Page 92 of The Season
“At the end of the day, when you’ve broken yourself down to mold yourself into the person you think they want, they aren’t going to thank you for it.” At least, my parents never did. Not really. I don’t think they even realize what I gave up for them. For our family. “They’ll just keep taking and taking and taking. Even if they’re the best people in the world.”
I swallow, and wrap my arms tighter around Lily’s strong frame, press my lips to her shoulder, to the slightly damp fabric of her T-shirt, and take a deep breath.
“So, yah. It matters to me what you want. Of course it fucking matters to me what you want. I lo…”
My throat tightens up, the almost nauseating realization rushing forth along with the unspoken words.
I love you.
Was I just about to tell her that? When I’ve known her all of three weeks? When I’m about ninety-percent sure I’ve just concocted an imaginary polyamorous relationship in my head. When she probably doesn’t think of me as anything but a friend.
“You matter to me,” I say instead, because friends say that, right? That’s normal?
Strong arms wrap around my shoulders, her face pressing against the side of my own, her body pressed flush to mine. This close, I can feel her body shudder with emotion, can feel the whimper that catches in her throat.
“You matter to me too,” she says.
Those words have me melting beneath her, warmth and pain rendering a Lily-shaped mark in me. Branding me. I hug her back, breathing her in.
“Good,” I say, dragging the words out, like I’m pulling out my heart for her with each syllable. And maybe I am. “Then please—Lily, please, for me—whatever you do, whatever you choose, do it for you?”
There’s a long silence, and I’m not sure if the dampness against my neck is from her hair or if she’s crying. Either way, her body is tense against mine, like she’s holding her breath.
“Yah.” The word brushes against my skin, right below my ear. “Okay.” The tension bleeds from her, and suddenly she’s all softness in my arms. “I will.”
I let out a breath, and try to tamp down the irrational hope that rushes forth at her words.
She might not want me. She might not want the world I’ve imagined for us at all. Maybe she only wants this season, and then she’ll leave us all behind. Leave me behind.
But what if she doesn’t?
Chapter29
Lily
Seth: I’m at the liquor store. What do you want me to pick up?
Eddie: Anything but Utah beer.
Seth:I mean. Obviously. (smiling emoji) But what do you think Tessa will like?
Tom:What? Why do we care what Tessa likes?
Eddie:…
Liam:…
Antoine:I think you’ll find its customary in most cultures to bring a gift for the host of the party.
Tom:What party?
Tom:Guys?
Tom:Is there a party? How did I not know about this?
Tom: I’m on my way home from work now. Just stopping past the liquor store.
Tom:The good one. Not the crappy one that Seth is probably at.
