Page 98 of A Flighty Fake Boyfriend
“We know.” Dan and Cam exchanged glances while I picked at my food. “Ken’s my business partner. He’s got a real estate license. He could probably find you a place here.”
“I wish I could be two people.” I bit into a chip. “One for work, another for home and dating and maybe someday, a family. But time isn’t in infinite supply, and I believe the work I do with StolenLives is important enough to make certain sacrifices.”
“That’s bullshit,” Dan said angrily. “Luis made you believe you had to sacrifice one for the other, but you could make it work. You could find balance if you wanted to.”
“I can’t see how.” The waiter arrived with my drinks. “This hurts more than losing Luis. I feel like I’ve lost part of myself.”
“Aw, bro.” Cam patted my back. “St. Nacho’s has a weird way of making things work out when you least expect it.”
I snorted. “Everyone talks like this is some magical Christmas movie locale.”
“It’s not magic”—Cam took a sip of his beer—“it's fate.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The next morning, I gave up on texting and decided to try emails. Even if he didn’t necessarily want them, even if he didn’t read them, I found it sort of therapeutic to write them.
* * *
Epic,
I know we said goodbye, but that was supposed to be for temporary. I wish you’d been more honest with me about things. There are goodbyes and goodbyes. I’d have liked the opportunity to say the right one, which is:
I’m so glad we met. I’m so glad I got to know you. I had a wonderful time with you in Santa Barbara, despite my misgivings about attending Luis’s wedding.
You’re an amazing person, and I can’t wait to see all the important things you’re going to do. I wish I could have done more to help the situation with your parents.
I hope you make your dreams come true. Fight for yourself—for what you want to do. If that doesn’t exist already, then get out there and invent it. I believe in you.
Best,
Ryan
* * *
I hit Send,packed up, and left St. Nacho’s at noon. The drive north on the cloudy coast gave me plenty of opportunity to think. I didn’t stop for many breaks, but when I did, I checked my email for any sign Epic had written me back. By the time I got to Santa Cruz, he’d sent something. I read it eagerly.
* * *
Ryan,
I wasn’t going to answer this. I went back and forth because we did say a kind of goodbye, which was:
I’m glad we met too. I wanted more. You didn’t. The end.
That’s fine, honestly. As you pointed out, I’m very young still, and things can’t possibly be as meaningful to me as they are to someone with as much worldly experience as you have.
While I’m sure you already know this, you should probably take your own fucking advice.
Best,
Epic
* * *
Stung badly,I replied right away.
* * *
