face. It had been Sebastian who’d sat there for hours with Tyler while they waited for Tyler’s parents, who hadn’t come.

And it had been Sebastian who’d ridden the subway home to Tyler’s empty house so he wouldn’t be alone after school.

But right now, at that moment, Sebastian was snuggled up with the woman he loved, his first priority no longer Tyler. Tyler was a distant third after Matty and Via. And that was the way it should be, he reminded himself. Yet he couldn’t help but acknowledge that that hurt almost as much as Serafine’s words had.

That once again, Tyler was the one who nobody wanted. The one who waited in the office with a bloody nose, knowing that no one was coming to get him. If he wanted to get home, he was going to have to do it himself.

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