Page 118 of The Fallacy of True Love
“I know. You need to go.”
“You made this week so much better than I imagined.”
“Good. But you should know this isn’t goodbye.” I felt a tremor go through her hand at my words.
“It’s not going to work,” she muttered.
“Don’t count me out yet. Why don’t we try and find out?”
She stayed silent.
“We’ve slept together. Told each other secrets. Held hands.” She tried to shake my hand off at that statement, and I remembered my promise. No force. “Do you want me to let go?”
“Y—” She cut herself off. Sighed. “No. Fuck me.”
“We’ll be late for your bus, but I won’t say no.”
She laughed. “Smartass. You know what I meant.”
“We could get you another ticket.”
“We could. But I need to be home.”
Selfishly, I wished she would choose me over Juana. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I dropped it.
She’d spent her whole life looking for home. Who was I to take that away from her?
Cam
It should have been strange, holding a man’s hand. I’d never done it with anyone else before, not in any way that had meaning. Alonzo had touched me in more intimate places, and yet nothing felt more significant than how we were sitting in a car together, my fingers fully entwined with his.
Maybe it was because this was my decision, and one I didn’t make out of lust, anger, or pride.
I’d made it out of trust. And damn if that wasn’t the scariest thing of all.
The lights of the bus station came into view, and my fingers tightened around his. As much as I longed to be home, I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Manila.
To him.
Because over the course of five days, he’d reshaped the memories I had of this city. He’d shifted my insecurity over some girls’ comments into acceptance that people would always find something to criticize, my anxiety over the rundown room into appreciation that I’d found a man who respected boundaries, and my fear of my previous trauma into triumph that I had taken my power back.
Even if I never saw Alonzo again, I would forever be grateful to him for that.
“Shit,” he muttered. “There’s no parking.”
“Just drop me off,” I said, ignoring the bone-deep desire to take it as a sign that we should keep on driving. It didn’t matter what the destination was, so long as he was my companion.
He stopped near the entrance and scanned our surroundings as though an opening would appear amidst the tangle of cars. “I’ll look for a slot.”
“Alonzo. The bus leaves in ten minutes.” Shut up, my heart shouted at me.
“That’s ten minutes more that you can enjoy holding my hand.”
A laugh sputtered out of me. “Such a weirdo.”
“You like that about me. I bring humor into your life.”
“Uh huh.” I squeezed his hand and forced my fingers to let go. “This is my stop.”
