“Let me try again,” Felix said with forced calm. “Enjoying MnM with you as a hobby isn’t the same as making it my entire job. I wanted to do what I could for the library—for a lot of reasons. Now that the program is launched, I’m taking a step back from MnM itself and focusing on game night more programmatically. I hope we can continue to play MnM together, Jo, at conventions and such. I like us as Grax and Veena, and I want to support you in something that you love so much.”
He almost had her. She knew it wasn’t fair to expect Felix to center his whole life, or even his whole job, around a silly roleplaying game. He still wanted to play with her, and isn’t that all she really wanted?
But then he’d said those last few words. Words that rang in her ears, so similar to ones from years ago.
Sure, baby, I’ll play a game with you. You know I’ll always support you in the things you love.
And then, mere weeks later—I don’t get it, and I never will. Have fun with your friends, just leave me the hell out of it.
How long would it take for Felix to follow the same path Jeremy did? If she was lucky, maybe she’d get the rest of the summer. But then MnM night would end, and Felix would be relieved, like he was relieved about being off the hook for GMing.
“Jo?” Felix took a tentative step toward her, concern etched in every line on his face.
She stepped away, maintaining the distance between them. In the back of her mind, she registered the hurt in Felix’s dark, warm eyes. She shut it out. “You’ll support me? I’ve heard that line before, Felix.”
Something in him seemed to snap at her icy tone. His calm vanished. Sorrow and concern transformed before her eyes into anger. Not directed at her, but anger all the same.
“From who, Jo?” he demanded, flinging his arms out wide. “Who fed you that line? Some douchebag who got off on making you roleplay for him? On making you be someone you’re not?” His hands slammed against his chest. “I’m not that guy, Jo. I’m not him!”
His words cut deep, and her hackles went up. “You didn’t know Jeremy. He wasn’t like that at the beginning. He was just as understanding and supportive as you. He—” Her voice was cut off by a new wave of tears. “He loved me too, Felix.”
“Fuck,” he spat. He shoved the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Jo, I’ve been trying not to bring him up, but we have to talk about this. I can’t keep doing this.” Felix collapsed onto the couch, forearms braced on his thighs. “Will you sit with me, cariño? Please?”
He wanted to talk. Jo could do that. She could talk. Talking meant getting things out in the open, clearing the air, setting boundaries. All those necessary, healthy things Aida always encouraged. Jo dried her cheeks and sat next to Felix.
He sighed, dropping his head into his hands and clutching his hair. “How long were you and Jeremy together?”
“Almost ten years.”
He swore again, then raised his head and regarded her with red-rimmed eyes. She expected to see pity there. Pity she could handle; she’d gotten it before. Instead, she saw only tenderness and love. Softly, he said, “I think he fucked up your expectations of what a relationship should be.”
A searing spike of rage lit up her entire body. “Do you think I don’t know that?”
“No, of c—”
“I know he fucked me up. I know he did. But I don’t know any other way to be in a relationship.” Jo pushed herself off the couch and paced, fury and indignation fueling a need to move. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if she could shield herself from the past, from the too-honest way Felix was looking at her, from the storm of emotions whirling through her like a goddamn tornado. “Before Jeremy, I didn’t really date. He’s all I ever had until I met you. So I’m sorry I’m like this, okay? This is all I know how to be. You deserve better, Felix. I’m trying to be better for you, but it’s so hard. It’s so fuck—”
Her throat closed around her words. The trickle of her tears became a torrent, so insistent it dropped her to her knees. Felix dove for her, not quite catching her before she collapsed. Loud, ugly sobs racked her body as she curled in on herself, throwing her glasses down so she could cover her face with her hands. He dragged her into his lap, stroking her hair and whispering her name as she cried and cried and cried. She cried until her temples pounded and her nose was clogged with snot. Until Felix was crying too.
When her tears finally subsided, he grasped her hand in both of his and kissed it. He touched the back of it to his cheek, scratchy stubble and salty tears running across her skin.
“You made yourself small for him, Jo,” he said. “I don’t know the half of what he put you through, but I know that much. I don’t need you to be ‘better.’ I just want you to be you, the real you, not a shadow of yourself.” He sniffed and cradled her hand against his chest. Jo could feel his heart racing. “If… if it’s too hard for you to be yourself around me, maybe you shouldn’t be around me.”
She jolted off his lap, kneeling in front of him and pressing her palm into his chest. Her heart was racing faster than his now, cracking down the middle, even as her mind refused to accept the implication of his words. Her eyes darted over his face, trying to read his expression. He just looked sad.
“Felix, what are you saying?”
“Cariño mío, I love you so much.” Tears lined his eyes, matting his long, beautiful eyelashes. “But I haven’t forgotten what you told me during the tornado. Coming to Ashville was your chance to learn who you are on your own. I’ve fucked that up for you, and maybe I moved us along too fast. If I’m not good for you because you’re struggling to fit into some kind of girlfriend box you think you need to fit into for me, I—” He swallowed and blinked back tears. “I don’t know if we should be together.”
Jo dug her fingers into his shirt to pull him toward her. She cupped his cheek and touched their foreheads together. “That’s all very noble of you, gorgeous, but you don’t get to decide what’s good for me and what’s not.”
“I know I don’t.” He shifted, planting his feet on either side of her, knees bent upward to cage her in, keep her close. His trembling hands splayed on her shoulders. “I misspoke. This is a decision we need to make together.”
“I know my decision,” Jo said without a second thought.
Felix shook his head, his forehead rolling against hers. “Jo, please. I’m asking you to think about this. Really think about it. Don’t answer now, but… do you honestly believe you can be yourself around me and that I’ll love you no matter what?”
Jo pressed her lips together to keep from blurting out the yes on the tip of her tongue.
Are you sure about that, Jo? whispered the voice slithering through her mind—the voice that was her. A small, mean part of her that she could never seem to silence. Jo’s blood ran cold as doubt followed in its wake.
“I need to be honest with you,” Felix continued. His fingers tightened on her shoulders. “Sometimes I feel like you expect the worst of me. Sometimes you can’t even look at me. And then when you do, I see this trepidation in your eyes. Like I’m the enemy, like you’re waiting for me to be cruel to you, and it hurts.” His voice broke. “It hurts to keep reminding you that you don’t have to apologize for being you. I can’t second-guess everything I say and constantly reassure you that I’m not trying to hurt you. I never, ever want to hurt you, and I don’t know if you truly believe that, deep down.”
Jo was crying again. She pulled away from Felix so she could look him in the eye. She’d never seen him so miserable. Her cracked heart splintered and shattered into pieces. This was all her fault, and she was desperate to make it better. To shower him with kisses and shout words of love from the rooftops. To hold him and dry his tears and echo back the wonderful things he always said to her.
Except none of that would actually make it better. He had told her what he needed for that: he needed her to think about it. To figure out if there was a way forward without them repeatedly hurting one another. To be certain.
Okay, then. That’s what she would do. For Felix. For herself. For them.
“I’m sorry, gorgeous,” she said simply. “I didn’t know I made you feel like that.”
He leaned into her hand on his cheek, and she scrubbed at his stubble with her thumb. “That’s why I’m telling you. I know you don’t want to hurt me either.”
“I don’t, I promise.” Jo kissed his forehead. “This is why you want us each to decide, isn’t it? Because I’m not the only one who’s struggling. We’re both hurting each other, and maybe hurting ourselves.”
“Yeah. Will you think about it?” Felix’s teary eyes landed on hers, more serious than she’d ever seen him.
In the silence that followed his question, the full weight of what they were about to do seemed settle over both of them, threatening to crush them. Jo pushed through it, forcing out a single word.
