Page 200 of The Liar's Reckoning

“I guess you can’t. But you know what you can do? Dust off that fancy Harvard Law degree and run for attorney general somewhere. Hold some people accountable. Use that pretty face of yours to go on the news and talk about how other AGs can be doing the same thing in their districts. This isn’t rocket science.”

He stares at me, open-mouthed, for a few seconds before he switches back into gear. “I have three years left in the senate.”

“Yeah, I know. Whatever. Are we done talking? The shower’s calling.”

“No,” he says, holding my arm against the mattress. “Is that what you wanted me to do originally? That night after…”

I know which night he’s talking about. Of course I do. The night he gave me a sliver of hope and then yanked it out from under me a few weeks later. “It was an option,” I say.

“I didn’t see it, Silas. It felt impossible.”

“How does it feel now?”

Graham shakes his head but keeps his eyes on mine. “Massive. Less impossible. You know rejection is like—a phobia I have.”

Where’d that come from?I frown at him. “What rejection?”

“The idea of losing everyone—everything at the same time because of who I am—who I love—” He swallows so hard, I hear it. “It didn’t feel like a choice. I thought maybe it would blow over and we could be together again, but when the video came out…it felt like the door to you closed forever.”

Then I must not have been very convincing that night. Was there something more I could have done? Could I do it now? Would it matter? “Now that you know the door’s not locked, do you see your choices more clearly, or are you just trying to fuck me again?”

“Little of both.”

I shake my head. “Well, you see how good I am at rejecting you.”

“Your gameisslipping a little.”

“That’s what happens when you lose everything.” Jesus, that sounded bleak. I’m not sure I want him to know how bad off I actually am. This was supposed to be a vacation.

“Can I ask you something?” he says.

“Sure.”

“Would you take me back? Like, actually? If I came out on the senate floor and tanked the bill and told my dad I want to live my truth or whatever—would you have me?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper because that’s the bleakest truth. As much as I love him, as much as I’m desperate to trust him, and all those grand gestures sound like a great start—I don’t know how much damage between two people is too much. If I’ll ever believe he’s all in with me when it was so easy for him to cut me out of his life.

When I’ve watched how seamlessly he lies.

I can understand all of it, even empathize, but how many times do I need to be burned before I learn to stop touching fire?

“That’swhat I’m afraid of,” he says.

“You still love me?” I ask, leaning my head against his.

“Yeah.”

“What would you do if you were me?”

He sighs heavily. “I think you’re being pretty smart—given who you’re dealing with.”

“Well, begging doesn’t work on you, so…”

“Silas…”

“Sorry,” I say.

“Don’t be sorry. I appreciate the conversation.”

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