Page 83 of The Problem with Perfect

Bishop’s silent on the other end of the line, so I continue.

“Maybe I sound ridiculous, and maybe you’re just waiting to laugh your ass off, but I’m crazy about your sister. I’ve never felt anything like this before. What if I think I can make her happy? What if I can love her best?”

I hear him sigh, and I brace for the worst.

“If what you’re saying is true, I’m wondering why you’re tellingmeand not her.”

My eyebrows furrow. “What?”

“Go tellheryou’re crazy about her, not me. I’m her twin brother, sure, and I love her like she’s part of me because she basically is, but her finding someone who makes her happy has nothing to do with me. It only has to do with her and what she wants.”

“Boyd feels differently than you do,” I tell him, just wanting to put that out there to see what he has to say about it.

“So?”

I chuckle. “What do you mean, so?”

“I mean, so what? Boyd’s opinion is no different than mine. You and Bellamy are the only ones who can decide if the way you feel about each other is worth all the energy and effort a relationship requires. If my brother has a tough time with it, that’shisproblem, not yours.”

I’m surprised by his answer, but also not. It wasn’t that long ago when I had a similar talk with Jackson aboutmysister. I guess I just assumed I needed to let go of what I thought was best in order for Abby to be happy.

Maybe Boyd will do the same.

“I guess it would be stupid, then, for me to ask for your blessing?”

Bishop laughs. “Myblessing? Come to me for that when you want to marry her, okay? Anything before that, make your own choices.”

I shake my head, a smile on my face. “This conversation did not go the way I thought it would.”

“Well, stop assuming you know how everything is going to work out,” he says, his advice far beyond his years. “Maybe if you did that, you wouldn’t feel theneedto have this conversation with me.”

“Alright well, thanks for the talk.”

“Yeah, yeah. Send me a case of your summer IPA. It’s my favorite and I won’t get to have it again until I come home.”

I laugh. “Consider it done. Later, Bishop.”

“Peace.”

He hangs up, and I stand for a minute in the middle of my living room just staring blankly in the direction of the windows looking out into the trees behind the house. I can’t help but think, again, how differently that chat went than I assumed it would. I thought Bishop would rake me over the coals for going after his sister, not encourage me to keep going.

Eventually, I climb into bed and stare at the ceiling, replaying our talk. The thing that stood out to me the most was his comment that only Bellamy and I can decide if what we have is worth it. Really, that’s the ultimate truth.

It isn’t about Bishop. Or Boyd. Or even Connor.

It’s about us.

It’s about whether or not we think the connection we have is worth fighting for. It’s basically exactly what Bellamy said to me, and I’m a little embarrassed that I needed it mansplained to me before I really saw the truth in it.

And the truth is that Bellamy has already declared she’s ready to go to war. All that’s left is for me to get on board, for me to decide how I feel about her is what I want, everything else be damned. It’s bullshit for me to blame my reluctance on Boyd, as if his opinion carries more weight than mine.

It doesn’t.

I can’t help but think about what Stan said that morning a few weeks ago at The Pines, when we were talking about Peggy and how she ended up with Fred because he was the one who was willing to risk it all to go after the woman he loved, friends be damned, her brother be damned. Maybe our stories really do have more similarities than I assumed at first.

Truthfully, if I want to be with Bellamy, if I think what we have is something true and deep and real, there shouldn’t be any question in my mind about whether or not it’s worth it to put everything on the line. It’s just hard not to allow myself to be firmly rooted in that same familiar fear, the fear that I’m finally going to take something I want, something I love, and I’ll end up losing it in the end.

chaptertwenty-three

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