Page 19 of A Certain Step
“And what if you don’t break up? What if it lasts? What if he’s the one? Jesus, Willa, look at the love stories in your family alone. How amIthe hopeless romantic who gives every dick a chance even when they keep screwing me over? Meanwhile, you have concrete proof of all the ways that love lasts and endures. My sister just divorced her childhood best friend, for crying out loud, and I still think love is a very real thing that can last.”
Willa threw her hands up in the air. “Exactly!Amina is proof of whyyou don’t get with your best friend, let alone your childhood best friend.”
“The problem here isn’t that Amina and Keith were friends; it’s that Keith has always been a womanizer. Amina thought she could change him, and he wanted to change but realized sticking his dick into one woman for the rest of his life was too challenging. They aren’t a bloody rule here. Plus, Amina is, quite frankly, doing all right with the chap from her office. There might be something there that lasts.”
Willa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Still, she and Keith are no longer as close, and they used to be inseparable.”
“That’s just life, babe. You can’t live in fear of what’ll happen.”
“I’m not living in fear. I’m being cautious.”
“Cautious could be stopping you from experiencing something extraordinary.”
“Cautious is what you have to be when you’re thirty-three, and you’d eventually like a family someday.”
Sahar released an empathetic sigh. “I get it. I do, but sometimes, all of that—kids, a family, happy endings, require taking a risk. Ethan isn’t Jesse, he isn’t Robert, and he sure as hell isn’t Alden.”
“How did we go from my headspace feeling fuzzy and these emotions will eventually go away to an entire deconstruction of my love life? I’m too drunk for this.”
“You would be reacting the same way even if you were sober because these feelings aren’t going to go away overnight, and you’re doing a lot of work to deny yourself a chance at happiness,” Sahar noted, reaching up to the cupboard, she took out a bag of sour belts and ripped the seal open.
She inched the bag close to Willa, who shook her head in a wordless,I’m goodgesture. Sahar pulled out a green one and stuck it in her mouth. “I’m guessing we’re going to forget this conversation happened in the morning until you’re ready to admit that your feelings aren’t just a batch of nerves?” she asked.
Willa nodded and reached over to take the bag of white cheddar Cheez-its sitting on the counter. “Yup. Good talk.”
She beelined toward her room, fully aware that Sahar would be shaking her head. She wanted—no, needed—a quick body shower, but God, the effort—the effort. She picked up her phone again and stared at Ethan’s last message. A simple text would be harmless.
Contrary to everything Sahar believed, none of these emotions would last. They’d go away. They had to.
WILLA
How’s your head?
ETHAN
Still hurts but no longer has me in a death grip. How was tonight?
WILLA
Good to hear. It was fine. Nothing special.
ETHAN
Did you get home safe?
WILLA
Yup, about to crash.
ETHAN
Okay, good. Sleep well.
WILLA
Goodnight!
She released a tortured groan, ate the remaining Cheez-Its, and forced herself to shower before bed.
