Page 97 of The Odds of Happily Ever After
Fair enough. “I’m sorry for not warning you about the class. And for taking so long to reply.”
“Technically, you didn’t reply,” she said, her tone even. Reasonable. “So you knew I would be there?”
“I didn’t know that when I agreed to sub for Max, but I put two and two together when I saw the name of the class,” I admitted since I couldn’t lie to Luna.
Silence echoed in the space between my explanation and her response. “You know what sucks?” she finally said. “I want to ask why didn’t you tell me, but at the same time, I feel like I have no right to expect anything from you. You have no obligation to tell me about your schedule or thought process or whatever.” She drew in a quick breath. “I guess I just thought we were friends.”
“We are.” The skin at my nape pulled tight, and my reassurance fell flat. That label—friends—felt too small for theshape our relationship had grown to in the past months. Did friends resent the possibility that the other person was dating someone else?
“But only outside school, right? At school, I’m just any other student.”
You were never just any student, my mind shouted. But my mouth said, “Wearefriends, but there are boundaries we need to maintain around campus. You know that.” My voice came out sharper because I said it for my benefit as well as hers. “Look, I should have told you I’d be in your class. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but I ended up making things worse. That was my mistake, and I’m sorry for that.”
After a long pause, she responded. “Alright.”
I frowned. “Alright?”
“I appreciate the apology. I just hate that you’re treating me like I’m a dirty secret when there’s nothing dirty going on. It’s not like we’re hooking up or anything remotely close to it.”
Trying to ignore the visuals that flooded my brain, I spoke in what I hoped was a reasonable tone. “My position in the university isn’t secure, Luna. If you factor in that I’m still completing my doctorate, there’s a lot at stake.” Especially given how Nora had validated my hunch that my output thus far wasn’t on par with her expectation. It amped up my frustration, triggering an outpour of words. “Even if nothing inappropriate is happening, there’s no controlling what other people might think.”
“I understand that your job security is important to you. But thank you for explaining it further. At least I know where I stand.”
“Luna—”
“You have your boundaries, and I respect that. Now I need to set my own so I won’t keep getting hurt. Because every time Ithink we’re going somewhere, you slam the brakes and take a U-turn without the least bit of warning. And that’s unfair.”
“Luna.” This time, she waited a beat, giving me a chance to defend myself. Yet nothing came out of my mouth. The truth in her words sank deep in my stomach, swirling in the acid of my guilt and regret. My throat dried up, and I felt my opportunity to repair the situation slipping from my grasp.
Her sigh sounded like defeat. “Don’t worry, Gabe. I’m not as fragile as you might think I am. I can deal with rejection,” she said. “Anyway, I need to go. I have homework.”
“I’m sorry,” was all I could say, and I hated myself for it.
“So am I. Good night.”
I sat there staring sightlessly at my phone long after she hung up. The finality in her tone rang in my ears, and it seemed to echo every goodbye I’d gotten in my lifetime. It felt painful and wrong, and for once, I couldn’t take an ending for what it was. I couldn’t lose Luna—not when there was so much I needed to say to her.
So I texted her.
I waited all night, but I didn’t receive a reply. Then again, could I blame her?
chapter thirty-one
luna
Gabe
I’m sorry. I made a mistake. Can we talk tomorrow?
Luna.
“Oh my God!”
Chloe’s outburst interrupted the thousandth replay of my last conversation with Gabe. I looked up from my sandwich and found her scowling at me. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Can you just spill whatever it is that’s bothering you so you can quit it with all the sighing?”
“I’m not—” A glance at Kriz had me clamping my lips together.
